Julius Malema

Julius Malema... Ek sidder om te dink watse kak gaan hy nou aanjaag...

Classic Malema

You have to check out this blog! The Classic Malema

Julius Malema

It is that idiot Julius Malema's birthday today. He ain't gonna get no birthday card from me, that's for sure!

Circumcision Foreskins and Julius Malema

Circumcision Foreskins and Julius Malema. Eventually someone managed to rattle that idiot Julius Malema. I know this is old news already, but this is classic ADD. A topic will get stuck in you head and even if everybody else have moved on, you’re still there. That idiot Julius Malema have been insulting the world and his wife and getting away with it. Now he is upset because Helen Zille called him an Inkwenkwe. It is a Xhosa word for ‘boy’, but it also implies an uncircumcised boy who has not yet been through the traditional Xhosa Initiation Rites. It boils down to meaning someone with no authority whom should not be taken seriously. Now that idiot Julius Malema claims that Helen Zille is going below the belt with her comments. While we’re on the topic… I am getting mortally tired and unutterably weary of the whole circumcision discussion. Open a Men’s Health, FHM, Esquire etc and you’ll find a debate on circumcision. To the participants of this debate, I want to say: “You have a penis, for crying out loud! Stand up and be counted as a man and stop crying whether you should have an extra piece of skin or not!” One of the strangest relics that existed in the Roman Catholic Church surely must be the Holy Prepuce. The Holy Prepuce was believed to be Christ’s foreskin which was kept as a relic after he was circumcised according to Jewish Custom. At some stage hundreds of little pieces of shrivelled skin all claiming to be the Holy Prepuce existed all over Europe. This may have been one of the reasons why the Catholic Church at some point in time proclaimed the Holy Prepuce not to be a relic any longer. I am not one for poetry. I don’t get it. Maybe I am to shallow. The only form of poetry I like is limericks. Some won’t even call it poetry, as it is a type of rhyme really. Here is one of my favourites, dealing with the topic at hand: There was a man from Bombay who fashioned a cunt out of clay the heat of his prick then turned it to brick and chafed all his foreskin away. We weren’t married long when I had to go for a sinus operation. When I came to from the anaesthesia (I am told) I pulled all the IVs from my arm, making a bloody mess. I started swearing at the nurses and the moment I saw Lamb I asked her whether they circumcised me while I was under. Only when she assured me that they didn’t I calmed down, after which I told her that I was hungry and wanted food that very instant. Luckily I don’t remember any of this. So this is me on the topic of circumcision, foreskins and Julius Malema.