Have you ever had a dream that, that, um, that you had, uh, that you had to, you could, you do, you wit, you wa, you could do so, you do you could, you want, you wanted them to do you so much you could do anything?
European tourists have figured out that a monetized YouTube channel with videos of themselves gasping in awe at a large soda will pay for their tickets home
I am not calling it fucking Türkiye bro I speak English not Turkish.
I know for a fact they don’t call it “United States of America” in Constantinople. I mean what are we doing here
I'm actually in awe at Indians managing to mass psychosis themselves into creating and believing in an entirely fake caste system for China. Pretending that it matters in China. Making tweets in Chinese talking about it and pretending to be Chinese people.
When I see spoiled white elites acting like retards I tend to think "atleast they built the modern world" but something about spoiled Arab, Pakistani and Indian elites just disgusts me to the core
Worthless cunts that haven't produced anything substantial in the last 300 years
@meinmokhtar patut ler dia mintak cerai, isteri nangis bukan dia nak tanya kenapa isteri dia nangis, penat ke, rindu ke,, cakap dia buat dosa apa pulak buto punya jantan
guy who supports aborting regular healthy children but not aborting down syndrome children is the climax that all of leftist history has been building up to
In America, a stranger will rename you in a single breath, and you are simply expected to come when called.
I went to eat at a busy restaurant. A young man at the front asked for my name, to mark my place in line. I gave it the weight it has carried for eight hundred years.
"Nobunaga."
He smiled, nodded, and wrote it down with great confidence. Then he read it back to me, to be sure he had honored it correctly.
"Perfect. Banana, party of one."
Banana. He had heard my name, held it a moment, and returned to me something rounder and more cheerful. To refuse the name a host gives is to refuse his welcome. I bowed. I was Banana now.
Then he handed me a small black disc, said it would "light up and buzz" when my table was ready, and turned to the next guest as though he had not just placed a living thing in my hands.
I held it in both palms, the way one holds a small sleeping beast that may wake. I found a place to stand. I waited, ready.
It woke.
It screamed. It flashed red. It leapt and shook in my hands like a captured spirit demanding release. A lesser man would have dropped it. I did not. I gripped it, steady, looked into its blinking lights, and told it, in a low voice, that its time had come. Then I carried it back to the host with both hands, the way one returns a hawk to its master.
He took it without looking and shouted across the entire room.
"BANANA! Party of one, your table's ready!"
A hundred strangers turned. I rose. I crossed that floor as Banana, spine straight, chin level, a man answering to his name. A child pointed at me. I gave the child a small bow. He had recognized me.
All through the meal they kept me. "How's it tasting, Banana?" "More water, Banana?" The check, when it came, said Banana, and thanked me for visiting. By the end the whole staff knew me. They waved as I left. "Night, Banana!"
So tell me honestly.
For eight hundred years my clan answered to one name. Tonight I answered to a fruit, calmed a screaming relic in my bare hands, and ate among people who were glad I came.
When the little disc lights up, is the table truly mine, or am I only keeping it warm for the next Banana?
Because I have already decided to return on Friday, and to ask, very humbly, for the same disc.