whenever someone mentions something remotely related to Africa, my tongue will instinctively do a click. for this habitual behavior, i have only one person to blame: Russell Peters and his goddamn stand-up performance that has been downloaded one time too many from the internet. i was first introduced to the world of Peters during my 13 month stint in Brunei. everyone who arrives in Brunei with a laptop, comes accompanied with a hard-disc drive crammed full of weird mpgs and porn downloaded via bittorrent, limewire, etc. soon enough, it became an unritten rule that newbies from Singapore had to share their downloaded goods with everyone in camp. a brand new HDD would soon turn into an overused prostitute, sometimes infected with viruses amassed from plugging its plug into all the laptop's plugs in my Bruneian workplace.

Russell Peters, i must say, was one of those viruses. why? because everyone at my workplace had watched Peter's performance at least twice and memorized most of the witty one-liners. EVERY SINGLE COLLEAGUE understood and used the 'what the fuck' hand symbol on an hourly basis. it soon became part and parcel of our 'orientation program' to introduce every newbie at work to Russell Peters. most of our communication revolved around Peters and his jokes. i mean, it's frustrating and culture-shocking when your ah beng colleague, fresh from Singapore doesn't understand punani is a substitute for his much favored word AKA chee bye.

in case you haven't watch Peters, the tongue click is one of his jokes in the performance. the Africans' have names with exclamation marks before it and that ! in the name is supposed to be a click of the tongue rather than something said. i bet nobody knew that. take one great geographic example we all in Singapore learnt during the lower secondary days: !kung bushmen. i bet every single geography teacher pronounced it as the E-KUNG bushmen. little did we know it came together with a tongue click! very quaint hor!

so you see, you can't really blame me when my tongue gets all excited and clickety-click from the past few days' events - which is basically all things Aaah-Friii-Kaaaan (click click clock). in fact, three things related to Africa (!) happened to me recently. and just like the irony of pink C-in2 underwear at my neighborhood gym toilet just after i wrote a post about gay men and underwear on Fridae, here's a triple foreplay of ironic events associated with Africa in chronological order:


1) Johannesburg
the boyfriend is now in Johannesburg, having departed early this morning. the latest sms from him went like this:

'Oh my god. There r so many Akon lookalike hiphop-sters here.. Anyways (mushy items censored at the discretion of the writer)'

both of us have something against Akon. you do realize the only bit he has in Gwen Stefani's Sweet Escape is mainly 'Weee Oooh, Yeeee Oooh' and four lines of 'I wanna get away, to our sweet escape'. 'Smack That' is an official mat anthem. And if you thought Simon Webbe's nasal voice gives you an allergic runny nose, 'Lonely' featuring Akon's even more nasal voice will present you with a botched rhinoplasty. still, the boyfriend will be in Johannesburg till Friday morning. i (mushy item) you!

2) My first ever African blog visit



as you can see from the clustrmap above, i have my very first African hit on my blog. for months, the entire continent has been devoid of hits. ever since Fridae, i've had my one and only. yeah maaahn.

3) My very first African hoax mail



the threat of the African hoax mail has been rampant for years to come. many have been cheated and duped into sending over legal fees, only to be swindled weeks later. just when i'm beginning to think that i would never receive one of them African mails, it popped into my email account after the clustrmap update. i'm thinking of calling the guy up, but i think i might just embarrass myself trying to pronounce the 'Mfana' in 'Mr. Tutu Mfana'.


once again, God is one funny chap with a weird sense of humor. anyways, i dunno any other way to end this post. so when i've got nothing to say, i always end it with a scandalizing secret: i've always wanted to have sex with an African. it's prolly smething about their accents and the fact that they have weiners the size of.... ehrm... well, it's prolly as long as !!!!!!!!!!. and watching The Last King Of Scotland seems to just reinforce that entire love for all thing Afrikan. back then we had Papa Joe's at Orchard Emerald for the meenas. now, we don't even have any place resembling a tavern for African sailors to meet up with the locals.

!

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