Posts Tagged ‘afrikaans


Afrikaans Porn – TRANSLATED!

Last week Monday, I shocked and enthralled the Afrikaans world with my epic short story entiteld: Afrikaans Porn. Seconds after posting it, a whole flood of people retweeted the piece, both of them commenting on how I’d reached a whole other level of blogging excellence by catering specifically for the Afrikaans market in such a thoughtful way.



What was even more amazing than the piece itself was the Google Chrome translation of it, which my main man Civilian sent through to me on the weekend.

Prepare yourself for the awesomeness of this post. Actually no, fuck that. Nothing can prepare you for the awesomeness I’m about to blow your mind away with.

Good Luck.



It was a cold Monday evening, and Charles Bester was in his favorite bar Charnelle, enjoying a bitjie brannewyn and coke while Kurt Darren on the jukebox a nice song played.

"You know what the fucking problem with Marikie is?" Charles said as he was a long drink from his brannewyn took, "she is not at all adventurous."

"Not adventurous not?" Said Charnelle asked, her eyes darting between Charles’ face and his krotch, "which means you, Charles?"

"Well, the thing is, I Marikie and is now nearly five years of loyal and do not take me wrong I fucking love her in pieces."



"Jaaa …" said Charnelle said as her long, pink fingernails on Charles’ duk, hairy arm gestrook did.

"But it does not matter how hard I pray, she would not gatsteek try it!"

"Wow!" Said Charnelle called out, "but you’re a naughty boy for poor Marikie daaie to ask!"

Charles has blood-red geblush. "How drunk am I?" He thought. "I certainly would not Charnelle this shit about me and her sister whore.”

"Sorry Charnelle, I, I, fuck me mat…"

Charnelle has slowly licked her lips while her length fingernaels further Charles’ duk, hairy arm gestrook have.

"Charles, do not be so blerrie Shy," said Charnelle gewhisper, "we are old buddies long before my sister had married …"

"Charnelle…" Charles said, "it is cabbage than I… umm… your nice hole in the pitch…?"

"Oh, Charles! You’re so fucking romantic, for sure it is cabbage! Come, let us go to my place, we can be a bitjie KY loob and buy biltong on the way. "



                    *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *


"Fuck, but Charnelle’s place looks nice with all those candles," said Charles as he thought of her naked on couch sat, "as daaie late night television programs on E-TV."

Charles has his soft shlerm in his hand frantically gemaseer. "Come now, you fucking lazy thing," said Charles to himself gemumbel, "Charnelle would now come through the bathroom, and then you active as a pole so that I can in her poepgat jam."

As Charles said that had Charnelle the bathroom door open quickly so that it cast a harsh blow between the wall had made.

"Charnelle …" Charles said, "I’m fucking Speechless …"

Charnelle lived in Leathers stood with a red rubber ball gag in her hand.

"You look beautiful," Charles said.

"And you look like a softly bitjie ne?" She replied.

"Yes, sorry man," said Charles Embarrassed said, "I think I have a bitjie brannewyn drank too much.But if you cook me come slurp it will get nice hard. "

"Your wish is my kommand," hey sexy Charnelle already said as she got on his knee and Charles’ dick in her mouth were.

"Fuck yes," Charles said, "that’s right bitch, my banana trunk, aaaahhh."



Before he knew what was Charles gebeer iron-hard and ready to Charnelle’s Hershey highway driving.
"Come now," Charles said, "I leave my hard cook fast in your beautiful hole stretch, I must go home before I leave the evening repeat of Noot vir Noot wrong."

"Fuck, is it tonight?" Said Charnelle said, "I thought it was on Tuesday evening."

"No, it’s tonight. Now sit daaie gag in your mouth down, and give the KJ to me. I wanted to enjoy loob hole so it does not tear. "

"Yes, do as you are not guilty, he gave me so terrible hole I getear poepsak a month for a bore."

"What?!" Charles said, "you and me modeled gatsteek whole new …?"

"Yes, but do not worry, your chef is completely bigger."

"Oo, that’s ok then," Charles said as Charnelle the gag in her mouth and sat on the coffee table gebend did.

Charles has already KJ gesquirt over his privates. "It’s now or never," he thought, "I hope her Charnelle stinkgat good washing, I did not want any dinglberries my pubes have not."



Charnelle’s hole was the tightest thing Charles throughout his life felt. It took a few bands before he was completely in and then a few more good hard before he came.

"Aaarrararargrahggrhrggrghahrgagragrgahghhhhhh," Charles said.

"Mmmommommmommmommoo," said Charnelle gemumble back.

"How does it feel!" Charles shouted, "it feels good when I come into your hole pump? Ohh yes, take it!Who’s your daddy? Wies your daddy bitch! "

"Mmmmmomommmmommo," he said Charnelle.

"Ahh …" Charles said. "Okay, thank Charnelle, I’m ready." Charnelle have taken the gag off and back to Charles commented.

"Did you enjoy my hole?"

"Yes!" Charles replied happily, "jib, it was very nice feeling, I can you in the hole next week stretch?"

"For sure!" Said Charnelle replied.

"Thank goodness Charnelle. Pleasant evening. "

"And you, Charles," he said as Charles Charnelle colors dressed and out the door walked.

"Wow, I really enjoy daaie Charles," said Charnelle thought.

"I hope I am not my krotch crickets for him gave …"





Today we are South Africans

I have a love / hate relationship with this country.

It’s the little things that get to me. It’s the way taxis take to our streets with total abandon and a sense of entitlement that infuriates everyone they cut in front of and crash into.

It’s the way, after all this time, after all the fights we’ve fought, snot-nosed political troublemakers can step into the limelight and set us back twenty years every time they shake their fists in the air and bark their angry, idiotic words, inciting hatred and violence.



It’s the way a friend of a friend got robbed or stabbed or shot for his cell phone and we all heard the news and said “Thank God it wasn’t worse”.

It’s the way politicians get away with blue murder completely scott free, irrespective of what they’ve done and it’s the way we all bitch and moan about it until we are pulled over for drunk driving and get off on a R50 bribe.

It’s the way I’ve never, not once, wound my window down to give a beggar change. Their faces disappear from my mind the second they vanish in my rear view mirror. An endless parade of ghosts.

It’s the way we can’t forget, no matter how hard we try, that there was a time in this country when our fathers and their fathers before them committed atrocious acts of violence and cruelty because they allowed themselves to be governed by a system based on ignorance and fear.

It’s the way we live in eternal uncertainty, of our government, of our future and of each other.

So why stick around? If there’s nothing left to fight for, why fight at all? There’s a whole world out there full to bursting of greener grass, why not just leave?

I stay in South Africa because underneath everything, I love this country to pieces and I know that I can’t live without it.

Things get bad sometimes and sometimes it feels like we’re backsliding and like the precious balance that we’ve tried so hard to maintain is toppling, but if there’s one thing no one can deny about South Africans, it’s that we are a people who understand more than any other nation on this earth how powerful hope really is.



From the concrete skyscrapers in Jozi to the open, untouched valleys of the Eastern Cape; from the sugarcane fields of Kwa-Zulu Natal to the baking hot deserts of the Karoo and the proud oceans that wash the shores of this beautiful, haunted country, we are a people who are united by the hardships we’ve suffered and the moments of triumph we’ve shared.

And what better way to celebrate everything we’ve achieved than by inviting the world with open arms to experience what it’s like to live here, under the arching, golden African sun and the endless blue skies that stretch on above us, come summer, autumn, winter or spring.

The beauty of it all is that on some days we might be coloured people, waiting by the bus stop to commute back to Khayalitsha and on others we might be white people from the northern suburbs of Jozi, driving our Audis home after a long day in and out of meetings.

On some days we might be black children, kicking a soccer ball in the streets of Alex and on others we might be Indian women, dressed in brightly coloured saris behind tables of fragrant spices at the Oriental Plaza.

On some days we might be Chinese people and on others we might be Greek. On some days we might be Lebanese and on others we might be Afrikaans or Sotho or Zulu or Venda.

But today, we are all of us South Africans.



What a great day today is 🙂