Orange whores

Holidays start tomorrow and I'm already bored. So I just took one of those silly Facebook quizzes. Or perhaps they're not always silly. This was called... what race should you date. I instantly knew the answer but took the quiz anyway. Seems I should date within my race, it's Caucasians for me. It was just a confirmation, but why did I think so, no, why was I so sure so? I like to think I have no qualms about race, gender or whatever. But do I really? Of course I am not about to say that people who do not belong to my race are supposed to be ill-treated, beat, spat at or anything of the sort. What with the klandestini being a hot issue, I still remain one of those who think we should take them in and care for them as if they were our own. Come on, leaving everything behind, risking your life for a slim chance of a better one... that takes guts, it also shows that they have been in bad shape. I will not go into whether the EU should help or not. I guess it would help if it helps. But every time I pass by the Marsa Open Centre I get sad, too sad. There are black people all over the place and they really don't look rich at all. Not one bit. They don't have airconditioning, they have portable toilets... poor things. Yes I know that some of them have an attitude problem but then plenty of Maltese people have an attitude problem and they're living off benefits which come out of my taxes too. So we should have a heart. But yet in a twist of something which I have yet to figure out, I will not mix with someone outside of my race. Meaning, I will never look to another race for a lifelong partner. I want a partner who is within my own race. It's bad enough, people of the same race making babies and then shuttling off. It could be worse with a mixed race couple. And I can never ever see myself lying down with a yellow, red, blue, orange, pink or black man. They say after black you don't look back don't they? Well, I for one, don't even want to know. My dirty mind draws a picture of some black rocket coming to land inside you. And in my mind, that's not fun. I don't know what happens with yellow men. Or pink men for that matter. Purple men are ok because they're gay and you're not lying down with them, or perhaps you are but you're just going to sleep the night away. But the people I am having an aversion to quite lately stem from South America. Not the men, this time, but the girls. And no I don't sleep with girls, never have, not even in my teens just to gossip and giggle the night away. But these girls have orange skin and it isn't orange skin as in cellulite. I'd have to shut my mouth if it were. No, these girls are just taking our men away. They look very different to us, and they look very dirty too. Not as in dirty minded, they could do what they like there, but dirty as in needing an ammonia scrub. Greasy looking skin, hair plastered over their strange looking scalp, please keep them away from me. They also need Visas which they get probably by batting their greasy eyelashes at whoever. In a matter of months they're also working here, but the work they do doesn't need a permit. They work from home, strip in front of a webcam and see the cash coming in. Some job. And yes I am so less tolerant to these girls because they have a big attitude problem. They think Malta should bow to them. But it's not going to. At least not till I am alive. They do not tolerate me because I'm different, and I am living in my own country. They're shameless, dirty, wicked whores. And while I like whores, I don't like them in orange. And I'm not bowing to any one of them. That'll be the day. No I just don't like them one bit. Let them go back to their jungle.