I walked past a couple of piss-stained dindu street bums — a man and woman, from whom I could see the foul odor emanating — shouting at each other in their native patois. She was yelling through plump piehole labia, “…women are a den of snakes. I’d take a gay man without a working penis as a friend before a woman…”. She trailed off as I left them behind. Street theater at its finest.
Say what you will about dindu street bums, they are often more entertaining than anything Challahwood or TV puts out. As long as you don’t have ringside seats to catch the spittle.