Every man who has ever lived has a weakness. The man who disagrees is a bold faced liar. My name is Samuel Chambers and I was born in the City of Montreal, Quebec, to a Haitian immigrant father and a white Canadian mother. I consider myself as Canadian as anyone. I got a story to share with you, ladies and gentlemen. I want to tell you about how I met my wife, Fairuza Osman-Chambers, the mother of my sons Jamal and Ali Chambers. It's definitely one for the ages, that's for damn sure.
Long before I met my future wife, had a life-changing experience, embraced Islam, completed my university studies and got married, life was very different. I was a very different person, that's for sure. Although raised in the Catholic faith, I have a thing for ladies of the Muslim persuasion. Most specifically, the women of Somalia. I am simply addicted to them, man. I simply can't help myself. I swear, as much as I love my dear Fairuza, if we weren't in Canada, I'd get me a second or third wife. They'd have to be Somali, of course. Yeah, I'm THAT thirsty for them.
After a lackluster first year at the University of Montreal, I flunked out and my parents, Louis Dieudonne and Samantha Chambers, fed up with my bullshit, sent me to the no-fun-zone in an effort to save what's left of my academic career. I am referring to the City of Ottawa, of course. The most boring place on the planet Earth. Seriously, there's absolutely nothing to do in this town. My folks shipped me there and I enrolled at Carleton University to continue my business studies. I hated Ottawa even before I ever set foot in it, but something has come along to change my mind.
I am referring of course to Fairuza Osman, a gorgeous Somali chick who studies in the police foundations program at La Cite Collegiale, a local French school. The first time I laid eyes on the thick, curvy and sinfully sexy sister in the hijab and long skirt, I knew I wanted her. The problem is that hijab-wearing Somali girls tend to be devout Muslims and supposedly not the type to respond to the advances of flirtatious brothers like myself. Or are they? The way I see it, no matter how daunting a task, it never hurts to try.
That's why I casually approached Fairuza, claimed to be interested in Islam, every Muslim's favorite suspect, and struck up a conversation. When Fairuza asked me what sparked my interest in Islam, I made up a story about having previously held negative views of Muslims but after an old Muslim dude saved my life, I decided to investigate the fate. Smiling beatifically, Fairuza looked at me, her eyes glowing, and told me that it was the Will of the Most High that I come to her. That day, I walked away with the sister's phone number...and a copy of the Koran. Am I good or what?
What can I say, ladies and gentlemen? I am a slick brother. Look, I know this might be a douchebag type of move but if you saw Fairuza's mesmerizing ass sashaying from side to side as she walked through the Rideau Center that day, you wouldn't blame me for trying to get with her. Even though Fairuza had on one of those long traditional robes that lots of Muslim women wear, I could tell that Little Miss Religious had one hell of an ass. And I wanted a piece of that action. If learning about her religion is the price I have to pay, then so be it. I wanted some of that thick Somali booty!
That's how it began, ladies and gentlemen. Fairuza and I began talking on the phone regularly, at first only discussing religion and politics, such as the fact that Prime Minister Stephen Harper, Canada's dictator, hates immigrants from non-European nations, especially Muslims. I could relate to Fairuza's frustration because my father came to Quebec as a young man from his hometown of Cap-Haitien, northern Haiti, and the immigration authorities gave him a lot of hassle before he got his Canadian citizenship. I grew up hearing my father's stories about the xenophobic attitude of Canadian immigration authorities.
The lovely Miss Fairuza was born in the City of Guriel, in the south-central Galgaduud region of Somalia. Her parents, Ahmed and Mona Osman moved to Ontario from Somalia in the fourth summer of her life. Even though Fairuza doesn't remember anything of Somalia, the land of her ancestors is dear to her heart. Fairuza is something else, ladies and gentlemen. Sometimes her lovely round face would light up when she talked to me about her dreams for the Somali community. Enraptured, I listened attentively to every word coming out of her sweet, bow-shaped lips. What can I say? The lady from Somalia has that effect on me.
Originally, my game plan was to pretend to be interested in Islam, seduce Fairuza, smash that thick Somali booty of hers and then move onto my next conquest. Little did I know that fate, and the lady in question, had other plans for yours truly. Fairuza and I became friends and began hanging out. I took her to the Saint Laurent Mall, the Silver City movie theater, Kanata Lakes and other cool hangout spots in Ottawa. The first movie we watched was Black Dynamite. I thought Fairuza would be dull, boring and submissive since that's the stereotype about conservatively attired Muslim ladies. The gal proved to be anything but!
I remember how shocked I was when, one day, as we walked out of the Shawarma King restaurant on Rideau street, Fairuza stunned the shit out of me by suggesting that we check out the adult video store nearby. What the fuck? Had lightning struck me then and there, folks, I don't think I would have been more shocked. A hijab-wearing Muslim chick from Somalia took me by the hand and walked me to the nearby porno shop. Yes, you read right!
