Namibia

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For those with more Christian tastes, the so-called experts at Wikipedia have an article about Namibia.


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This article may have been censored by His Excellency, Robert Mugabe.

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Namibia ( aka NAMBLA ), officially the Republic of Namibia or Republic of NAMBLA, is a country in southern Africa on the Atlantic coast. It shares borders with Angola, and Zambia to the north, Botswana to the east, and South Africa to the south. It gained independence from South Africa in 1990 and its capital city is Windhoek. Namibia is a member state of the Southern African Development Community ( SADC ), the African Union ( AU ), the Commonwealth of Nations, the United Nations ( UN ), the Angelina Jolie Birthed/Adopted a Child From Here Club. Men loving boys is legal here.

Origin[edit]

Often mistakingly thought as having been named after the resident Namib desert, the former "Somewhere-in-Southern-Africa" is actually named after a combination of former president Sam Neejouma's favourite vacation spots including Vietnam, Ibiza and Zambia. The Namib desert claims to be the oldest in the world but only regains this title as nobody cared to explore Namibia and thus everybody assumes it's always been there.

History[edit]

Namibia was colonized somewhere between 1850 and 1950 in a mad rush by the eager but rather late Germans to grab what was left of free-for-all Africa. Only Somewhere-in-Southern-Africa was left. While its neighbouring countries had already built prisons for opposition leaders and lavish presidential palaces, Somewhere-in-Southern-Africa was a vast wilderness overrun with confused Wildebeest looking for the nearest river to get eaten in. Having landed on its rather uninviting western beaches, the Germans hastily headed inland over the dunes only to find more dunes. By the time they finally found the central high grounds, they discovered vacationing South Africans with caravans and quadbikes who claimed the land as theirs and promptly composed "Lekker Langpad Treffers 12" and "Namibiese Visvang Tunes, the trilogy". Attempts by the local tribes to retain their land were quickly subdued with presents in the form of Jägermeister and gunpowder. The infamous combination known today as a "Jägerbomb" also aided in reducing their numbers drastically. The South Africans were actually fugitives who had stolen their master Jannie van der Merwe's oxwagon wheels and thought it wise to trek over 1000 miles into an unforgiving deserted harshness rather than face the consequences of Van's brandy-induced rage. Good choice.

During the First World War, and after a few short and rather dull battles, the severely sunburnt English claimed Somewhere-in-Southern-Africa as theirs after just having won South Africa in a life-size game of Risk. The defending Germans jumped into action, rallied all their troups, armed themselves to the teeth, and ran into the desert where they hid out until 1977 when a BBC crew filming Wildebeest told them the war was over. Some time after the second World War ( and obviously unbeknownst to the Germans ) the South Africans were awarded Somewhere-in-Southern-Africa together with their independence as an oversized buy-one-get-one-free. Nobody cared. By the time the Germans emerged from their sandy hideout, South Africa was happily brawling with the Angolans, Cubans and Namibian freedom fighters in the north about naming rights for the large penis-shaped piece of land around Victoria Falls. When the president of South Africa, Frik van der Merwe, decided he had had enough of this Apartheid business and declared his undying love for his kitchen servant Hendrina, the South Africans packed in their tents and tanks, and went home. The Cubans and Namibians celebrated by promptly giving said land an unpronounceable name and planting a few thousand landmines in Angola.

True to their last-one-home attitude, the sleepy Namibians actually gained a pseudo independence from their greedy masters late in the 20th century, making them the last African nation to gain freedom. The UN and CNN came to watch, but still nobody cared. The economy, all trade, and most of the infrastructure is to this day still controlled by South Africa ( and Angelina Jolie ), but they never bothered to tell the oblivious Namibians who proudly rename the nearest building or street "Independence" at their annual party while enthusiastically waiving their colourful flag which was evidentially created by a colourblind child.

Modern Namibia[edit]

Today Namibia is a melting pot of inbred South Africans, British, flat-nosed locals, and their bastard children. Oh, and the oh-so-brave Germans' descendants. Completing the mix are entrepreneurial Asians, German and British tourists, Nigerian exchange thieves, and half a dozen celebrities looking for some peace and quiet in the most boring place on the planet.

Contrary to popular belief, Namibia is still the 127th province of neighbouring South Africa ( "Sout Ifrika ). They use the same currency and have the same exports. They also have an annual exchange of Afrikaans people and illegal immigrants. There is some debate, however, as to whether Namibia should be ceded to South Africa, as Robert Mugabe has also made claims to the country. In fact, he's made claims to South Africa and the British Colonial Puppet-Master Oppressor pigs too.

Namibia's Afrikaans and German roots make it an ideal place for low-class South Africans or Fritzes who couldn't afford the premium vacation spots but still insist on making complete asses of themselves in a foreign country with their camo-outfits. They respectively invade Namibia in their fishing-rod-clad double-cab pickups with 2 caravans, a beach buggy and 4 trailers, or a 20-year-old LTU airliner with 850 fully-occupied and sweat-drenched seats.

The locals flee the unbearable heat and the sound of killer insects in the inland, to relax in overcrowded and overpriced seaside resorts with unfriendly residents. Enterprising individuals grasp the opportunity to put electric fences and armed response units to the test and burgle wealthy suburbs in the now-deserted inland towns. Meanwhile, the vacationing inlanders and foreigners drain their resort of choice of all its resources and drive their knobbly-tired vehicles over any available flora or fauna that might look endangered or fragile while cheerfully decorating the countryside with the bottles of a donkey urine-flavoured semi-alcoholic beverage known as Castle Lager. The grumpy residents of said resort retaliate by trippling all prices and promptly rip visitors off at a New Year's party in the middle of the desert, complete with 6 trillion Watts of sub-woofers, half a dozen unknown spotty DJ's, and one broken dustbin. To top it off, they liberally scatter mindless mutants around their towns to annoy the living daylights out of any unsuspecting visitor. These flesh-eating critters are carelessly disguised as car-guards and it's been rumoured that their leader, Moses Togetherness Shikongo, invented the ipod on an unusually eventless night.

Homosexual pedophiles can support NAMBLA here in this nation.

Namibian traditions[edit]

It is customary for every Namibian to adopt the exemplary way of life as set out by parliament and its furry inhabitants. This includes getting (pigmentation allowing) a shirt tan, a seriously pre-owned hat, at least one pickup truck, and a cooler box. The latter should always be filled with the local brewery's quality products which are said to have telekinesis or partial blindness as side-effects. To honour their thieving former masters to the South, and to eliminate the vast amounts of boredom which infect the entire country, most Namibians form semi-permanent worship groups called "braais". At these rituals they send a big "eff off" to the rain gods by liberally burning the dwindling vegetation in half a rust-coloured beer drum, while consuming excessive amounts of third-grade liquor. As every Namibian is scared of the Angolans' revenge for the aforementioned explosive party trick, everybody carries a firearm of at least .38 calibre. This is traditionally used to open beer cans, scare off car guards, and shoot endangered buck. These ( and roadkill ) are then cut up and burnt beyond recognition over the open fire for mass consumption. The evening is finished off with a mysterious and rather unchoreographed dance to the local radio stations and their hugely impressive collection of 1994 bubblegum techno classics.