June 2012: What? Why? How?

June 2012 would be over in a few hours but there are questions it failed to answer and hopefully May 2012 would do justice to them.


• Where is the $600,000 bribe/donation Femi Otedola gave Farouk Lawan?


• What is the fate of Air Nigeria and her workers now that Jimoh Ibrahim had been involved in pension scam?


• Why the hell did GEJ agree to a media chat just to offend his critics and increase their number?


• How far with @omojuwa ipad?


This isn't a question, Say a Prayer for Syria.

I'm Sorry...To Whom It May Concern

I feel I owe someone an apology but the truth was I had no idea who. I do have a feeling it would be a female...it had to be a female. They were the ones I had low tolerance towards.

It could be my ex, the Last Nigeria Virgin, the last time she saw me I received a cold shoulder. It was in the presence of her brother and I had to just walk away. That was a sign I didn't end it well.
It could also be another ex I described in Bitch You Are Selfish. Thinking about it, I used the post to break-up. I could have done it in a more...professional way. Then again, I was pissed off.
There were many people [especially females] my attitude might have unconsciously offended. Thing is...ok I'm not going to make an excuse for my actions. Then again, my reaction was a direct result of their action.

I have a feeling it might be one chic I knew through Facebook since 2010 that I owe the apology. She was a poet, and a good one at that. We got close to the point that I knew of her suicidal tendencies, also her past attempts that ended with her hospitalised. We also exchanged PIN on Blackberry. Our 'friendship' was weird. I hadn't seen her, saw her pictures but no physical meeting. From 2010 to 2012 she had deleted me on Blackberry over 3 times and one time blocked me on Facebook. Her excuse, I was getting too close. She would delete me just to add another day BUT she made it clear she didn't want to see me. She got upset over a lot of things I update that were not directed to her. I remember one time I uploaded the picture of the world shortest man. I wrote as the status "My dick is bigger than this man". She found it offensive and deleted me. There was also another time I called a close friend fat...she was the one that got upset-delete.

I tracked her down in 2012 and saw her for the first time when she least expected. She was surprised but told me it was the wrong time to meet. We fixed a date for the next day but I didn't make it and still didn't call to let her know. She must have felt I was disappointed when her body size [because she was on the fat side]. She deleted me from her Blackberry Messenger once more without saying anything. To be honest, I haven't bothered to call.

I could go on and on about who I owe an apology but that would only make it more confusing for me. So I say, I'm Sorry...To Whom It May Concern.

[Wet] Dream

I had a dream. It was one of a kind and quite interesting. Now the dream. A chic came over to my place. It was someone I knew, actually, she was over at my place days earlier and we were involved in 'rough play' but there was no sex involved because she was having her period. It was the period ish that actually killed my morale...it was a like a player who perform perfectly during training and told the coach he won't be available for the match the following day. My point is this, why come when you can't play.

Anyway, in the dream we were about to play a match.

It was at Stamford Bridge, as usual, the field and lighting was on point. As we made out, you know, kissing and caressing, my Dick did not stand. I was aroused and wanted to f*ck her brains out but my Dick was not getting the message. I don't know why, but I did not want her to know of my situation. Girls like her would interpret the failure of my Dick rising as her fault, as if she wasn't beautiful enough. I decided to buy time by suggesting we eat first.

The chic wasn't cool with the idea. "After the first round," she said. I replied if she knew the way I wanted to f*ck her, she would pass out if there was no food in her system. That excited her and decided to eat, she didn't want me to "kill her".

I have no idea what we ate but she emptied her plate first. I took my time as if wasting it was in my favour, somehow.

By the time we returned to Stamford Bridge I had the belief my Dick wouldn't fail me. While we replayed the foreplay my Dick still wasn't swayed. Even as we went a step further after she got naked with no assistance. She tried to feel my dick as I laid on her but I pushed her hand away. I needed an excuse to leave the room.

I told her I needed to get condoms, instead of permitting me to walk out she leaned over to the bedside and brought some out from her bag. Then my phone rang.

I answered it, it was a girl who said she was in my vicinity and would love to see me. From the conversation it felt like we were f*ck mates and that was her motive of calling- to f*ck some more. I told her I was in and was expecting her. The chic that called, strangely, was [D]. I told the chic I was with that I had to meet up with the caller and how important it was to me, relating it how it would fetch me money.

Now, [D] arrived and we were in the living room downstairs while the other chic was lying naked in my bed. I began to make out with [D] downstairs with the hope my Dick would rise. My plan was, which might sound stupid, was to use [D] to make my Dick rise and run upstairs to f*ck the other girl. I attempted the first time, it rose but grew limp by the time I got to the stairs. She had no idea what was going on but know something was up. She wanted me to f*ck her but I wasn't interested, I wanted to use the hard-on on the other chic. I knew if I should penetrate her I wouldn't stop.
I increased the intensity of our make out session to the point she could have raped me. I knew I had reached that level of hard-on that would survive my trip up the staircase and into my room to f*ck the other chic. I ran as fast as possible, leaving [D] with no explanation once more. As I opened the door to my room and I saw the girl lying naked, out eyes focused on each other, I felt a great sign of relief. Yep, I had an orgasm as my right hand was still on the door knob. Apparently the excitement won't last into my room.

There was nothing I could say to explain. She saw me swing the door open, with my erect Dick just to release, and gradually it obeyed the law of gravity. I stepped back and closed the door, leaving her naked. I arrived downstairs and told [D] to go up to Stamford Bridge to wait for me as I stepped out of my house. I knew she would see the other chic and I didn't care.
I stood behind a tree [or something] on my street looking at my house to see who was going to step out first...or together.

No Thank You, Ma

I attended a wedding, had to be my 2nd. Fact is, I am not a fan of the whole ceremony. I mean, the preparation takes more effort than the actual event. Whenever I was at such events I usually create excitement...for me. I had no idea if weddings were the best place to pick up girls but I was going to find out.

There was this chic I was attracted to. The fact that I was attracted to her showed she had it all. I told one of my guys and he said she was related to the groom. I approached the younger brother of the groom who said otherwise. I told him, "since this is your brother's wedding you should be able to get any girl here, get me the girl's number". That was the arrangement.

The guy was stopped by one of the Madams at the wedding and told her what he was about to do. He pointed at the table and the Madam said she was going to handle it. The brother returned to my table and told me what happened, that the Madam requested I come to her table.

I sat next to the Madam and she told me the job was complete, and alI had to do was walk over to the table and ask her for the number. That should be pretty easy. She pointed at the girl who replied with a smile, but there was one problem. Although it was the same table it wasn't the same girl I was attracted to. This one was much older...like a Junior Madam. She kept looking at me, expecting me to walk over. I called over the groom's brother and made them realise she spoke to the wrong girl. Apparently it was the Madam's mistake.

Now I'm stuck in a wedding with a junior Madam eyes on me, expecting me to come over. I couldn't walk alone from there on. It wasn't my style to have a sugar mummy. The Madam should have realised the Junior Madam was older than I was, actually she said it did not matter that she would take care of me. Then again, what should I expect. The Madam herself designed herself with tattoos like she was in her early 20s, she probably had her own toy boy and was comfortable with the arrangement. That was when I noticed a lot of madams at this events had tattoos and most of them was below their necks as well. It could be a trend or a...iono.

Anyway, at the end of the party the Madam asked again if I talked to the junior madam, "No thank you, Ma".

Jesus Christ Makeover: The Many Hairstyles of Jesus

One difference I noticed at an early age between Christians and the Muslims was in the representation of the Prophets. The Islamic culture does not permit the replica [in any form] the image of the prophets. Ever watched movies of any of the Prophets in the Holy Quran? The prophet would be represented from a first person view. You never get to see any actor play the role instead the camera represented the eyes, what he was looking at at that time. That was why the animation 'The Prince of Egypt' was banned in Islamic countries because Moses, a Prophet, could be seen and they weren't cool with that.


Christians on the other hand don't care about that. They were cool with the images of Prophets especially Jesus. He was the handsome guy in a robe with facial hair. Lately, I noticed he had been undergoing hairstyles makeover in Jehovah Witness 'The Watchtower'. I've been a fan of materials published by Jehovah Witness because of the artistic talent behind their drawings. Remember 'My Book of Bible Stories'...I loved the art.


Anyway, like I said, I noticed his hairstyles had been changing to fit today's world. I recently saw one which looked like a Justin Bieber hairstyle during his 'Never Say Never' days. I only hope that one day it won't be a mohawk.


I've decided so share few pictures credited to the Jehovah Witness of the images of Jesus Christ...

Final Dress Rehearsal

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Gosh! You Can't Be This Stupid

Intelligence is one trait with no hiding place, especially tacit intelligence where an individual could apply experiences to solve future tasks. This post isn't that serious though, it was about a boy's stupidity that exceeded my expectations.

So a guy was about to sell his Blackberry he had used for quite a while. The main factor he had to consider before he passed it on was how to copy the phone contacts to his new phone. He had close to 500 phone numbers which exceeded the capacity the SIM card could allow. He could back up digitally but he decided to go manual and write out the numbers on paper. He was ignorant but get ready for stupid. The boy he gave to write out the numbers on paper took the award.


He told the boy, "please write down the phone numbers, format the phone and give it to [the buyer]". By the time the guy returned the boy handed over where he wrote the numbers, it covered three pages in a diary in three columns. The boy wrote down each number without the contact's name...like, how was he supposed to identify his contacts. It looked like a pool of numbers for a source code or something.


I couldn't help but ask what was going through his mind as he wasted his time writing the numbers without the name. He had also formatted the phone and there was no way of retrieving the numbers.
Whenever I was involved in a task I ask myself "what is the use of this?" If the guy had asked himself he would have known he wasn't doing what was intended.

Anyway, damn...this boy stupid.

Her Phone & Missed Calls

So I'm in a relationship with a very beautiful chic. I know this and people around me do confess...including their interest in having sex with her. One of my neighbours questioned me, he was out to prove I had no strong feelings towards her. He wanted me to introduce them so after I was 'done' he would have his turn. He kept asking, "Are you sure?" "Do you think something would come out of the relationship?" I was like, guy we haven't survived a month so I do not know. But what I do know was I really really like her. Then he asked if she was good in bed, trust me, I was good at changing the topic.

I know this girl was a hot cake and men had been to her place to pay visits. When I say 'men' I meant highly ranked military men, from Navy to Air Force. I mean, she was Fulani so it was normal to have such people on her contact list. The question I avoided answering was how much of her past I wanted to know.

My past relationships made me less interested in the past. I believed if the babe doesn't tell you it might be for your own good. She did tell me about few guys in my area that had approached her. One of them I knew well penned a love letter. I heard so many ways these guys attempted to make her their girlfriend...and failed. It made me uncomfortable because I wooed her by stopping her on the road, in the presence of her sister and said, "I want you to be my girlfriend". In my head I had so many lines I wanted to say but they were not needed as her response was "ok". That was it. Maybe it came too easy, I can't say. Maybe she had noticed me in the area and felt I was her type and I had the balls to approach her. Fact is I didn't apply much effort as they did.

So...the thing is, as I am typing this her phone was with me. She left her phone at my place to charge over the night and it had been buzzing since. Over 20 missed calls with texts messages. It was as if it was a customer care line. What do these people want, most of them had no name. It only raised my curiousity to either pick her calls or... I have a choice to go through the phone-messages, pictures, and stuffs, which I believe will make me know certain things about her but...iono, I don't know if I want to now. She left her phone knowing that was a possibility and obviously wasn't bothered, so why should I?

I did notice she stored some phone numbers with digits but mine was my name. Maybe that was a good sign, that I was more than 1 of those guys interested in her. I was 'Ade' her boyfriend. I've decided to switch off the phone and wait for tomorrow...to smile because that was the easiest to do with her around.

Promote National Unity...Date a Fulani

The gist is I am currently dating a Fulani chic. After dating a sample representation of the ethnic groups in Nigeria, I have found myself calling a fulani chic "girlfriend".

I have dated Beautiful girls but this one without makeup goes straight to the top. Plus I find the fact that she covers herself up with their long scarfs, revealing only her face, attractive.

When I'm walking with her I get the sense of being in a relationship and not just dating. She broke the rule of the kind of girl I would have loved to date.

Don't get it twisted, I am not saying she is the stars, moon, and everything in the galaxy, but she brightens my day and I am satisfied with that.

I am not saying we would get married and have lots of babies...infact she doesn't make me think too much about the future, just the 'now'. The feeling I have that way we share could end any minute makes me enjoy every second.

Her sister is hilarious and we could spend hours dissing ourselves for the fun of it. This girl was in JS 3, yet she had wicked punchlines. I can't believe she made me say "her existence was the reason to argue legalising abortion". Damn! We laughed though.

This family was making me learn a lot about how diversified Nigerians were and the social boundary we created in our minds. My suggestion at this level was, promote national unity by dating a Fulani.

From Yankee With Love

A relative based in America decided to be a bit generous. She was importing a car into Nigeria, a bus, and decided to fill every space available with gift items. I never expected anything from her, I don't even know what she looked like but she was considerate enough to remember me.

By the time I saw the stuffs she sent I felt INSULTED. It was as if she believed she was sending stuffs back in time, like Nigeria was that backward. One of the items was a TV manufactured in August 1983. Like seriously, I should dispose of my TV for one with knobs and antennae.


She also sent T-shirts. And I'm referring to promo shirts, those one you get for free. Like a shirt with a caption "Know Your HIV Status", imagine 30 of the same type and colour. It was only cartoon characters I knew will wear the same shirt everyday, and I ain't one.


She also sent a mattress. Why should anyone import a used mattress to Nigeria? This woman insult was getting too much.


She also sent a disc man, I can't remember the last time I saw one of those. There was also a cassette player. Why? Why did Nigeria Customs allow these junk to pass through.

And she also sent a bag of rice. How sweet. I have enough materials to have an antique road show.