Tuesday, July 31, 2012

July 2012: What? Why? How?

July came and ended in like 24 hours. I can still remember the 1st of July (metaphorically). You know, there were still some things that went down led to questions I don't have answers to. This is July 2012's "What? Why? How?"

• Why has Kanye/Kim relationship last this long?

• What is wrong with NEPA because I doubt I've enjoyed electricity like this since I was born?

• Where would Van Persie's end up next season?

• How would the opening ceremony of the Olympics have been if Lagos was the host city?

• Will Dark Knight Rises still become the highest grossing movie of the year, considering the tragedy at Aurora?

Posting on this blog via email became difficult. I have over 200 posts and less than probably 20 was updated with the use of a computer. I usually type 'em on my phone and send to an email linked to this blog to update automatically. But Google fall my hand. It stopped working, I'm not even sure this will update as I'm about to give it another try...

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Death has to be Easy 'Cause Life is Hard

The functionalist view of the society suggest some things we see/experience around us were necessary for the society to function. Regardless if we found it favourable or not. The terrorists, criminals, rapists....all these people had functions in the society, such functions would be directly/indirectly related to YOUR purpose in life. For instance, if we had no criminals there wouldn't be much use for lawyers. Also, the absence of criminals would mean great movies like Oceans Eleven would never be made.

 I noticed early in life all fingers were not equal, that there were those who couldn't afford my leftover and those I couldn't afford theirs. I learnt of the inequality called life, and death might be the only experience we humans shared in common. I noticed individuals that lived in terrible conditions that made me ask myself "is this necessary for our society to function effectively?" Sure I knew the answer but reluctant to admit it. These individuals were those I regard as living in about-to-die conditions. Those living on the edge I believe would be better off dead. Those that make me say death has to be easy because life is hard.

 As a kid I look at those people and walk away with little or no guilt. In my twenties now, things have changed. I could decide to assist someone less privilege. Even with the choice and capability I've acquired, I realised I walk away most of the time. I ask myself "how many can I help?" and walk away. I had to rationalise to clear my conscience.

 There was this old woman I saw early in the morning on my way to the university years ago. If I was to guess her age it would be within the range of 70 to 80 years old. I left for school early, before 7 o'clock, and this woman was out by then. She sat by the road side at a busstop close to First Bank, Bariga branch, selling razor blade. She would have between 7 to 10 packs and scream "blade ni o" to attract potential customers. I say with confidence there were days her wares couldn't fetch more than ₦100, yet she was up before sunrise to sell goods which revenue couldn't cover my bus fare for the day. What good would that money do to her? She was aged and probably had kids and grand kids, I wonder what their take was on her trying to make a living in an age where she was suppose to be profiting from the fruits of their labour. I could give this woman ₦5,000 but I won't. I would rather spend it on cinema tickets. I walk away and tell myself I would help people like her when I'm a millionaire. With loads of cash I would be very charitable but who am I deceiving, claiming to be benevolent after assisting someone when the real cost was totally insignificant.

 My friend Uncle Oshio had a sensitive side to such situations. There was an old man, probably approaching his 90s that sold Q-tips by the road side. This man was also in an about-to-die condition but still needed that ₦ to survive. Uncle Oshio bought all he had to sell one day and it cost about ₦70 (I can't remember the exact amount) but it was change. I'm not interested in the monetary value but the act. It reminded me of the old woman, even if I didn't have ₦5,000 to give the least I could was to buy. We can't be that sensitive always. Most times it was easier to walk away because of the burden we carried and it wasn't wise to put another's man own on our shoulders. At such situations we might be regarded as heartless by others due to their ignorance of our personal plight.

 An old man I had no idea how we was able to get on his feet did menial jobs. The reason I believe people gave him tasks to do was to find an excuse to give him money and still feel they weren't being...cheated? There was an occurence where a man hired him to cut the shrubs and weed in front of his house. He paid him and left for work. He returned to find they were still there untouched while those around the house next his were cut nicely. The man got vexed and sought the old man for an explanation. The old man claimed he did the work. Apparently the old man did cut the shrubs and weed but not the one he was paid to do. His sense of reasoning was already failing. The man suggested the old man repay him or cut those in front of his house. People felt pity for the old man but no one could voluteer to assist. Someone made a statement about the man being insensitive to the old man's condition. But like I said, no one was willing to bring out a cutlass to assist. All they could give was sympathy because it was cheap.

 There's a maid in my area. The house help was less than 10 years old, serious child labour. At an early age her family pushed her into such to raise extra income. Her future had been greatly affected because I saw this girl writing one day. Her handwriting was like calligraphy, beautiful. She wrote about her family and primary school she attended before she became a full-time house help. She had been deprived of functioning at her full potential and in years time, she might become that woman who sat by the road side in Bariga, screaming "blade ni o".

Boko Zallah

If Boko Haram could be translated to mean "western education is a sin", what is Boko Zallah?

I saw this poster at Yola Modern Market, Adamawa.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Mikel Obi's Twitter Bio

This has to be the most honest, yet funny Twitter bio. Mikel making fun of his inability to score goals.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

When Your Penis Takes the Wrong Turn

I learn a lot from the opposite sex. They seem to know a lot about sex and everything sexually related. I remember when a guy bragged about going multiple rounds, "I can f*ck for 6 rounds," he said. It was me, him, and a chic having a discussion. The chic said authoritatively, "it's not the number of rounds that mattered but the number of thrusts. How many times the guy could go in/out in succession without an orgasm". It sounded like the obvious but prior when she said it I never thought of it that way.

I also learnt of an unfortunate occurrence that only affected males [or females with penis], from a female. It was called Penile Fracture.
After a match at Stamford Bridge with a chic [obviously], we were having our post-match conference while dressing up and somehow the topic was her boyfriend. Not ex-boyfriend but current one [but that's not the gist]. I was cool she had a boyfriend and she knew I wasn't interested in breaking them up [although she's against me using the term 'friend with benefit'].

Back to what I learnt, she told me her boyfriend had a surgery to correct penile fracture. I thought she was trying to break my balls, I mean, forget it's called a 'boner' the dick had no bone.

According to her, the boyfriend had this weird habit he did with his erect penis. You know how you could press/pull on your finger till you heard a pop! sound, well, the boyfriend use to do that to his dick anytime it was erect. Yep, cracking his dick. He did that one early morning and on a particular day, his penis shifted to the left while he was in great pain. I could imagine. His penis maintained an odd yoga-like shape. He had to be rushed to the hospital. I heard that and a scene from the movie 'Something About Mary' popped into my head. Where Ben Stiller's character zipped up his trousers so fast and part of his balls for stuck.

I was still in doubt so I went to the oracle of knowledge, Google. I also checked wikipedia where it was described as "an injury caused by the rupture of the tunica albuginea, which envelops the corpus cavernosum penis. It is most often caused by a blunt trauma to an erect penis...The 'reverse cow-girl position' is notorious in the aetiological cause of penis fracture".
I also read on the site a legal case where a guy took his ex girlfriend to court for bodily harm after suffering penile fracture during intercourse.

I was surprised the sh!t existed, i thought i had seen it all watching 'house'. she continued with what happened in the hospital. For obvious reasons the doctor/nurses felt she must have contributed to it. Like she had suggested a kamsutra-Cirque du Soleil type position till he broke his dick. But I didn't feel for her being accused, it was the boyfriend I felt for. You see, what binds men is our penis. As a man you might not feel anything for your fellow man losing his wife/job/sense...but if anything happened to his balls/penis we feel for him immediately. I mean, another man balls get kicked and we go "Awwww" before he does.
The surgery involved making an incision close to the shaft of the penis...and veins...damn! too bloody... then the penis was bandaged. Every morning he woke up with any erection, every morning he was in pain. He got on his feet to walk it off. The fear of his family was his penis not to be decommissioned after the operation but his chic tested it OK. I trust her on that matter.

From now on, I pledge not to get involved in any sexual position that I can't see the chic's face. Except that position that the...

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Help the Conjition of my friend in Turkey

Conjition (adjective): A state of intense agro.

Agro (adjective): being fucking horny.

A friend travelled earlier in the year, January, to Turkey for educational purpose [not like those in Malaysia for the same reason]. He got admission into a university for an undergraduate degree. He could have done that in Nigeria, maybe he thought a foreign university the look nice on his CV. A Turkish one for that matter. Turkey was one of the countries I had limited knowledge of. I think it was a Muslim state vying for a spot in the European Union [I think, I am not sure]. Anyway, I chat with my friend quite often and he recently opened to me his condition, conjition.

He told me he was horny, like fucking horny, and for almost six months he had been away he was yet to have sex. He had a steady girlfriend before he travelled so he wasn't used to not getting a regular does of sex. His condition was a severe conjition that he was sweating/sneezing sperm [yea, it's an exaggeration but you get the point]. He was at a point if you cut his flesh open he would bleed sperm because his body was dying for an orgasmic release.

He told me of the hot/cold attitude of babes in Turkey. They say "I love you today" and for no apparent reason say "I don't love you again" the following week [maybe that was the only English language they understood]. It wouldn't have been an issue if he got to nack while they were still "in love". The male Turks didn't make it easy for him. He claimed they were jealous plus had a possessive attitude towards "their women".

I suggested he date Nigerians over there and he said that was worse. That he was not financially capable to date a Nigerian in Turkey. Even in Turkey they had the Nigerian attitude of making outrageous demands. It was cheaper to f*ck prostitutes than date a female Nigerian.

My friend is fucking horny and considering he had 3 more years to go I decided to cry out to people, anyone who was in Turkey of travelling there soon to 'hep' my friend's conjition before he turns into a pillar of sperm and starts impregnating females by talking to them. If you could help please leave a comment and his sexual performance would be your reward.

Sunday, July 15, 2012


Two of my neighbours had a heated argument. One was female while the other was male. They were both over 50 years old and had been neighbours for almost two decades, with a fence separating their houses. The showdown occurred in front of their houses, the roadside. The shocker for me was these two neighbours were on the bottom of the troublemakers' list, yet they were able to get attention with their misunderstanding. So what happened?

The man got a contract to manufacture building blocks for a house under construction in the neighbourhood. With the partnership of a Pastor they combined resources to execute it. They acquired a block making machine along with the services of labourers. The location was the open space in front of the man's gate. His house wasn't close to the main road and it was possible [this is Nigeria]. The man would be off to his usual place of work while the Pastor would be the project supervisor in his absence.

The woman complained to the Pastor that the machine was too close to her gate and wanted it moved. She didn't give any specific reason but wanted it distanced. She stopped the labourers from making blocks on the first day despite bags of cement had been opened and would be wasted if not utilised. The problem was the machine couldn't just be moved. It had a large diesel engine as a source of power, those ones with barrel filled with water attached, and it was already rigged to the ground. The woman rained insults on the Pastor, demanding who permitted him. The Pastor called her neighbour on phone, because he was not around, to explain the situation and possible solution. He responded that he was on his way home.

Passers-by might have felt the woman was heartless. Why was she adamant not to permit these men from making money? She could have allowed them just for the day, she could but she didn't. The neighbour arrived and went to the woman to explain but he got the leftover insults. When he told to whom it may concern his own side of the story I could have judged she was a bitter old woman. They had to stop work till the next day and move the machine farther from her house.

I couldn't jump to a conclusion, otherwise my Psychology degree would be wasted. I looked at the machine and it hit me, the reason she might have reacted as such. Her grandson.

Her grandson was a handsome young chap who had an accident in primary school. He was about to switch off a diesel generator in their home when what he wore got stuck in the generator to the part of the engine that rotate, and that was it. He got pulled closer with his head violently hitting the generator. He was knocked out in his pool of blood. He spent months in the hospital intensive care unit, and had scars he would forever live with. It wasn't something anyone who knew him before the accident could forget easily. I mean, he is married now [at 22 years old but that's another story], but there were signs he could have been better off...mentally.

That concrete block making machine had the same design and the rotating part was also exposed. It must have been a traumatic experience after she saw that. But the neighbour had no idea what she might have gone through. He only saw insults and could not see the reason behind it. That was not just a block making machine...it was trauma.

Thursday, July 12, 2012


When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so... special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice
When I'm not around
You're so... special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

She's running out the door
She's running
She run, run, run, run

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so... special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here

Sunday, July 8, 2012

The King and the Banana: A Very Short Story

Once upon a time, a King thought he had the biggest penis in the kingdom until he saw a banana. The End.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

My Sexy. Girlfriend

It was an experience going out publicly with my sexy. girlfriend. People say she looks like Kim Kardashian and I Kanye West. What a beauty.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

What They Don't Know

They say what they don't know won't kill them. Probably in certain cases. I do know certain things they don't know and it wasn't in my position to tell them. I turn to the little boy in the corner, the spectator, watching their lives like a tele novela.

I know this Guy did not get to graduate. We were in the same Faculty in the University of Lagos. He was one of those who claimed 'big boys'. While I was a graduate he had an extra year before he was 'advice to withdraw'. But his girlfriend had no idea. She was proud of her boyfriend and boasted they were off to the UK in September for their Masters programme. How could a guy who failed to have a Cumulative Grade Point Average over 1.0 get admission into any university for a MA programme? Well, with lies, all things were claimed possible. His girl would find out eventually, but not from me.

There is this Man who got involved in politics and became an Honourable. He lasted a term but the title stuck. The Honourable relocated to England and relatives assumed he must be living the life, you know, after Nigeria politics. Well, someone travelled to the London and realised the Honourable was an honourable taxi driver. I don't intend to criticise someone surviving on an honest work but the way he acted whenever he was in Nigeria contradicted his lifestyle in London. I mean, in his apartment in London you weren't permitted to flush after urinating except it was sh!t. Also plates were rinsed in water in a basin so that they could be reused through out the day. He did these just to save cost but in Nigeria, Honourable had a lavish lifestyle. This they don't know.

What a family do not know is their daughter had an extra year in school and wasn't eligible for National Youth Service (NYSC). She lied about graduation and that she was posted for service. She couldn't stand to see her parents disappointed. She packed her bags, left home for the bus park, with the intention she was off for the orientation camp in Ekiti where she claimed to be posted. It was supposed to be a 6 to 7 hours journey. Her parents kept calling to know if she had arrived at the destination, worried. If only they knew she was few miles away, crashing with a friend close to the gates of University of Lagos, preparing for her extra year 2nd semester exams. How would she keep this up?

What I didn't know was why a Guy was getting married in Nigeria while two of his brothers remained in the United States. The parents, other siblings, and the groom all travelled from the US to Nigeria for the wedding except two of them. On Facebook one of brothers in the US wrote "Lasgidi state of mind". Now, I thought he was in Nigeria. I don't know why, but I googled his name and the first link on the search result was www.justice.gov/usao/nj/Pressrelease...
That's United States Attorney's Office, New Jersey, Press release... From what I read, these brothers were serving 30 months in prison for "one count of conspiracy to commit identity theft and wire fraud...on September 28, 2010, and October 20, 2010". "In addition to the prison term,...the Judge sentenced the brothers to three years of supervised release and ordered them to pay $177,217.72 in restitution. The sentence does not preclude them from facing additional civil penalties". That was what I didn't know and that answered a lot of my questions. If I knew earlier I wouldn't have been seeking for answers, but would have been offering prayers.