EncorE

“To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under Heaven,
a time to be born, and a time to die,
a time to plant, and a time to pluck that which was planted…
a time to tear, and a time to sew,
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-7 (The Maxwell’s leadership bible)

The story you are about to read is Based on a True story (yes leave it like that). It is still a true story. I have shared this story with just one person of recent and summarized it briefly to about a gathering of 11. Today, however, for the sake of posterity, I shall share it here on my blog.

The date was October 3rd 2003.

That was all I remembered.

Rewinding back a bit, I’m back in UNIBEN and had just finished from my routine dance rehearsals with FLAMES. I couldn’t rehearse properly because I was feeling feverish and so I left for my room located off campus (osasogie for those who know Uniben). The next day was a Saturday and still having signs of the fever, I proceeded to my friend’s house in town for proper medical care seeing as they are all doctors in the house. As God will have it, I got to the gate of the house, pressed the bell and slumped.

Everything written from this point is as I was told.

I was found on the floor foaming from the mouth and was rushed to the University of Benin Teaching Hospital (UBTH). I spent 8 days in the hospital with my family by my side and all this while, I was connected to an oxygen ‘machine’ (actually, a gas cylinder with a pipe leading to my nose/mouth). I couldn’t recognize anyone. My mum daily reading bible passages to me. She never left my side. And on the 7th day, it happened. All vital signs ceased. I was wheeled into the emergency ward and 2 hours later certified dead. Yup. D-E-A-D!. My dad was called to the doctor’s office and told this news, he wept like a baby but had to man up and tell my mum, my elder brother and sister as well as my kid sis. As I type this now, I realize how hard this must have been for him and I’m shaking all over, Tears are actually forming in my eyes. My mum screamed and wailed “No! NO! NOOOO!!!”
Meanwhile, I was put in a body bag enroute the morgue. My brother (steveHarris) told me later on that he requested to see me and he and my elder sister came to where I lay lifeless and cried their eyes out while muttering short prayers. That same day, the Union of Doctors embarked on a nationwide strike and being a federal hospital, UBTH had to join in. a circular was released to the effect of families coming to relocate their loved ones to other hospitals. My parents had to move their son in a body bag back to Lagos for burial.

8 hours after, the death certificate was prepared. (I should take a picture of it someday). The room where I lay was open. A nurse was passing by and then she let out a loud scream. The body bag was moving! My folks ran in and there I was gasping for air..i was immediately put back on oxygen and the emotions all around were better experienced, unfortunately, I missed out and as such can’t explain it here explicitly. This oxygen contained in a small gas cylinder was going to last just a short while and all doctors were on strike. (only student doctors-in-training were present) I had to be moved to lagos asap. Long story short, I was arranged to be transferred to Havana hospital and getting to berger in Lagos, the oxygen finished. Yup. I died again. No breathing, no nothing. I was in the back seat lying between my mum and a student doctor (my fellowship pastor) who had accompanied us at the risk of losing his medical status if anything went wrong. With major traffic at Berger, we got to Havana specialist hospital after about 45mins. I was told that I opened my eyes as we got to the entrance of the hospital. Another miracle, right? I stayed at Havana for 3 months. Actually, I was in a coma for 3 months and all that time, my mum and family never left my side. (well, my lil sis had to go write GCE sha 😀 )

After all was said and done, I was diagnosed as having “Viral Encephalitis” (my knowledge of medicine is lame so..¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯ ) but it has to do with inflammation of the brain and causes memory loss etc (I couldn’t recognize people after treatment so I had my friend go everywhere with me in school to avoid ‘that awkward moment when someone says, “Kelvin, whats up?” And I’m like “do I know you?”)
I was also taught to walk again because I was bed ridden for 3 months. Dammit my leg muscles were dead. I have a scar on the right part of my head, where my skull was drilled to access some liquid in my spine or something. At the point of discharge, we were told some sad news.

“those who survive Viral encephalitis are prone to some form of permanent disability. Blindness, deafness, or body paralysis”..well not my portion and definitely not me. Nothing of that sort happened to me but then again, that must have been how I lost my mind.. 😀

Now, to the essence of this post.

I Thank God for keeping me and no one needed to tell me to give my life to Him afterall, He had proven that whatever is kept in His hands, He’s able to keep. Yes, like Mr Virgin ‘toxic’. I’m proudly Team Jesus all the way. Now, that ‘death experience’ made me better. Gave me more reason to live. For there to be life, there has to be death. Where am I going with this?

I’m quitting this blog.

I’m not closing it down like I wanted to but I’m officially off till whenever..(I started blogging when I read NaijaFineboy’s blog. Though he doesn’t blog again, he didn’t close it)…you can view it here , so there’s the possibility someone might read this someday and be inspired.

Here’s my reason though: there are so many blogs out there and we can’t deny that quality has become questionable. Content is drab and we now have nothing to write on but Twitter and about people on twitter. To a large extent, I KNOW that I contributed to this phenom and I’m not in any way pleased about it. Allowing my personal life on there was a big lesson (which I’ve learnt) and even the “In the NEWS” section of my blog still contains IMO low content and quality. I know I’m better than this. I would rather associate myself with good writers under one blog (like Afrosays or The Naked Convos) rather than churn out stuff not ‘tight’ enough. This is a time to better myself, sit at the feet of the masters and learn.

You may wonder how quitting my blog will aid or stop this. Well it may not, heck! No one will even notice BUT I will always feel good knowing I wasn’t part of the problem but among those who sought a solution, and what better way to spew better posts than bettering oneself?

I do hope to feature on blogs as Guest whenever I’m invited. (invite me please) I must apologise to all those who may frown at this decision but I plead that you allow me do this for me. For those who have sent me posts for ‘Sunday Guest’, I’m so sorry. I can forward them to any blogger friends of mine if you desire..*sigh*™

Ah well, this is my swan song. Hopefully, others who are ‘contaminating’ Blogsville will realize their folly and take a cue. While everyone is entitled to write whatever, do so with creativity, writing skill, love and respect. But even if they don’t, those with quality blogs will yet again shine through.

I ‘resurrected’ after three months back then in 2003 and came back better, it could happen again.

And oh! This doesn’t make me the ‘sacrificial lamb’ oh. I’m definitely not trying to be a martyr (is that spelt right?) Or ‘die’ for anyone’s ‘sins’..I’m just doing what my heart and head tell me to do now.

“…except a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone: but if it dies, it produces much grain…” John 12:24

 

In The NewS IV

“Its time for the news o! where is that boy? Has anyone seen KWAL?”
“Sir, he hasn’t come to work since Saturday”
“Since SATURDAY?!!! Who is going to cast the news then?”
“Sir, we have options. There’s MissJailer, There’s Abuka and there’s GossiperGirly”
“Mtscheeew!!! I don’t want any of them. Get me “THE MAN!”
“*gasps* Sir, but THE MAN has retired!”
“I don’t care if he’s tired, tiring or trying to retire. GET HIM!”

Good Morning, Afternoon, Evening and welcome to your someday someday Tonic. My name is PhrankOlizer and I have been drafted in to read the news in the absence of your regular host KWAL. Please note that the management of this station has declared KWAL wanted. Any information about his whereabouts should please be reported to the nearest err…station?!
Welcome again…You sure don’t want to miss this. Here are some of the Major stories for this edition.

Under 25 night driving banned
Hoeliver Twisting banned
Price of Ugwu skyrockets as a result of scandal.
State of emergency declared on Blogsville

We’ll be back after this message from our sponsors.

*#np Chigurl’s Enigma…”don’t be a weist…”

Welcome back.

The Resident and supposed Commando in chief of the Federal republic of 9ja, Dr GridLock JoorOh has been rumored to have introduced a new rule banning people under the age of 25 from driving at night. Our information sources revealed that this rule was necessitated after the resident’s convoy was involved in a near fatal car accident on the ever busy Asokoro road in Abuja. The resident was returning from a night out with the ‘boys’ in celebration of the recent release of 9ja footballer Micah obi’s father.
Riding in Micah’s Range Rover sport, it was reported that Mr Micah had had too much to drink and swerved the car while trying to avoid a pothole thus crashing into the road divider. We got this audio recording from one of the residents aides showing what ensued after:

Resident: “Micah, are you mad? You want to kill me? Are you high?”
Micah: “Your excellency..i ’m … I’m sorry! Blame it on the alcohol”
Resident: “in this drama, you’re still quoting Kanye?”
Micah: “Jamie Foxx actually sir!”
Resident: “You must be high. Shey the Chelsea is worrying you?”
Micah: “Sir, lets not bring my club into this..please”
Resident: *turns to his wingman* “Amadi can you imagine this boy o?”
Micah: “ Sir, I was just trying to dribble past the pothole on your road”
Resident: “Dribble? DRIBBLE? When last did you dribble past anything in your life? Your own is to be carrying ball back”
Micah: “Sir, I shall not stand here and listen to you insult my skills, I am going to sit down.”
Resident: “I’m sure those skills involve inability to score a goal in 4 years” *laughs and hi5’s Amadi*
Micah: “I have had it..i’m walking away!”
Resident: “come back here small boy!”
Amadi: “hahahaa..he’s joking sir, just quoting Craig david.”
*Micah enters car and drives off*
Resident *transfixed* “Amadi, ARE YOU JUST GONNA STAND THERE AND WATCH ME…”
Amadi: “Eminem and Rihanna sir, nice one!”
Resident: “You’re just foolish. Get me the national rule book. I have a new rule to enforce”

So people, that is the inside scoop on the origin of this new rule. Don’t ask me if Micah is under 25. His father has been released, go and ask him.

In more Ban news, the recent musical released from the stables of MOreHeaT titled “Hoeliver Twisting” has been canned by the NBC. Haha! NBC, Canned 😀 ..get it? Yes? 🙂 No? 😦 ok 😐 …The song was banned for various reasons among which are:

Content: we hear that the the lyrics of the song which depict D’bangs desire and intention towards some women were frowned at by these women. Our correspondent reveals that Bee said “who is stopping D’bang from being with me? He better come now before i become the best he never had.” As a result of much confusion, the lyrics are being worked on as we speak by master poet D’prinz

Video: The trouser worn by DonJasi was considered not fit for viewing pleasure as it looked like it was something borrowed out of LuClays Pyjamas closet,
Also, In the background was a paused PS3 game between Arsenal and Man UTD with the score at 0-0. This was also considered misleading and false. A petition was sent to the NBC by ManUtd stating that ” the default scoreline in any match between the two sides should be 8-2″
Lastly, lots of people are reported to have injured themselves while attempting to record their own Twisting videos. The latest victim being Man City’s Samir Nasri who broke his hand while attempting to do some. Kraze Brown type hand movement ish.

*who writes these things? What on earth is ish?*
Cameraman: “Issue sir!”

Hmmm..
In Twitter news, Saturday’s seem to bring out the best of tweeps. This Saturday was no exception as another ‘scandal’ seemed to rock the Twitterverse. The main characters in this drama were Slim, TBN and k..wait! WHAT? KWAL? Our own KWAL? Oh my! Our correspondent TheGuttedPrince who always has his nose in these scandals reports that all hell broke loose when TBN who happened to have been ‘dumped’ out of CaptainPanda’s P-setting class tweeted thus:

“Wait! When Slim cheated on me & left me for KWAL, she let the whole world know! Now that they have split, no blog???” (E can pain sha. Choi!!!)

Before you could scream “Ugwu”, it was everywhere and Slim and KWAL begun trending again (for the wrong reasons eh?). Anyway, its no wonder KWAL has gone AWOL. He’s probably hiding his head under some rock somewhere.. As usual, different theories flew left, right and center and KWAL decided to keep mute. He did however send a text message to his guy ‘Terror’ who leaked it to us for a tube of lube. The text read: “I shall not engage in mudslinging ‘cos I have much respect for mud!” Deeper revelations show that his BIS abi BBWEEK must have expired. KWAL is just a Broke ass, spineless, i-have-shit-in-my-pants Mo’fo. WAIT!! Who wrote this news?

**commotion in newsroom, man dashes into studio, pushes PhrankOlizer off seat*

Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is VickDaFreshPrince and I have a confession. Yes. There was a 3rd guy involved. O_O Don’t believe everything you read on your timeline. This whole thing is one big jersey shore drama and its deeper than you think you know…*evil laugh* You think Slim will just blog and expose herself like that? You think KWAL has become ‘popular’ by mistake? You think its normal that KWAL and Slim are still friends after it all? Oh c’mon. You think KWAL and TBN didn’t plan this shit? I even have a picture of them (which I took) to prove it. (don’t make me leak it). I am the 3rd guy in this trinity..infact, I am actually the first. KWAL is just a serial home wrecker. This is a script written a long long looong time ago. I kid you not. Since the punk ass, silence-is-the-best-answer-for-a-cry-baby-so-i-wont-say-a-thing KWAL won’t say a thing, I, in my awesomeness have taken this load upon myself and will hereby reveal to you all the ‘TRUE 411″ #no419

For more information.
http://freshprinz.wordpress.com/2011/09/08/not-another-ugwu-story/

*drops mic and walks out*

*PhrankOlizer re-enters* well guys you heard the man…

To end the news today, before some other mad hatter runs in here. I’m too old for this shit.

A state of emergency has been declared in Blogsville as it has been discovered that anything you blog can be used against you on Twitter. This has resulted in some popular bloggers taking a back seat to avoid the lash and stoning from the thirsty, stone-in-hand tweeps. We would like to remind our viewers that generalizations are dangerous. There still are some wonderful writers out there and a few bad eggs shouldn’t define the whole. And remember, if you have a Twitter account and enjoy cursing bloggers, be careful because you are also referring to yourself.
According to Wikipedia, “Twitter is an online social networking and MICROBLOGGING service that enables its users to send and read text based posts of up to 140 characters” 😀

That wraps it up for the news ladies and Gentlemen. Remember to live in peace and love with each other. Till KWAL returns from his Ugwu hibernation…

*VickDaFreshPrinz storms in again*
http://freshprinz.wordpress.com/2011/09/08/not-another-ugwu-story/

 

ThE 411

😀 *sitting on rocking chair, cuban in mouth #ImaBawse* Gotcha! Didn’t I? Oh the thirst! This is me just feeling your pulse…You’re still scrolling down? Nothing here..YET…you can run along now. See you soon.
*puffs out* 😀

 

In The NewS

“Oya sit down!”

“What! Is it by force? I’m not in the mood o!”

“You must read news o! Which kain hibernation are you on? Sit down there and read my fren’ olori gbeske oshi!”

*sigh* <—- (my most used word nowadays, I pronounce it sef…sigh!)

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening and whatever it is wherever you are. Welcome to the news and here are the headlines.

Car crash at UN building
Blogs and Twitter…the feud continues
The last Naija Virgin speaks
In sports, Arsene Wager awakened at Theatre of Dreams
And finally in entertainment.. The koko behind Beyoncé's baby bump.

And now the details… *Sigh*

Nigerians woke up on friday with many expecting the day to be the 'bomb,' Little did they know it was going to be exactly so. An unidentified man driving a honda Accord defied the massive gate and plunged the car into the UN building in abuja setting off explosions of cataclysmic proportions that resulted in the demise of many. Just before his death, our correspondent who had prior info of this accident was at the scene and got this from the horse' mouth as he was stretchered off:

"Sir, sorry o. What happened?"
Man: "am I dead yet? Are you the first of the virgins?"
"Sir, lets not talk about my sex. What happened here? Where are you from?"
"Man: Ah! I'm not yet dead o! Choi!!! Fuck up!! So this isn't paradise? *sees MTN recharge card seller nearby* Fuck!!!
"Sir, this thing.. attack or accident?"
Man: "its Gboko o! GBOKO!! I visited him and we listened to Timaya's "I wan blow",He told me he has a harem and all I need to do is..ah! I need to die! 77 virgins! 77!! Even that blogger won't pass up the chance *sobs* kill me already o!!!
"Sir, you are disgrace to the Nigerians, you are the jazz and demons that is the problem of the country. You are Evilish, so Evilish!"
Man: †☁DEAD☁†

Thank you Rita for that errr…for that!

Cold wars are normally synonymous with Russia but no russians were involved in the wars that blew up blogsville and Twitter at the weekend. Information from Trusted sources inform us of the real story behind the posts by TheGuttedPrince.

First of all, this should be blamed on IceFish. Remember that 'essay competition, win a BB by IceFish?" Well our sources say that only one contestant entered it and thus won..yes you guessed right. Formerly MrJabuTrash,
This man sought followbacks from these 'celebs' who refused him (choi! E can pain o!) while he was on SnapTu, armed with a BB now, He changed handle to TheGuttedPrince and decided to 'finish' all those who looked down on him in his SnapTu days.

*Ghen Ghen*

..going round blogsville seeking a platform but finding none (most of the bloggers were doing series or just chicken), TheGuttedPrince came in contact with Terror who jumped at the chance to host such a post BUT Terror needed some spiritual back up for a Blog breakthrough and Twitter prominence so he contacted SlimAmbulanceSound and Therepairman for some help and yup, at the end of the day, with 900+ comments and over 10,000 views, TheGuttedPrince had become a SoupOrStar! And then like most people who allow 'fame' get to them, he did a sequel and while the crowd wanted more, he couldn't meet the demand..Recent updates reaching us say he's now begging tweeps to stop going in on the people he dissed. Talk about medicine after death….shit! Am I still reading the news?

Back to the news, so there were posts and counterposts, people deleting their twitter accounts and Blogexplaining why they deleted their accounts and stories about wrapped amalas and sidekicks and gay parties and shit..*uh oh* I'm on air mehn, what tha fuck! I shouldn't be using such vulgar shit here.

*for the last carriers, enjoy these links*

http://terdoh.wordpress.com/2011/08/27/celebrate-me/ (POST 1)

http://thelmatweets1.wordpress.com/2011/08/28/tweetoracle-love-or-angst/ (POST 1 REPLY)

*The blog of post 2 has been deleted*

http://thatcrazyblackgirl.blogspot.com/2011/08/bankyre-organising_29.html?m=1 (POST explaining deletion of post 2)

http://terdoh.wordpress.com/2011/08/28/encore/ (POST 3 explaining POST 1)

I think its safe to say that Blogs be taking over the twitterverse as people who want to 'voice' their opinions in more than 140 characters find their way there. However, while blogs are avenues for personal expression on whatsoever, they shouldn't be used derogatorily or without sense…who am I to talk sef?

*sigh*

In other Blog news, Sir Richard Branson will be proud of news emanating from Nigeria on the emergence of the 'Last Nigerian Virgin'. This revelation came also on blogville as a young man by the name of ToxicWeist decided to shame the devil and all the bad people (too much daddy showkey in the system) and announce his 'stand' (emm is this a good word here?) on the matter. Our correspondent caught up with Mr Weist through a phone call:

"Goodday sir, we've been trying to reach you. Can we come?"
Toxic "ehn? Cum where? Pls stay away from me! You're among them that are now following me abi? You people should stop following me. I'm not doing"
"Sir we just want to know the truth about your stand"
Toxic: "I'm perfectly normal, ignore what you've heard, I'm close to 8inches"
"Sir, so you're the last virgin on twitter doesn't this put you under pressure?"
Toxic: "who says I'm the last? Don't be deceived, we are legion. Remember that yoruba chic that had a tweetfight with her namesake? There's one fresh prince, one thinking tanker, one sisi girl with no socks, we r plenty jare!"
"Sir is it lack of opportunity that informed this decision?"
Toxic: "Lack of opportunity ke? *plays KidKonnect version of Look at me now and does some white man dance* do I look like I don't have chance to knack? Have you seen my TorsoThursday adverter? Don't go there o! I just don't wanna knack. Simple!" If you try me now..ah! This na temptation!
"Sir, a mallam friend of yours revealed that you gave out a major part of your 'kini' and it was used for suya. Is this true?"
Toxic: "choi! Its a lie o!"
"Ok sir can you put up a pic of your kini on Twitter so we can be sure you have……"
Toxic:" Taaaa!! Do I look like Chris Brown?
"So sir, you don't have balls?"
Toxic:" I have balls o, big bouncing balls, but leave it. Filébé "
"Ok sir, Lastly, You seem to be good friends with Wande coal, can you tell us why he's not singing again?"
Toxic "ha! After that picture leak..No Long thing now"
"Thank you for your time sir and may God make you bigger"
Toxic:" your Father!"

Read his story here: http://t.co/PtUuG7r

In Sports News, Arsenal manager Arsene Wager was jolted to reality after his side was humiliated 8-2 at the Theatre of dreams by Manchester Utd…abeg editor, this news is stale juh…

Lastly Pop sensation Beyoncé is about to pop something..ha! (The MoHits connection again) The singer turned world ruler announced her pregnancy to the world. However that is not the news.
The koko of the matter is that Nigerian crooner D'bang is responsible. Yes ke! You heard it here first, how do we know? Have you listened to the 'Oliver' track? What did D'bang say about B? "I like Beyonce but she dey with jigga".. While Jay Z and Kanye were weisting away watching thrones, D'bang was showing B the koko and before we could shout 'Tongolo' they were making Good Music.. Don't believe us, wait for 9 months..if that child isn't born with a silver harmonica in its mouth, call me keLvin.

Ok, Ok… This news report was forced out of me. I don't know if I'm still on break or whether I'm back sef..

Mtscheeew…. *sigh*

Meanwhile, before you open blog on my head or diss me for this, this is NOT the news o! I can't shout! Ehen!

 

SigH

O_O *shocked*

What are you guys doing here? I mean, I didn’t tag you. How..*sigh* Ah well, who am I kidding? You subscribed, saw the link yeah?

This here is just me letting out inner steam, this post isn’t funny in any way so douse that desire and wipe that expectant grin off your face. Infact, I really don’t care if you are disappointed when you’re done reading.

You might as well stop here and leave!

I’m bored, I’m tired. Nothing excites me anymore. Not Twitter, Not Blogging, Not PS3 games, Not movies, Nothing. Zilch. Nada! Don’t ask me how or why, its not your business. Infact shebi I said you should go away?

I hate that everytime you come here you expect to read something humorous. What do I look like? A friggin’ clown? You just expect that I’m gonna succeed in making you laugh? Isn’t that what BasketMouth and his Cohorts are there for? And yes, this blog award has made it all the more demanding. I have to live up to ‘standard’. Well, guess what? I can’t! Nope!

I’ve got issues like everyone else and sometimes (like right now) I’m totally blank and no funny ideas, posts or even tweets come to mind. This blog was created as a get-away from some heart issues I was facing, I don’t know how it turned to online laughter zone ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯
I guess what I’m saying is..shit! I really don’t even know what I’m saying ‘cos I’m not writing this to pass a message to you but to release the thoughts on my inside. I salute the writers out there..the Tula’s, the Panda’s, the Afrosays, the Ada’s, the Bule’s , Mia’s, Koro’s..all of you. I respect your art. Me, I’m just tired sha…

The pressure, here, even on my paper articles..”Kelvin, where’s your article?” “This isn’t funny enough..” Mehn, I sometimes wonder if I go around with a red nose, juggling balls on a cycle..

All I want is to be me, hate me or love me..I’m bored, tired..I need a new thrill.

And if you suggest weed or women. You might as well just..ah well, fuck it. What are you still doing here?

 

RuLeS oF enGagEmenT

*Beats by Dare blaring mad sounds as this author jerks off…Lyrics playing “…My left hand weak, I put the right in”* Lord, my readers are such pervs! What were you thinking? Jerking off? Left hand? Father purge them.

Welcome guys, Men, I can’t begin to tell you how busy I’ve been/being (sideeye @ Olatoxic). I can’t claim to have writer’s block like Larry Sushey or that terror Terdoh, nah..more like writer’s burn-out, what with the recent features on @bule_jr’s “date days” and Afrosays “Decades” coupled with my weekly newspaper writing schedule and all, men I felt like a slacked pant. And so I took a lil’ break from Twitter and Blogsville for a bit. But I’m BACK! 😀 No applause? Ok, straight to why we are here.

Today guys, we are just gonna talk about the Do’s and Don’ts of Twitter Fights, Twitter Scandals And Voltronism. I was literally rolling during the last Twitter brouhaha featuring Dammiesmalls and her ‘(w)horde’. Having been in the eye of the storm myself, I just thought I’d share these with ya!

TWITTER FIGHT RULES.
1.If you’re both girls and you decide to share stories of your conquests and stupidity, please include names and handles. Whoever mentions names wins.
2.Make sure your avatar is worth looking at (after we get handles of fighters, we ALWAYS check out your picture).
3.Ensure that your spellings are correct and you don’t abbreviate. If you write like a retard, we just conclude that you are. Stuff like “yur jez a feckin gehl, I kent be ngagin yu” No! NO!!!
4.Have solid, original punch lines (things like “your brideprice is one expired sperm, you look like menstruation blood etc :D) Thank you Asabzy!
5.Do NOT delete your account afterwards. (That just makes ‘courage the cowardly dog’ more courageous than you are b!tch)
6.Aunties, if you can back up your tweets with pictures, we will definitely ‘dey your back’
7.For guys, the more intellectual your punches are, the better. (don’t tell us the size of your schlung. We don’t care)
8.Guys, it’s a chicken move to bring family members into your fights. Face the person mano-a-mano. Don’t insult their family
9.Never, NEVER google insults. NEVER!!! *tears shirt and enters sackcloth aka bag of rice*
10.Sometimes, silence does wonders! But not when you started it o!

Moving on, so I was BBming with my boy, @FreshPrinzVick and he had some things to say in addition to these, especially for the broads who are either into aristoism or are sidechics and find themselves in these fights, here are some useful points you should note:
*points in parenthesis are mine*

1.If u must shag anyone and his father, make sure they are both filthy rich. Two generation of wealthy sperm is definitely #winning. (make sure you brag about it. Add it to your Twitter bio, handle and professional CV sef).
2.Keep your medical history to yourself. Even if the V.D sounds like it should be on a breakfast menu. It can and will be used against you when the time is right. (Or when your yansh is being opened *literally)
3.If you’re a side chick or used to be one, NEVER make random discriminatory remarks about other side chicks EVEN if they try to steal your man. #Hypocrisy is a privilege granted only to S.U’s (go figure!)
4.Lastly but MOST importantly, have NO friends! You don’t want to be involved in every catfight. This is bad for business and your true value (per night) might be revealed. (you think Odina has friends?)

Thanks Vic. Incase you’re wondering how Vic knows all these, emm…he ‘was’ an Ex-whore. Oh! He blogs too at http://www.freshprinz.wordpress.com (Nigguh, u gon’ pay for this)

TWITTER SCANDALS
Unlike Twitter fights, these do not necessarily involve back and forth confrontation, But a situation where the ‘whole Twitter’ gets on your gist and you are the recipient of several subs, direct insults etc. Emmm, who can I use as example now *thinking deeply* Oh yeah! do you guys remember that chic that wrote a blogpost about her boyfriend #withAnL? You do, yeah? You don’t? ahn ahn…The one with the Ugwu leaves naw? Aha! You remember now abi? E-diots! Well, that right there was a Twitter scandal of epic proportions. Another example was the ‘somti’ issue and then the case of the leaked underwear picture 😀 Lets learn some lessons from these shall we?

1.Like Twitter fights, ensure your AVATAR is worth looking at. This is the first thing that would be checked out (good thing the Siren chic in the #withanL issue was worth looking at, if not…*sign of the cross* the guy has a big nose but I’m sure big is his default size so ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯ )
2.Do NOT try to defend yourself. It’s Twitter. We don’t want an explanation. We want the entertainment.
3.When in the spotlight, your ‘friends’ are revealed. Most will even join and yab you sef. The true ones stay true but for the snakes, (pray that their time comes too and when it does, rub the pepper in well!)
4.Make light humor out of it all. If you can laugh at yourself, the subs and/or hits won’t hurt that bad (but no lie sha, e can pain!!)
5.If you decide to engage your ‘attackers’, ensure you have the intellectual depth to do so. Be witty and smart or just shut the hell up! (Also ensure your battery is full and you have good network reception)
6.That is NOT the time to tweet stuff totally unrelated to the subject.

VOLTRONISM
There are people who will naturally come to your aid whenever sh!t hits the fan. Your team, Your ride-or-die ohon nigguhs. In Twit-lingo, we call them Voltrons. There are some rules regarding voltronism as well. We shall use the most recent fight as case study

1.The AVATAR. This point cannot be over emphasized. Did you see what became of Mr P? Did you see how quick the tables turned on him? Dude was having fun RT’ing and stuff but he ignored the number 1 rule: “Ensure that you have an avatar worth looking at.” If you don’t, remain an egg, don’t use your picture and just hush up!
2.Do not Bite more than you can chew especially if you already have a mouthful…emm, pun NOT intended 😀
3.Do not make an ASS of yourself in the voltronic process..neigh!….pun NOT intended again. 😀
4.If a spoof picture is made of/for you, do NOT use it as your avatar in an attempt to ‘laugh at yourself, it makes you look retarded!
5.Make sure the person you’re forming Voltron for knows who you are. (otherwise, we will enter you next)
6.Except you have some certain kinda levels on Twitter eg u’re a Twitter Celeb, god, Lord etc, do NOT brag about being anyone’s voltron. Most times, all you will get is a seat or Maltina.
7.The most respected Voltrons show their face in their avatars. Dem no dey fear. If u’re hiding behind pictures and stuff, you are just a puny ass coward…You ain’t no Voltron, you is a…*sigh* calm down kelvin, deep breath..

In all of this, sha remember that what goes around comes around. Let Us pray:

“Father, I pray for all that have read this post, I pray that you bless them with wisdom. I pray for all of them that subbed me and insulted me during my own time in the spotlight. Father do their own for them, make them bigger. Give them a scandal. Lord as they have laughed at others, give us reason to laugh at them afterall, your word says we should laugh with those that laugh. Let us be awake when their matter arises, let our network be good. For those seeking followers, father give them a battle-a fight, let them trend as I did. Let them feel what Mr P felt, let them feel how wande coal felt. We know its not a long thing for you to do. Thank u Lord…and the people say…

*crickets*

Ok o, emm..i’ve gotta go. Till I come your way whenever I do, its your boy. Any further advice on these issues, feel free to share. And yeah, a free BB battery for the first to comment! 😀

 

SacRiFicE

Hey guys, welcome to today’s Sunday Guest. I hope you enjoyed @cikk0’s post yesterday. Today though, we shall tone down the humour, wit and sarcasm and read something different.
Our guest marks her birth today so do well to wish her a happy birthday while commenting. Welcome with me to My scroll, @Ibetapassmynebo
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#np Elton John – Sacrifice… For some reason, My dad loves this song. Why? I don’t know. I just laugh in my mind and hope never to sacrifice my “yahuza” chicken for him…I Kent!
By the way, what you are about to read is a true life story. I don’t do fiction. I am not James Cameron…I am Amy Nwunye-Donjazzy…famzing right? I know..just like that eczema will famz with your teeth till death do you both part.

*Is the Mic on?*… August 14th…it is my birthday today and I am supposed to be partying hard right? Blowing candles, making silent wishes, tearing gift boxes right? Right! First of all, thank you KeLvin for allowing me take over your blog today. I know I am supposed to be funny and all but I am sorry because I am going to disappoint your readers! You wanna know why? Simple…. “PAY ME” *in odika baboon’s voice*…if you think it is easy to make people laugh then why do you have to pay JuLius and ALibaba (withAnL) to crack your ribs? Of course some of you would say you won’t pay such amount but buy the CD from Ejiro or you will watch it Free on HiTV…shebi u go still pay Nepa Bill?… You see nothing is free and I am not indebted to make you laugh. Even the udeme wey my papa shack when he knack my mama during the night of my conception was not free!!!

As we were, every year on my birthday I take out time to reflect on things that have occurred, my many mistakes, favors, opportunities, family, relationships, everything. Trust me, I have gone through a lot and sometimes I am tempted to question God, but I still wan go heaven, so quietly I dey mellow! I got inspired to write about “Sacrifice”. Sacrifice, (Not “EBO” ohh), i believe, is very subjective to each individual. That is; what is “sacrifice” to Lanre could mean sharing his sunday rice and chicken with John. To Henry, it could mean giving Chinelo his last 3k for her BIS. To Efe, it could be looting xmas clothes from Primark for Georgina knowing he could be deported and to Femi, it could mean using his Lunch Money to pay for Diana’s transport fee and it goes on (no it’s not who you think it is).

I grew up knowing that Jesus Christ sacrificed his life for us on the cross of calvary to pay for our sins. We also heard of those who lost their lives trying to save others drowning in recent floods, We hear of NEPA officials getting electrocuted on Electric Poles. Many would say, “I can’t kill myself for anyone oh, I can’t drink panadol for any person, I can’t give up my last yamarita for even my best friend..” yadi yadi yada… We hear you! I used to be the dean of that Faculty but something happened some years back.

I sacrificed part of my freedom, my future, my life’s blueprint, and even my destiny! I used to be a student of Uni-Ilorin. In my 4th year, I had this friend In my department and NO, we were not close but we hung out couple of times. It was time for our first semester examination and I went to collect a textbook from her when she received a call from home informing her that her “fiance” was attacked by armed robbers and shot dead on his way to meet her family to finalise wedding plans.
She was devastated, wept forever and wanted to leave school. I tried to calm her down reminding her it was our final year and the issue of extra year should never be an option. Even at that, she had a carry over course in two days.

I checked on her the next day and was told she had been admitted in the hospital. I felt really bad for her and took it upon myself to write the carry over course for her. A very stupid and risky decision I must say, but I decided to “sacrifice” everything at that time, just to give her enough time to get better.

On the day of the exam, I went in, finished up and when it was time to submit, somehow I got caught! It happened so fast but I was quick enough to shade out her matric number in order not to implicate her.
There, an exam-malpractice form was filled for me and all I could think of was the wonderful story I would tell my family and the amount of “bulala” and slaps I would receive and possible “dis-owning”.
I faced displinary panel two weeks later. I was told If I confessed who I wrote for, we would both go on suspension for a year otherwise I alone, would be rusticated. I refused to be a “RAT” so I decided to damn the consequences and serve the punishment alone. I went out, called my family one by one and reported myself. I almost lost my dad that day because he was driving when I called and he almost had an accident. I was called back in and handed my rustication letter. I tried hard to fight back the tears but sighting my friend crying, I let a drop roll down my cheeks, smiled, hugged her and wished her success in her exams and told her never to blame herself for my action!

To my surprise, my family gave me a warm welcome and promised to get me back into school that year and they did. I got admission into another Federal University barely after a month. I still kept in touch with my friend and was at her wedding in March early in the year. I graduated about a month ago with a first class ( I know…I am smart like that 🙂 ) and awaiting service!

The moral of the story- SACRIFICE. A goal-driven individual as I am, who works with time frame, never believed I would find myself in such a self-inflicted situation. I have tried using that “every disappointment is a blessing” talk but it never worked. But hey….this post would have never come up… So ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯

By the way, I am not saying you should slap your boss tomorrow at work because he was yelling at your “office P”, neither am I saying you should Jump in front of Lorry in the name of Bruno… All i am saying is that you should sacrifice your last unit on your phone and call your family and friends in England make sure they are safe and remind them on what items to loot, I am saying you should sacrifice that money for Vodka and get me a birthday gift…OK really I am just saying we should learn to stand up for the pregnant woman who clearly is heavy and has oedema, that you should give that last “baba blue” to the bus conductor, that you should let go of the “1/10” of your salary, whatever sacrifice means to you….Just do it 😀

Ps: pls sacrifice your credit and call or text me…or your time to DM me to wish me a happy birthday…I will not tolerate “HBD…LLPN…GBY” thank you.

 

TemPtaTioN

*Removes cobwebs around blog* Hey guys, yes I know I’ve been MIA. Well let’s say I’m off everything for a while. My brain haff knock. Seeing as I was absent during the week, I’m going to have two guest writers. This one and one tomorrow to make up for it 😀
This post you’re about to read is my BEST in Twisted Humor. The PUNch lines are just on point..damn. I had to beg the writer to let me share it here. Pls do not be offended by the content or the length. Its purely emm…twisted humor (lol)
Ladies, Gentlemen and Weird MC likes, its @cikk0
———————————————————–

“I may be the saviour of mankind and all, but today you breathe your last. If you actually breathe that is.” And with that, he took aim, steadied and struck.

Killing the bug on his arm instantly.

It had been a particularly awful day. The heat in these parts was beyond searing. He was hungry and parched. Being without food and water for nearly six weeks could do that to anyone. Son of God or not. Having all these awkward insects and spiky leaves for company didn’t exactly help lift those spirits. He swatted again. Today, the bug-fair must be doing a major exhibition because they were certainly out in numbers, he thought.

And to think that this was just the beginning.

“Hi.” The Messiah looked up from where he was squatting to see a smiling man.

He was dressed… differently. He wore what looked to be at least four articles of clothing: from his waist to his feet, he wore long trousers but the cut was unlike anything he’d seen before. Of similar material was a kind of dress – if he could call it that – that took care of the man from the waist up. This one had two visible buttons. And then there was a very attractive rope around his neck…

Observing Christ’s inquiring stare, the man spoke again. The texture of the man’s voice was almost sonorous and quite manly at the same time. But it somehow unnerved Christ as he spoke:

“The word you’re looking for is ‘suit.’ My name is Lewis and you’re Chris aren’t you?”

“Not Chris, CHRIST. THE Christ. Chris is the overweight kid with glasses clacking away in the background for record purposes.”

“Uh.” The Tempter showed his understanding by rolling his eyes toward some nondescript corner of the bushes where he assumed the clacking was taking place.

“So you’re SURE that you’re Christ?” Lewis inquired again. Jesus could practically taste the sarcasm. This made Him angry.

“Do you have a learning impediment or something? Did I not just say that?!!”

“Chill man, chill. No need to get all grumpy on me.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Christ started, “I forgot that going three score and four days without food or drink actually serves to lighten a man’s mood!” Lewis laughed and shook his head.

“That’s the thing,” Lewis started, “you look gaunt and hungry. I’m looking around at these little rocks…” as he said this, he gestured by opening his hands and vaguely pointing to the ground, “…and I’m thinking: If you’re THE Christ, couldn’t you feed yourself adequately by turning a few of them into, say, spaghetti?”

The question hung in the air for a second while Lewis proceeded to stare Christ down. A response wasn’t forthcoming.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Lewis offered.

“What the heck is spaghetti?!” came the bewildered retort.

“What year are we in?” Lewis asked as he looked at some object strapped around his left wrist, “Ooh. I’m coming from 2015. The Italians haven’t gone flour crazy here yet, have they? I forget. Okay then. Something more common. Can you turn these into … bread perhaps?”

“Uggh. Bread alone isn’t enough to sustain anyone.”

“Exactly. That’s why I suggested spaghetti! You should try it with meatballs and…”

“That’s not what I meant,” Christ interrupted. “I meant that there is a substance more filling than bread: the word of God.”

“Word of what? Sorry pal. Not my style.”

Christ caught sight of something,suddenly realized who his newest acquaintance really was and immediately went on the offensive: “Lewis, you’re Satan, aren’t you?”

“Hell no!”

“’HELL no?!’” Christ mocked, “We were talking about your identity not your address. Don’t change the subject. And I am sure you’re the devil.”

The Tempter was keen to hold on to every last shred of anonymity: “How come?”

The reply was quick: “Dude, it’s only 27 AD,”

“Yeah?”

“Well you’re wearing Prada!”

“Oh my, you must really be Jesus! Or how else could you know that I’m donning Prada?”

“The tag’s sticking out, dumbo.” As the Christ said this, he pointed to the cuff end of the Tempter’s left sleeve where a piece of plastic was peeking out. It was quickly yanked out and tossed away. The Tempter straightened up and tried to get on with his actual purpose.

“Well you’re mistaken. I’m not the devil. I’m a friend and I came here to cut you a deal. A great deal.”

“Why would I want to make a deal with you?”

“’Cuz we’re family, bro.” As the Tempter said this, he walked towards Christ and put his left arm across the other’s shoulder. At close quarters, Jesus found Lewis’ scent to be quite unnerving. His stomach voiced His disapproval.

“And how are we family?” the Christ inquired. His curiosity evidenced by the angle his eyebrows had curled into.

“Well, we’re both of Jewish descent.”

“Really? Who’s your daddy?” For some reason, Lewis chuckled audibly, and then answered:

“Same question Hitler asked me a few nights ago. Phew! COMPLETELY different circumstances though.” He rolled his eyes as he muttered: “Freaky bastard…”

“I beg your pardon…”

“Oh sorry. Got lost there. My dad’s name is Dong Choo Fa; D. C. Fa for short. Dad made me take his middle and last names.”

Christ broke the mini-embrace to inspect the man by his side and try to get some distance from that awful fragrance. “That’s a weird name for a Jew,”

“I’m adopted,” was the reply. And before Christ could get another word out, Lewis announced: “I want to show you something,” and snapped his fingers…

At once, they were at another locale. At the top of a cliff. Jesus looked down from where they stood and saw a tiny spot of red on the ground. “What’s that bit of red I’m seeing?” Jesus asked,

“Ah… let me see.” Lewis stretched his neck to look. ”That’s a small pond. Nothing major.”

“So no large water bodies beneath us then?”

“Nope. If any regular man falls, he’s toast. Well, mangled toast but toast anyway. But you’re not just anybody are you? You’re Jesus for Christ sakes!”

“Did you just hear yourself???”

“Hehe. I know. I’m on fire with the puns today. But my point is, your daddy has promised to send His trusty angels to catch you in case of a fall. You could actually… jump! Or you could follow me. You know, join me in a partnership!”

“You fool! You’re asking ME to choose between the Devil and a…” Jesus looked down again then continued, “…shallow red pond?!” Jesus blasted, “How dare you! You shall not tempt the Lord! Never! It’s not your place to do so, neither is it mine. His will is supreme and you best learn that it stays that way! Are we clear?!” Christ was fuming.

“Okay, okay. Calm down man. Take it easy!” Lewis pleaded. He paused for a second then exclaimed again: “Jesus!”

“What do you want now?” inquired Christ,

“I wasn’t calling you. I was cussing, man.” Instantly Lewis felt the ground tipping under him. He tried to steady himself but was helpless to stop from falling. To his knees at least. Bewildered, he looked at Christ and asked: “What was that?”

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Jesus deadpanned, “Apparently, at the sound of My name, knees tend to bow and stuff. I thought you read the Bible, Lewis?”

“Only the Old Testament mate. You’re still trying to live into the new one, remember?”

In the absence of a reply, Lewis now tried to pick himself up. As he did so, music erupted from his breast pocket.

“And what’s that?”

“A telephone,” Lewis answered. “Necessary for communicating across eras.” Lewis now pulled out a small rectangular device from his celebrated Prada suit pocket. The tune was now more audible and Lewis sang along: “Suffer suffer for world (a-men), enjoy for heaven…”

“How does that work?” Inquired the Messiah.

“I talk from this end, they hear at the other. You know what? Let me put this on speaker to demonstrate. It’s probably my agent calling about another acquisition.” He now pressed a button and spoke into the device.

“Hello. Lou speaking, can I help you?” Lewis began.

“Hi,” started the voice on the other end. Jesus could hear the voice quite clearly. “My name is John. I’m calling from the Jehovah’s Witness hotline and I’m concerned about your spiritual life.”

“Heh,” Lewis began, “and what about it?”

“I’d like to know: do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ our Lord and saviour?”It was Lewis’ turn to feel ire:

“I take offence! This lanky guy? Look, I only did Hitler a couple of nights ago cuz he asked nicely, okay? Now could you sod off please?! He’s totally not my type!” He pressed another button and the device became quiet. But Jesus wasn’t. His laughter echoed everywhere.

“What’s so funny?”

“What do you think?” Jesus had tears in His eyes. Lewis looked at his wrist again.

“Hmph. I have a business meeting about now. You might as well tag along.” Again, Lewis snapped his fingers; again, the location was altered. Now, they found themselves on a major, buzzing street. It was nighttime but visibility was perfect.

“I got tricks,” bragged Lewis, “and then some,” he continued. “Look around you,”

As Christ obeyed, his eyes were met by a daunting, glorious sight: rows and rows of buildings. Tall magnificent buildings with the shiniest, most attractive flashing lights you ever saw.

“Neat.” Offered Jesus.

“More like Vegas, baby!!!” Not altogether astonishingly, Lewis deemed it an appropriate time to put his arm around Jesus’ shoulder. As before, his fragrance tormented the Messiah enough to make His stomach turn.

“You don’t say.” A wincing Jesus croaked.

“And all yours to own and to rule forever.”

“Really? And what’s the catch?”

“Well, nothing major. Just a cursory bow to me and an acknowledgement of my awesomeness. Preferably now. Or a book deal.” He paused then added, “Like the one I’m about to do now.”

“Just like that? A curtsy? A book deal? That’s all?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Well, no. I AM Jesus you know. Besides, we all are supposed to bow to my Dad and my Dad only…” the rumbling in his abdomen became worse and Christ doubled over slightly.

“Are you alright there?” Lewis asked.

“I’ll be fine as soon as you get away from me.” Christ now found Lewis’ scent completely unbearable.

“Oh don’t be so mean. Look, here comes my client. Be nice, okay?” Looking into the distance, Christ made out the frame of an approaching woman. Lewis waved her over. Once she was close enough, Christ saw she was very heavily made up. And she wore very revealing clothes. Clearly a lady of easy virtue.

“Hello Miss,” Christ greeted.

“Hi. I Am Shagger Fierce. And you?”

“Jesus.” She was taken aback for a second then shrugged and faced Lewis.

“Hey.” Lewis chimed.

“Hey.” She replied.

“Do you have my merchandise?” Lewis asked,

“You have my money?” she countered,

“Yes.”

“Alright then, yes I do have your stuff.” She handed Lewis a hardback book. Lewis looked it over, reached into his trousers and produced an envelope.

“Cheque?” she asked,

“Always. Nice doing business! Now hobble away before you get salvation on my watch!” She left hurriedly, trying to pry open the envelope as she went.

“Ah…” exhaled Lewis, “Another satisfied client.”

“What was that about?” A bemused but still very uncomfortable Jesus asked.

“Business. She sold me exclusive rights to her book.”

“What book?” Lewis showed Jesus the front of the hardback. Emblazoned in gold were the words:

MY SOUL

By

Shagger Fierce

“I can already hear her bragging to her friends: “I sold ‘My Soul’to Lou!” Isn’t that awesome?” Lewis chirped “Why don’t you want to do business bro? I’m offering everything you can see right now. Everything! It’s like the best deal ever!”

Then Lewis heard the noise from Jesus’ stomach again. This time, it was louder and Jesus was left clutching his midsection.

“Get thee behind me Satan!” Jesus groaned.

“Why?”

“Because I need to find a toilet right now!”

“Ooh, can’t argue with you there. And if that isn’t the true definition of a ‘Holy crap’ I don’t know what is! Look, I’ll be back soon. But here, take my card.” Lewis hurriedly slipped a piece of plastic into Christ’s palm. Once he was sure that Jesus had it firmly within His grasp, he turned and peeled away.

Soon, Christ straightened up; the rumbling in His stomach suddenly gone. He read the heading of the card before throwing it away:

“LOU C. FA

Deceiver, Tempter, Snake on a Tree”

Matthew 4:11; Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him.

***********IMPORTANT***************************************

1. If you caught the Beyonce reference, it’s not evidence of any views about her beliefs. I just thought it was funny to play on those words.

2. I’m just catchin’ cruise: If e pain you, too bad…

 

BimBo!

Aloha my people. Its that time of week again where we give ‘voice’ to other writers to share stuff with us.
Today’s guest is no stranger to blogville. I made the mistake of reading his blog and ever since, I’ve been hooked. Crazily funny does no justice in describing him. He’s simply out-of-this-world. Without much ado, Ladies, Gentlemen and those sexually confused, enjoy @Terdoh

———————————————————–

First of all, before we start, I want to congratulate Oga Ke_v #WithAnL for winning the only award every blog comedian was craving for. No be small thing! He has become my sworn enemy whether he likes it or not. Yeah. That aside, I know everyone says “It’s an honor to be on such a renowned blog, I hope I can live up to expectations”, fuck that shit men! I am planning to reduce the humor bar on the blog as much as I can. Believe it or yes, by the time I am done with this post, you won’t visit this site again!!! Mark my words!

(Insert my score here abeg)

Okay, on to the boring post.

I. Love. Dumb. Girls! INSTANT TURNON!!!!!
Okay. *pauses to focus on growing erection*
What (or who, in this case) is a dumb girl? A dumb girl, or Bimbo, is a creative piece of art strategically placed on the surface of God’s lovely earth to enable any member of the male homo sapien species, who possess any minute form of brain power, effectively reproduce, replenish and fill the earth.
Definition toh behd yo! Did it myself! *shines golden tooth*

Yes, so we have defined a Bimbo as a very attractive woman who is thick in the skull. That is not all. She has to have loose morals. When I say loose, I mean LOOSE, like Yar’ Adua’s hold on the presidential seat. Rest In Peace soul brava.
Now, lemme go straight to the point, I absolutely love dumbos! They drive me crazy! Nuts! *no pun intended* A lot of people went hard in the “What men want” era, *side eye at Kelvin* and I found myself asking, do men really (REALLY) want a smart chick?

Really?

Smart chicks are hard to fool. And possessive smart chicks are the average guy’s worst nightmare! “Where were you? What have you been doing? Who were you with? I recorded all your phone conversations on my iPad, and I know who you’ve been talking to. I called Jay, and he said he hasn’t seen you all day. I left cameras in your office, you weren’t there. Don’t lie to me! I know when you’re lying! Your pupils dilate and your heart beats at the rate of 324 times every 90 seconds. And I crosschecked your call log. You said you tried my number and it wasn’t going? Well, I can’t see my number in there!”
Meanwhile, a brother just went to have shayo with the boys for the first time in 2 years.

You really don’t want that.

You want a dumb chick, a bimbo, a Barbie bimbo that goes with the trend and gets impressed when you string incoherent lengthy English words together and get on your Patrick Obahiagbon flow.
Trust me you do. Personal experience talking here.
I went out with this Somalian goddess of light once. She was lovely! Face like two goddesses had lesbian sex and produced her, body like an hour glass that was designed by the Sun god Ra himself, and the best part, was that I could bet that her IQ was negative. Dumber than a blonde that couldn’t speak!
I loved her.
We used to have fun going to various places; beaches, parks, and museums. Oh! Museums! I would get kicks off making my own explanation for different works of art and would mentally climax each time she went “You’re so smart! You know everything!”
One terrible, fateful day, we were texting and she saw the word “Schizophrenia” as my bbm status, and she asked me why it was my bbm stat. I said I thought I was coming down with it owing to the incomprehensible scribbling at the back of my notepad. She said it was not plausible, as schizophrenic patients don’t know that they have schizophrenia.

I was devastated! She used the word ‘plausible’!!

She had become smart!! Overnight? Nooo!!! We broke up two days (and two smart explanations) after. I lost that jewel. Painful shit I tell ya.
Dumb chicks do this thing to me that I don’t understand. They make me cum quicker. No be joke. Sexy, thick-cranium-possessing babes are an instant turn on. I notice them and I go gaga. A babe that I have to explain every joke to, a babe that I can lie to and get away with, a babe that thinks Insomnia is an Asian country, a babe I can practice my blank stare on, a ‘Barbie’.
I like my shawties block headed and proud of it!

I think that’s the end. I hope you were annoyed by the post. Remember not to visit this blog again, or you will see more posts like this, or worse!

You have been warned.

DisCLAIMER:
I mean everything I have said in this post! I don’t joke with my emotions. If you are a lovely bimbo and you have read up to this point, and in the back of your head, you’re going “I really fit the criteria, don’t I?” then please call this number 07036283749. Flash me till I don’t pick. :D. As usual, spell checking is for dummies, and all gbagauns are not mine. Please return them to their owners. Thank you.

Read more of @Terdoh’s stuff at http://www.terdoh.wordpress.com

 

In The NewS

Good Morning/ Afternoon/ Evening
Welcome to the news round up.
Here are the headlines…

Scandal surrounding status of popular Twitter big girl.
Big Bother ends
Musician Ice Fish falls down the scales
Weather changes observed as we enter ‘leaking’ season
And in style and entertainment,
We tell you how to match your underwear.

And now the details…

Popular Twitter Business woman and share holder at Slut, Ordinary baby came out with a shocking revelation indicating that she is pregnant. Being a heavy pill to swallow, we caught up with her at Oniru bitch and engaged her in a quickie. Here are excerpts:

“Swallow o! You must swallow! Shebi you’re always swallowing on my TL oya..come, don’t bite me o!” #MoneyCannotWaste
“I can’t swallow juh, I’m pregnant!”
“Pre-gini? *kini goes limp* ah! Who’s the father?”
“Legion! For they are many” (thanks chinnydiva) *wink*
“Odina, you read the bible?”
“No o! It was father francis that made me recite that during a counsellng session we had while he pounded me from behind!”
“So are you going to remove it?”
“Remove ke? I pray its a girl, she will join the business. I can’t afford staff now so..”

We wish Ordinary baby a safe deliverance, sorry delivery.

91 days of Pain, Torture, Laughter and Tears has finally come to an end as the curtains are drawn on Big Bother. The show ended on a high with a Nigerian yet again carting away the star prize of $200,000. Reports reaching us indicate that the organisers realised at the inception that Nigeria will definitely win the moola (9ja no dey carry last) and so decided to have two winners hence the emergence of Mr WhenDull.
There are lessons to be learnt and here are some of them as sent in by correspondent @stephHailey through a friggin’ BBM BC.

1. Shit happens (The result) :O
2. Virginity still has great rewards (Wendell) 🙂 3. Dying your hair doesn’t win shit (Lomwe) =))
4. Too much ‘fonee’ no dey bring bar (Vina) =))
5. Over-confidence dey dull man (Sharon o) 😐
6.. Yam-leg na dullin (Vina) =D
7. Wearing your bathrobe at the final changes results (Luclay)
8. Plastic rules (Karen)
9. Nigerians too vote..ahn ahn!!!=))

Moving on to entertainment, Rapper Ice Fish recently toppled down the scales of respect and admiration as he single handedly ‘fell his hand’ (how does tha( even work when you’re single handed? ¯\..(•͡.̮ •͡ )../¯ ). Apparently bored and lonely (as MI dey yankee), the rapper came up with his own competition, towing the line of DonbubbaJay’s ‘Enigma’. Dubbed ‘EssayGma’, the cool rapper asked his ‘fans’ to write an essay on “why I love Ice Fish” and stand a chance of winning a BB 9800. As at the time of filing this report, we hear that nobody is ‘feeling the boy’ as his e-mail inbox still reads ‘0’. Talk of a choc boy gradually becoming a chalk boy- †☁DEAD☁†

In weather reports, a special breeze is blowing across the land. This breeze generally referred to as ‘owu’ is that which is responsible for opening fowl yansh/nyash (whatever). This ushers in leaking season. Our correspondents gather that Nigerian songstress Tiwa Savage was just hit by this ‘owu’ as her email a/c was hacked into and songs from her yet-to-be-released album leaked.
Two questions for Tiwa though (Tiwa means ‘our own’ in yoruba by the way)
1. Is she sure the savages that did this aren’t part of her household, afterall what is hers is ‘our own’ too?
2.Where the hell are the leaked songs naw? Or are they that bad?

Finally, we share with you some style secrets as learnt on Twitter. In this season of P setting where ‘less is more’, its necessary we know how to wear our underwear. Whether or not colours match or the material is similar, the key to a power underwear look is CONFIDENCE! If you can boldly snap a picture in your underwear and share it, then that right there is Winning!
Emmm….don’t give your ‘hey! I’m wearing underwear’ pictures to a boy, he will lick, sorry leak it.

Oh finally finally, here are some recent additions to our lingua.
Ordersity > Audacity
Shredding tears > shedding tears
Orange Jews > Orange juice
Sower > Sour
Umbeyonce > Ambience
Areance > Arrears

Maltina didn’t sponsor this episode so it might be till two weeks time before you get another news broadcast. Don’t ask me. It wasn’t my idea.