BroKe BlokeS

Hey Guys, its been a minute…yeah, thing is I’m neckdeep in my certification exams this month and its crayzee. Its not beans trying to balance all that I have on my plate at the moment. Please bear with me. I couldn’t stay away totally though for the love of y’all, so I’ve contacted a couple of blogger friends of mine who will keep the blog rolling in my ‘absence’ I hope you find them as interesting as I do. Today we shall enjoy from one of my ladies. She’s @MsCantFindAname on Twitter…

Oh! By the way, nominations for the Nigerian Blog awards are on going. Pls visit http://www.nigerianblogawards.com/register.php and nominate me using the blog address https://kevinwithanl.wordpress.com/ Don’t forget to also nominate your other favorite bloggers in other categories as well…(Yeah, I’m nice like that)
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Hello folks. The name is Bee. When Kelvin told me he’d been considering me guest-writing on his blog, I wondered if there was anything wrong with him. I mean we all know him as that dude with one or two bolts out of place but to leave me in charge of his audience for a day, even my mother would question that decision. But hey, it’s been finalised, he can’t back-track now. Besides, who wouldn’t jump at the chance? I feel honoured to be here, at the service of you beautiful folks, and the not-so-beautiful ones too.all join!! So here goes.

Money they say is the root of all evil. I say money is.umm.actually I have no deep philosophical adage to coin here besides that without money, you are pretty screwed mate! Money is good. I love money, you should too. There’s no greater feeling than walking into a mall and just picking items off the railings without looking at the price tag. I mean, forget that you are broke for a second and just picture it. I trust my naija peepz – oppression galore.

Only people destined to be broke throughout their lifetime say such dumb things as ‘money is not everything’. I for one can never date a broke guy in my life.ever again. Oh yes, I’ve done it before. The old tale of love. The Jack and Jill syndrome. But Jack and Jill though? Did those two date? They weren’t siblings were they? They could have been you know. Hmm.some incestual goings-on in that nursery rhyme none of us ever noticed. You see, you learn everyday.You are welcome!

Moving on.

What I’ve noticed is that a lot of broke guys swear by MI’s One Naira. Some have gone as far as making the ‘.whether na one naira, whether na one million, baby you got me’ line their anthem. That’s how you know the ones that won’t be going far in life. One million though? Is that all you aspire to? In naira again, can you imagine? Four thousand pounds pere! That won’t make me milk in my panties honey! You gotta aim higher mehn. You gotta famz with USD, GBP, JPY – although they all sound like abbreviations of venereal diseases but these letters rule the world. Tell me, how do you expect people to take you serious when you’ve never seen dollars before? And err.no, $1 notes don’t apply here!

Yes, I’d never in my life date a broke guy ever again. If you are asking me out, I need your account statements for the past 3 months to shortlist your application before even going though the rigorous accent screening. I may be coming across as a bitch but giving a fxck is the least of my priorities right now. Seriously, there’s gotta be a law which requires broke men to never live among the regular lot. If you’re approaching a lady, respect yourself and deal within your means. If you approach a Bose or Chinwe, chances are you’d get an easy ride. But Beckys and Debbies? Even you gotta pay just to form association with those names. Bose/Chinwe can ask you credit for her Alcatel OT222 but Debbie has to know that the iPad2 is one of your least expensive toys at the moment. Bose may be cool with your ‘o samo’ lingo but if you as much as omit the words ‘finna’ and ‘innit’ from your vocabulary in your wooing speech to Becky, just terminate yourself. No chance in hell bro!

What I find so laughable is when people compare suitors to one’s father. Just because I asked that he be driving at the least, a 2009 model of any car, reside in a house which has a minimum of three bedrooms, preferably in the SW London area, a very healthy account balance and a Royal Bank of Scotland ‘Black Card’ credit card and I’ve been deemed a gold digger. ‘Is he your father?’ I hear them ask. But my father’s not trying to get in my pants, is he? Well, I can assure you he’s not. If that makes me a gold digger, then yeah lemme dig away. I’d rather you tell me you’re cheating on me after an expensive 3-course meal at The Savoy or that’s it over after my three-week trip through the Swiss Alps. Tell me you don’t love me anymore after you’ve signed that car to my name and I won’t even as much as flinch. Have a good life, I’d tell you. But that I’d hop on these grimy London buses with you, put up with numerous McDonald’s dates, most of which you paid for with vouchers, be stricken down with Pneumonia because you couldn’t afford heating in your tiny studio apartment in Kidbrooke and then be dumped for something that looks like what even Amadioha would reject as sacrifice, is stupid on my part. Never again. Thank you very much Ade!

You men gotta wake up and smell the coffee. We women love money. Don’t mention love, it’s got nothing to do with this. Thank you Tina Turner. We love spending. We love rubbing it in our friends’ faces when we get something we know they’d love to behold. Don’t come at me if you know you can’t live up to my expectations. Some call them unrealistic, I tell them to go find a cow in heat and make it happy. I’m a girl that takes pride in her appearance. My grooming bills are high but hey, these firm butts don’t come cheap. You’d like to squeeze them, right? Grope the righteousness out of them innit? Same way I feel about that bulge in your trousers. Go on, take it out, let’s have a look.the wallet, not the.ermm.tool!

I cannot work hard to look this good and you’ll just come and reap the benefits and walk away with your oblong head intact.no way Jose! You say you want a woman that looks good but you don’t want to pay for sh*t – any chance you might be high? As Yoruba people say, ‘obe to dun, owo lo pa’. Translation – a thick delicious soup has dollar signs swimming in it. You want something good, you gotta pay for it. No Pay, No Lay. I know that sounds like the service policy of a registered ‘adult-leisure’ company but really though, can you enjoy an excellent ‘service’ in good conscience knowing that you never ‘enhanced’ it in any way? You can? Really? Selfish git!

Broke guys? I laugh in Swahili at those two words. Some of them are brave though, as in you just gotta respect their hustle. Only a brave broke guy will make an elaborate effort to hide his empty-wallet condition by attempting to make you dinner at home so he doesn’t have to take you out to a paid one. He serves you what he calls ‘Le Garria la Vivre’ which you find has a very distinct flavour. He tells you not to worry, it’s an acquired taste, he says. A closer inspection of the dish and you realise the buffoon just served you a 4-day old eba, garnished poorly. Garria though?? Kunle, I curse you every time I remember this incident. May you never again experience the joy of morning wood.

I did not come here to laden my sob stories on you. Rather, I want to educate my fellow boob-carriers in the house. Girls, forget love, it doesn’t do sh*t. Your honey pot is your power house. With that, you can compel even the world’s most powerful to bend to your wishes. But gawk not, not every girl has that golden triangle that can disengage a man’s brain from the rest of his anatomy. That’s achievable though, but that’s one for another time.

It’s been lovely infiltrating your cranial box for the past couple of minutes. Again, you’re welcome. See you soon! Signing out.peace!!