*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,”


“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,


“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:



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.


“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:


Deceiver, Tempter, Snake on a Tree”

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


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…


Posted by on August 13, 2011 in FicKtioN



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?


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.

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


Posted by on August 7, 2011 in SunDaY GuEsT


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.


Posted by on August 4, 2011 in News RoundUp


My MuSic PlaYeR

Hey People, in continuation of our Sunday Guest Category, we have the pleasure of reading a random piece from one of my guys. Kinda a deviation from the typical humour we see on here but in my opinion creative nonetheless.
Remember though, sundays are for Guest writers on here. If you feel you wanna take the plunge and put your GOOD stuff out there, do hola at me, yeah?
In the meantime, enjoy @nugwatweets’ music shuffle and his interpretation of the songs!

Its 10p.m,Sitting at home eating oatmeal cookies (ben and jerry’s aint got nothing on this) Watching TV, well I was…now I’m typing…Warning… this will be incoherent…*pours a glass of Starmont Chardonnay*Say what? It’s cheap? Waka…*plugs in earpiece*

Hate to know what’s coming on next… kills the buzz when I do…I’m weird ☺…*Selects Random* Songs determine my mood…*sighs*

Five for fighting – Its not easy to be me,
Gidi-born, gidi bred, naija buttered… growing up was fun… Never knew my dad much… he travelled around a lot, years on end. My mum was everything. That was a conscious effort, because making sure your kids lacked nothing even without their father was no mean feat… civil servants don’t get paid much. No pity party here, kids with New York and Manchester as 3rd term holiday destinations weren’t asking for pity.*sips from wine-glass*
It’s unlike me to be home on a Saturday night…my crazy cousins must have somewhere to drag me to… sometimes I go myself… Preferred spot is crystal lounge. It’s classy and still has lotsa Nigerians… But why do naija guys think a fat white chick gives you swag? Cuz she’s white? *spits*.  A topic for another day.I’m an introvert, and an extrovert… Can’t decide. Living alone doesn’t help. My sister visits once in a while. The campus is her more permanent abode. So solitude gives me time to think, and the thoughts become more twisted with each episode. I’m not forming “dark and mysterious”.Don’t even want that.

BEZ – Stop pretending.
Much better song…Well not really, because the message shows me how much of a façade my life is right now. From the outside, He’s a young, driven lad with a bright future. Good job, Nice car, lives in the Upscale Downtown area… (no pun intended)
Bullshit…Not because it’s not true but because it feels nothing like it looks…Working a nine to five isn’t my thing… I just know I’m supposed to be doing something else… don’t know what… but till I find out what, that space remains empty… and emptiness hurts, cuz every ticking of the clock feels like I died, and it’s not death that scares me… *faint smile*… Its dying unknown. Not talking about fame. F*ck that. I’m talking about not making an impact.*Bites a sugar frosted Bagel, wipes fingers clean*

The Game ft lil wayne – My life
What on earth did my Tablet smoke this evening? So so sad songs… Mpstcheeeew…Anywho, Just like lil wayne asked “why hasn’t He taken my life?” Probably cuz there’s something I’m still to do… I’d be damned if I stay in the cooperate rat race for the better part of my youth. Probably why I’m quitting my job next month. I just have to jump… can’t stand here, I’m jumping. Mum’ll scream when I tell her, well, IF I tell her. She won’t understand, you probably don’t. Don’t blame you. But the destinies that ride on me call me… and I have to go…The breaking point was when my aunt died last month, I know she’s with God now but the question is if that was me would He be happy with me? Get the feeling he wouldn’t. Because there’s something untapped in me that’s not for me… it’s for my family, friends and country, and it’s gotta come out.

Brooke Fraser – Something in the water.
Finally!!! A happy song! This tablet needs deliverance sha…So my brother is coming next week. Uber cool! And he’s bringing kilichi! How I miss kilichi… *sighs… throws away bagel*… I never knew you could bring that here without it being seized, till my cousin brought some last month when she returned from the burial. See grown men fighting for meat! Still have the scar from when Kaycee punched me after I used my right hand to pack the bulk of the meat and run into the toilet… And this chick I’ve been eyeing was there o… cousins friend… Sexy like mad… naija babe born and bred here. She actually asked me (when we were much younger) if Africans actually live on trees… God punish yankee media.On the flip side, I promised to take her lion hunting when she visits naija next year for the first time… *dodges slippers*

Mali Music – Yahweh
Ah… my song… All the glory belongs to HIM… true…I’m a spiritual being… sometimes in the office or on the road, I catch myself taking to God… at least I hope it’s Him. For someone who rationalizes a lot of things I’ve asked myself a lot of questions. Questions that shake the foundations of the faith of my upbringing. I’ll share a common one. Does God exist? I answer this via the elimination method. Atheists believe two atoms collided spontaneously and a continual explosion created all we see… That only shows one thing… ATHEISTS HAVE FAITH. Because it takes as much faith to believe this as it does to believe that a virgin conceived. And if I have to believe something, it’s that There’s a God who loves me and wants the best for me and when I die, I’ll be with Him. End of Discussion.

Naeto C – 5 and 6Love song
Me I’m not into all that love crap… used to be… long story. Let’s just say I realized that not everyone is worth your time. But when I hear this song, I catch myself hoping. All girls can’t be bitches… God can’t be that heartless. But when you are Vidic (5) and your (6) is squillachi, I pity you. (football fans understand this). And when every other “6” looks like Yobo against man u in 2006, (through pass to rooney), I’d rather defend alone. But jokes aside tho’ I know she’s out there… and our defensive partnership will be one toh quality!*Switches off media player*

It’s your boy @nugwatweets, Thanks to @kevinwithanL for the feature. Loved it? Hate it? Use the comment box. I’m out


Posted by on July 31, 2011 in SunDaY GuEsT


iN thE NewS

Good Morning/ Afternoon/ Evening.
Welcome to the Twitter news at 7. Here are the headlines:
New vocabulary added to the English Language.
Popular Musician dies.
Twitter Oracle releases plans for Amnesty Programme.
Enigma mania grabs Nigeria And in Style…
We look at what went wrong at the Harsh party.
And now the details…

Language, like change, is a constant variable and this is evident daily as new words spring up and seemingly find their way to our everyday vocabulary. This has been evident in the month of July as lots of words have surfaced and subsequently submerged their predecessors. If you are still using words like superstar, mermaid, hills, self esteem etc then you are so old school and you really need that Upgrade that Beyoncé so generously offered. These words amongst others have been replaced thus:
Superstar—> Soup or Star
Mermaid—-> Marmade
Hills—> heels (interchange at will)
Self Esteem—> selves of steam
Finna—> (I still don’t get this one, sounds really retarded to me)
Do well to inculcate this into your lingo and avoid carrying last.

Popular musician, Emily Wineshack dies mysteriously. As usual, lots of theories surrounding the circumstances of her death have risen. Some say she was on her way to popular club in Lagos ‘rehab’ when she met rapper Overdose, There was ‘a diction’ misunderstanding and then in the scuffle that ensued, she inhaled her last breath…(Bollocks) …Another school of little thought says she decided to go underground for a while, ended up in the cellar of her house and like her surname shows, that wasn’t a safe place to be!
We join millions of people on Twitter and BBM who knew her all of a sudden and we say RIP sister Emily.

Public Enemy no 1 on Twitter, Mazi Oracle has done it again. Information reaching us indicate that this potential father who gets off while engaging 19 year old girls in Tweetfights has instituted a new programme. This program called TAP (Twitter Amnesty Programme) is aimed at granting pardon to some people he had previously blocked!
Ok! Hold it jare! What is it sef? This thing is entering this dude’s head too much. first he torments us with dumb ass questions on the regular, then his brain touches and he tweets dumber ‘facts’ gotten from his left toe, and then regularly ‘fights’ with girls but keeps mute when guys get at him…aaarrrggh *pulling imaginary hair out* taps chest, All iz vell, All iz vell*
But ‘TAP’ though? Someone better tell this dude to stop taking Twitter too seriously and concentrate on the job we hear he has. Or he should just apply to Twitter to be Nigerian branch president. TF!!! TAP my ass! Literally o!

Nigerians woke up on one day like that to the gist of a $2000 prize for anyone who can drop the tightest rap on the Enigma beat dropped by none other than producer extraodina-BabaJay (no free adverts here). As the news spread like Sharon stone’s legs in Basic instinct, every Obinna, Mufutau and Taofeek ‘jumped on the beat’ and attempted to churn out a masterpiece. The aftermath has been amazing ranging from classic WOW’s to the downright ‘#UdonMeanIt’. Some people sha, God will forgive you for the links you tweeted. If Shouting is your idea of rap, then our bus conductors are madly Talented. Yes! This is a news sub!
As for Vic-O, Why? #ThatIsAll
However, here is a sample of my favorite so far, its by @DaviDamage Listen, be blessed and be illuminated

In style and entertainment, we wanted to bring you pictures of the Harsh party that went down recently in the city of Lagos. However, we did not want to be responsible for the images that could ruin your belief in the youth and their fashion sense.
We had superman visit (never knew he was black), we had university bastards in attendance, girls dressed as their favorite food (wrapped moin moin), sweaters and knee high boots (I’m guessing just incase there was a flood) boys in cropped pants looking all gay and shiii, and the oracle even graced the human event.

Maybe it was the red carpet concept that disillusioned many as the outfits are better seen than explained. Check out the pictures here

And that has been the newsround this hour, be sure to visit your Timeline often for more Breaking News and Trends. As long as the lord is on the ‘thrown’ we will do our best to keep you abreast.
This broadcast was brought to you by Maltina..My name is @KevinWithanL

If you have any latest words we can add to the dictionary, please use the comment box to share. Additional news snippets are also welcome.


Posted by on July 28, 2011 in RantDom


ChiCkeN Run

A great day to y’ the little way I can, I try to afford some talented people an opportunity to express themselves on here. I’m sorry if you came expecting to read something from me. Let me just say that each week (sundays most likely), I’ll feature at least ONE guest blogger…Today, a lady. Her handle is @mohmahmee.

Before I start this piece,I should inform you first hand that I’m NOT a WRITER. I’m too lazy for that. In as much as I have a lot of deep thoughts dancing in my head begging for release with a pen, I’d like to leave them that way.

So I managed…..eventually to get off my lazy butt and write something, anything. My motivation being that my handwriting is taking the downward spiral…..quickly too. I mean who wears glasses to read their own handwriting please!!?!?

So I decided to write a story about an experience I had with a chicken. Ok that was the cue to slam your phone in disappointment.
Oh well*shrugs*
*tales by moonlight story mode activated*(change outfit to wrapper tied around my neck. oh wait that’s for boys right?what d hell,I make anything look sexy..heehee)

This is a scarring story with scenes of animal violence and blood. The faint hearted can back out now. I almost passed out when it happened so I won’t judge. Well, then again I was 10 so I might still judge…..

Okay,so the time was christmas. The day was actually christmas eve.
All the murderers had gone out and by murderers I mean my mum and my aunt.
My mum had gone out to do last minute shopping and my aunt had gone to make her hair.
My mum had assigned ‘christmas’ chores to me and my sister. You know those chores that your mother subtly threatens you with and makes it look like christmas was hanging by dat one chore and if you didn’t do it,christmas might actually not ‘hold’ dat year?…..yea those chores.
We had finished them and because my 10yr old girl memory is failing me at the moment and I don’t recall everything,I’d say knowing how vain my sister is, she was probably trying on her christmas dress for the umpteenth time and rehearsing her grand entrance into the church in my parents room and me,well I was devising a means to eating everything and not getting full fast(what!!cut me some slack mehn, I was 10. My apologies if I wasn’t reeking of spirituality and sober reflection on the ‘true meaning’ of christmas).

My dad called us. I imagine the tone of his voice would have automatically distorted my delicious reverie as I jump down from my double bunk bed(best believe I still sleep in that bed till now. No,I’m not shitting you)
His next words begin our scarring story. “Get that hot water,grab a basin and knife, we’re going to kill the christmas chicken”

You’re probably thinking what can possibly go wrong? A coupla kids under the adult supervision of their dad killing the chicken for christmas. If anything, this should be cute.
Yea, it would be cute and all…till you know the ‘killing team’

Character summary
My dad
My dad is a loving,caring,dedicated man…….yea and he’s also a WUSS!
He never participates in any killing of any sort. Rats always had a field day with him around. However, he will be more than happy to motivate whoever is willing to do the honours with words of encouragement and the exact location of the rat.
Everything like the character ‘my dad’ except the fact that I don’t kill and I don’t even watch. I just sit in the corner with my feet up and scream and sometimes break into an uncontrollable fit of inexplicable tears.
My younger sister
Murderer wannabe.

Yea so you now see why this was a wrong idea. I was about to look at my sister and tell her with my eyes how this was such a terrible idea just to see she was as happy as a reindeer and my dad was her santa. My dad just looked at me with a look that said: “fear fear girl,my friend grow some balls”. Well, I did say it was a look. We do a lot of ‘looks’ in my family

My dad boldly went into the store to get the chicken. We followed. He bent to pick the chicken, the chicken freaked,my dad backed out. He nervously smiled and said was: “Ahn ahn,this chicken is quite strong oo”. I gave him a look that said: “seriously, strong? There’s no other word in d world. You weigh an entire forest of chickens and this one is suddenly the king spartan of their tribe!”. “Take it downstairs” my dad said.
We went downstairs and my sister was already set with the knife and the chicken. I was with the basin and the hot water.

He held the chicken down, my sister assisted not because she was asked to, just because she could almost see herself gisting my mum excitedly on how she had earned her place as a ‘killer’ too. All the while,she still had that silly gleam in her eyes. Me, well I was making sure my safe running space was clear at all times.
Infact now that I think about it,I don’t even know why I was summoned on this wife-impressing mission. I was just as useful as the basin in the whole frenzy!

Now,the rest of the events that occur from this point is a blur.
My dad poured a little hot water on the chicken,I think that was his ‘anaesthetic’ to weaken the chicken. My sister held it down. They both looked so serious like they knew what they were doing. Bollocks!!! I wasn’t falling for that bullshit. My running space was still clear.
My dad put the knife in its throat, but couldn’t quite hit the kill button. Chicken panicked. Blood splattered. My dad freaked and let it go. My sister freaked and let it go and well, that stupid gleam was finally gone. That was my cue to run for a diamond medal!

In a heartbeat, our chicken was running with a slightly cut neck out of the building.
My brain froze but in all the brain freeze there was still a little transmission that came into the walkie talkie “that’s our christmas chicken running out of the building! Over!!”
Now I wasn’t really afraid that if it ran out and mixed with other white chickens it would be lost forever and we wouldn’t know ours. I trusted that a particular ‘special’ chicken with a dangling neck would be hard to miss anyday. It was just that my dad, the person to save the day looked like he’d just seen a ghost . Once again I gave him a look “even if this thought for some weird reason crosses your mind ever again,don’t involve me EVER, we can bond with something else!”
My sister was already out chasing it. A guy that lived in my neighbourhood and knew us saw her chasing this ‘thing’ that closely resembled a chicken.

Poor guy,God bless his soul saved christmas by the friggin’ bell!
He picked the chicken with such expertise took it back in,killed it properly,even helped us take out the feathers. The scene looked familiar. OH YEA!! That was how the pros did it dammit!
Much later, the murderers came back, they all expressed their shock and demanded to know who the new ‘hit man’ was. My sister gave them an ‘education’ of the story,gesticulating at intervals.

My mum dryly turned to my dad finally and said “but, who sent you?” Then she broke down and started laughing.
Till this day, I always prefer we do frozen chicken. My mum says there’s a difference, I say YI-to-tha-fucking-MU! Frozen chicken any day mehn.
My dad still looks for stuff to bond with. Less life threatening events anyway..thankfully. Like watching super-story together. I rebelled by making him watch ‘friends’. Nowadays, we just sit and talk.

My hands are bleeding from writing all this and at the time of writing this,I’m making a mental note to buy that book from nursery school with red and blue lines for my handwriting

Thanks for reading and I’m grateful kelvin let me guest blog. please comment and go easy on me abeg, its my first time. Do share scarring experiences too.


Posted by on July 24, 2011 in SunDaY GuEsT


BurN afTer ReAdinG

Ha! Did this Twitter message bring you here: “The Post you are about to read shall be up for only 3 hours after which it shall be subsequently taken down! Enough said.RT for general good ”
If it did, first tell youself “I’m a gbeborun”, second, applaud my “get them to read tactics”, third, it feels like April 1st all over again innit? Buhahaha…

Anyways, great to have you here again. The piece below ought to have come up on saturday but well…I wasn’t done and 2. I was ‘moved’ to do the ‘Winning’ post based on the blog awards thingy. Here’s thanking everyone who voted and made this possible. Y’all rock…here we go then…

“Water, e no get enemy!” Famous lyrics of a very famous song! However, recent occurrences have caused me to wonder about the truth in these words. Am I saying that the famous Fela was a false prophet? NO!! I just don’t know any fella called Prophet Fela…do you? I thought not!

So, it was a Sunday morning and as early as 6am, the heavens began to weep! What started off as just normal sobs eventually turned out to be something akin to a Mushin raised child crying because he stole meat from the pot that morning, was caught and was told the dreaded words: “Wait till your father gets back!” You know that feeling right? When you know your father will beat the hell out of you and the thought of it makes you cry from the moment you hear it till the moment he walks in! Yup that’s how the rain ‘cried’ all day.

It didn’t even help that it was a Sunday and church choirs couldn’t just decide to be smart…they decided to go ‘with the flow’, singing songs like “Open the Floodgates of heaven”, ‘Let the rain of your presence fall”, “Showers of blessings” amongst others…As the rains increased, I’m sure these choristers must have felt ‘at sea’ with the effect they had made. However, I doubt even their faith could have prepared them for what lay ahead.



Yeah, we’ll get back to Sunday but let’s review the events of epic Saturday, shall we? The saturday when a certain blogPost shook the foundations of the Twitter community..For those of you last carriers who didn’t get to read it, fear not! Its not deleted, its privatised. Once we get sponsors, we’ll put it out again (and wow,, them voltrons went in hard on the comments I’ve been asked for my side of d story too often, what’s here is an abridged summary though..

Woke up in the morning and I get off my feet, say a Thank you prayer and I grabbed my phone to tweet…(lyrics fail me here).. .moving on… then I saw the subs…Ha!!! They were like missiles from left, right and center..”…sore Loser withanL” WOW! This is what Libya must feel like, I thought to myself. So I walked to the dining area and settled to breakfast, scrolled through my TL and took it all in with a pinch of salt…lol. Them subs kept coming and now even more directly.”Na me be this? Oh Lawdy Lawd!”. Here’s the thing yeah?

“Power isn’t determined by how hard you hit when pushed to the wall, but how well you can refrain from hitting!”

Let’s just say that I could be a good power horse advertiser..haha! Through all the insults and abuse, my concern was for Slim and how she must be handling it, oh! She was strong through it all, though she almost cracked and wanted to respond at some point! (Me too sef) to admit that some things written in the post could have been avoided (no doubt) but I ain’t/wasn’t gonna cower and leave her to herself. HECK NO!!! (But mehn, you guys can yab sha! I mean from whence came all the creativity?) Some people who hardly tweet became all so vocal, it was really nice to see..Kai! There were some who changed handles! Jeez!! I was too slow, woulda claimed ’em!!
Oh! It was a good day, I got calls from strangers, some applauding, some threatening, one revealing *wink*, Pings every second, my blog had its highest visit count ever 3241 in a day and she had 5425 at last count. More people subscribed, and as is common in cases like this, follower count increased..S/O to all new followers..God go make you Bigger!

Unfortunately for me, my battery ‘died’ at about 1pm (curse you BB!) and I missed out..i returned much later after charging to see that #WithAnL was trending…yay! Me!!! It wasn’t just trending in lagos, it was trending WORLDWIDE (Check for details)…haha. I wonder if this was what the Bible meant when it said “your name will go places your feet haven’t” (paraphrased). While all this was going on, my ‘boys’ were eating at some wedding reception (weldone o! Vic, Femi and Toks) , my own voltrons were missing, basically non-existent (please how can I recruit voltrons? Pls apply within abeg). Slim and I felt like Bonnie n’ was “we against the Tworld” and the Tworld seemed to be winning *sniffs* S/O to @SamanthaSiren for having our backs though!

Anyways sha, there were lessons learnt, friends, haters and enemies revealed. yeah! I see you…the most painful was when someone who I considered a ‘friend’ took so much pleasure in cc-ing me into some particular tweets and subbing the shit outta me! (Yeah you) E pain! I no go lie!!! I’m off that though but the ‘friendship?’…nah, don’t think its worth it!

Anyway, like every other Twitter issue, we are on to the next one! And oh! The theories that arose were just hilarious..PS: My post ‘SERIOUSLY 1 and 2’ has NOTHING to do with TPN.


So, the rains poured down all day and the whole of VI looked like the scenery for TITANIC 2. I’m like WTF? (What tha flood?) Someone had asked “God why?” and I wonder if God was thinking, “if I could just find one Noah in VI to build an ark”… but do you know anyone by the name Noah in this time and age? My thoughts exactly! Its funny though cos while many were stranded as a result of the floods, many others in the comfort of their homes were making good use of the weather! S/O to the kids that will be born on April 20th 2012. Me I was at GET Arena literally chilling with my boys (@freshPrinzVick, MallamSawyerr, OlaToxic and jonNeski), girls (stephHailey, d3ola, boukkieO) and my girl (Slim))…Details of this ‘adventure’ coming to a blog near you (not mine!)

Life is funny you know. Somehow, disorganization seems to reveal who we really are. Guys, if you want to know that chic for real, wait till she’s in a messy situation. I saw chics who normally will strike me as those that never fart or eat beans and stuff. You know them now, they’re all over The palms…yeah! Those heel wearing, cat walking, BB pressing types. You should have seen what they morphed into…heels in hands, muttering words that had no semblance to their usual ‘yeah’ ‘finna’ and ‘innit’…stuff sounded like “iru ojo wo leleyii gaan” and if you as much as said ‘Hi’, you’ll get something like “ab’oloshi ni e nii?”

Babes were not smiling o! Brazilian hair and wigs gone ‘down the drain.’ haha! One lady’s wig developed a mind of its own and was far ahead of her in the flood..she was caught between the wig and the deep brown flood! Eventually, she decided to ditch the wig (some guy will remedy that afterall)… And for the guys, it didn’t matter if you were in a Range or a G-class, if it wasn’t a 180horsePowered, wooden interior, alloyed paddle CANOE, then you were not winning! You couldn’t pick the chics cos no one wants to push in the event you enter a hole or the car just stops.

*sidebar* I’ve ordered my neighborhood carpenter Monsuru (who sits in a corner wearing Dolce & Gabanna) to get on the canoe making job for me..i cant carry last!

Ok, at this point, I’m wondering where I’m going with this…errrmm..I should just stop, yeah? Yup! I thought so too! You could have told me earlier that you were tired though, *shrugs* ah well..wrapping up…I just wanna…oh fack it.

*drops BB*


Posted by on July 18, 2011 in Uncategorized