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Friday 30 July 2010

We were hardly through the door when we went at each other like starved pit-bulls...I slowly took off her thong with my teeth....

From across the street, the sign at the clinic didn’t look as inviting as it did last week. It took a while before I could force myself to cross over to the other side. I walked in and said a muted “good morning” to the nurse/receptionist.
I guess she was used to people being apprehensive on the day they picked up their test results, and she replied with a cheery “Welcome sir, and how are you today?” I managed a smile and handed over my card.
“Sir, you will be required to see our counselor before picking up your test results”, she said without looking at the card.
“I already did, last week when I came for the test…she signed my card”
“Ah…alright then. Hmmm…your results have been ready since the last 4 days."
"Yeah..I was like, out of town". My excuse sounded lame.
"Please give me a couple of minutes sir, I’ll be right with you”
It turned out to be the longest 2 minutes of my life…I sat in the reception chair with my hands clasped between my knees. There were a 2 other people seated in the reception room but, as if by an unspoken agreement, we simply refused to acknowledge each other's presence. I guess everyone had a lot on our minds right about then.
I leaned my head back on the wall behind me and picked a spot on the white ceiling to keep my eyes locked on, allowing my mind to be flooded by the muted music coming from hidden speakers… “Gad…you gotta help me out here”, I prayed silently…
I tried to keep my mind focused on happy thoughts and on the other things I had to do for the rest of the day, just to while away time, but my mind kept going back to memories of how I got here in the first place.


My job used to take me around a lot…and I get to be “out of station” sometimes for months on end. I was in the old Energy city for about 3 months…sometimes for up to 3 weeks at a stretch, working on building a centre for one of the communication companies here. I stayed at a small hotel in a quieter part of town…just a place I could kick back after being on my feet for most of the day on site. Being a loner (usually), it was my kinda place: small, hidden and quiet. My cousin often came around to drag me out on weekends and take me around town though. Most other times I just stayed in my hotel room, watching movies on my laptop or working, creating a “sound wall” of loud rock music.
Towards the end of the building project, a number of the advance staff from the communications company started coming around, “to beta test the place”, like they said anyway.

That’s when I met Nancy.

Smallish, bookish, academic type…shrill voice, big eyes, wearing a shoulder-length weave, acrylic nails..legs that looked great in heels, her skirts were always cut above her knees...hmmm, not bad!
I actually didn’t notice when she came on site. I just started getting reports from some of the construction workers still on site doing remedial work that there was this “bitch of a woman” giving them hell…complaining about any and everything.
“Just do what you need to do, so we can get out of here”, I told them.
On that fateful day though, I was in my make-shift office, in the still-unfinished space meant for “phase 2” of the project, working on my snag-list for the building, when this cute chick walks up to my desk..
“Are you Mr. Obi?”
“Can you come with me for a minute; I need to show you something”
She led me towards the back of the building…I noticed the construction workers we passed on the way there, who usually gave nods of acknowledgement anytime I walked passed them, did their best to stay away from her path.
“How come there’s water in the underground tank, but no water in the bathrooms?” she asked, pointing to the full underground water storage tank..
“Excuse me, I REALLY must apologise for that”, I answered “we didn’t expect the company staff in till Monday. The booster pumps are being delivered tomorrow and will be installed and tested over the weekend”
“Well I hope so, my people are coming in on Monday, and we expect to have fully functioning offices”
“Promise, cross my heart” I said (or something to that effect).
I guess maybe it was the “authority” in her voice that intrigued me…or maybe I had been away from civilization for too long.

I hung out with my cousin that weekend...we both went out to the building site first. She wanted to see what I had been working on all this while and I wanted to make sure the pumps were installed.
“Nice work you’ve done here”
“Thanks, I should be out of your hair by next week-ish”
“Na wa o..will miss you jarey”
“Yeah yeah”
“Hey, I almost forgot…a friend of mine, we went to secondary school together, she called me last weekend that she’s been transferred here by her office, a communications company”
“..and her name is??” I asked, wrinkling my forehead.
“ know her?”
"Oh jeeez..!!"

I got in early on Monday to make sure everything was working right…I just HATE it when the advance staff comes to take over their building before I’m out of there...they complain about EVERYTHING…I want a socket here…My desk will be here, can I have a light point over it?...Do we have to share bathrooms with the HOD?...Can we have more power outlets in the kitchen…Can this window be widened??
Sheesh…if I remained here long enough, the ass-wipes will be asking for jacuzzi’s in their offices…
I don’t really know why, but I kept an eye out for Ms. Nancy…the place was getting busy with staffers sorting out their furniture and stuff. I spotted her waving at me from amidst her “people”, and she gave me a thumbs-up sign…I guess she knows the pumps are working now. I went off to my office to sort out my hand-over reports..

Thursday: I was supposed to be back in the Lagos office by Friday morning and I was waiting for the driver to come take me to the airport today. I had confirmed my flight for 4:30pm and called him, asking him to come pick me up by would take a two and a half hour speed drive to the airport and it was still 11:30am, so I still had a couple of hours to burn. I decided to stroll around the site one last time before I leave, maybe take a few final “after” pictures. Again, I don’t really know why, but I ended up in Ms. Nancy’s office. They were having an early lunch, or celebrating their new offices…a bunch of food packs were on a table at one corner of the office.
“Hey, Obi…you hungry? Join us na”
“Sure...why not?”
I grabbed a food-pack and a coke, then sat in her “visitors’” chair and we ended up talking for a while..about the building, about my cousin, her secondary school, varsity, MY secondary school and varsity…she turned out not to be such a hard-nosed bitch after all. The driver finally showed up at about 1:00pm and waited in the car downstairs. I sent him a food pack down to keep him busy. As I was about to leave Nancy, I leaned forward to plant a kiss on her cheek..I noticed she moved her head away just a tad, but stilled allowed the kiss..hmmmm..

Plane touched down in Lagos about 5:45pm...flight was a bit rough, but I guess around here these days, any flight that lands in one piece was a good one. I had just switched my phone on when a text message came in..
“Did u hav to kiss me in front of my workers? I dont tink dat was necessary, did u? Hope u had a safe trip– Nancy”
Hmph, drama…well, at least now I had her number (it hit me just then that I forgot to ask her for the heck did she get mine?)
Stressed out with Lagos traffic and the “no light” wahala when I got home, I had almost forgotten about her till just after midnight. Bored with writing my report, I wondered if it was too ungodly an hour to be calling her…decided on sending a text..
“Sorry if I embarrassed u in front of ur subordinates..wasnt my intention. Got back 2 Lag ok. Thanx 4 d rice”
Reply came in half a minute later
“Dats ok..glad u got home safe”
Hmmm….a fellow night!!

Anyway, what followed was about 2-3 months of all-day text messages and funny/generic emails, late night hours long calls, phone sex..and this was before happy-hour was invented (hey, she worked with a cell-phone service company, they get free air-time) etc.

She called quite early one Saturday morning...
“Hey, Obi…a colleague of mine is on leave in Lagos…could you text me your address so I can send it to her. I gave her a something for you, she needs to know where she can drop it off”
The cute chick lying next to me groaned as she turned to face me..
“Who was that?", she whispered sleepily.
“Friend…no biggie”
“’s still dark…wake me up at 7:00 jo..I’ve got lectures today”
Mandy was a “friend”…met her a few years earlier, and she went to Varsity close to where I lived. She had come over to hang out for the weekend. I sauntered off to the living room to watch early Saturday morning cartoons (at least we had light now; I better enjoy it while it lasts). Slumped on the couch and sent off the text to Nancy.
Woke Mandy up at 7:15, made her breakfast while she showered, and she later left for campus. It was almost noon while I was taking a shower when Nancy’s call came in..
“Hi friend’s having a little trouble finding your place, I’m gonna ask her to call you now, so you can you give her directions..??”
Her friend called me thirty seconds later (she seemed to be giggling a tad too much). I asked her to hand her phone over to the cab-driver and I gave him directions. It wasn’t till I hung up that it occurred to me that Nancy might actually be with her in the car…and they were both on their way to my place!!
They arrived at my door about 15 minutes later, with Nancy carrying a suitcase (Uh-oh!)
“Yeah right” I thought…“Heeeey, welcome to Lagos” I said.
We all hung out at my place for a while…gisting and laughing…for about an hour before seeing her friend off.

We were hardly through the door when we got back before we practically went at each other like starved pit-bulls…she was every inch as crazy as I imagined and more.
Second time around was less frenzied…but just as mind-blowing, she was quite the gymnast.
Doorbell rang about 3 hours later (Shit...I had forgotten about Mandy!!)
Long story short…plenty of drama that night with Mandy throwing a SERIOUS tantrum and me having to do a suicide watch over her all night, and then Nancy having a girl-talk with her at 5am in the morning about the “unreliability of men” and the “need NOT to take any of them seriously” (What the heck…was THAT supposed to be helping??)...I mean, I sat there and watched them have a conversation about me like I wasn’t even in the room…weird!!

I had gone back to Energy city about 3 months later to see about starting phase 2 of the building project. Not surprisingly I stayed at Nancy’s place this time, and not at the hotel. I stayed only one night though.
We had gone back to phone calls...emails and text messages for more than another year, and it seemed like the long-distance relationship syndrome was taking effect. No expectations, no promises, no nothing (drama free, just like I preferred it).

Then one night she called me and asked if I was driving…

I said yes, I was still on my way home from work. She said she’d call me again later that night and hung up.
That was strange…she wasn’t sounding like her usual cheery self.
She called again at about 10:30pm..
“Hey Nancy…yeah, I’m home. Are you ok?”
“No…not really...was at my doctor’s a couple of weeks ago”
“Whoa…what’s wrong?”
It turned out that she was supposed to have a surgical procedure done, and had taken preliminary blood tests 2 weeks earlier which turned up showing that she was HIV positive…she confirmed it a week later and decided to call and tell me about it…Now THAT was a total mind-fuck for me. Torn between having to console her about the discovery, asking her about the up-coming surgery, and worrying about whether I was also infected, I only managed to fumble through my words on the phone. I could hardly put a coherent thought together, much less a sentence. The rest of our conversation was more of a blur…all I could hear was the blood pounding in my head.
She seemed to sense the turmoil I was going through at the time and started telling me words I would later hear almost verbatim from a counselor a week later. She encouraged me not to space out, to go take a test and take it from there. Needless to say, there was NO sleep for me that night.

First thing was to get a test done, right? Shit..I had NEVER had an HIV test done before...I know where they had a clinic close to a pal’s place at Yaba, but I’ve never been in there before.. it took me 2 days and 3 visits to the clinic before I could work up the nerve to walk through the door. I tried to look cheerful as I approached the nurse. Told her what I came for and she gave me a 2-page form to fill. Then had a counseling session…the counselor seemed to have assumed I already tested positive…and advised me on “appropriate behaviour”, diet, exercise and attitude “in case I tested positive”. Then it was off to the little room..a nurse came to take a blood sample from my arm. She seemed to be trying not to look me straight in the eye…quite disconcerting, that.
“Ok..that’s it”, said the counselor when I went back to her office, cotton swab on the needle entry point. “The results should be ready in a couple of days, you can come back then to pick it up”.
I said my thanks and stepped out into the street. Everything was different from then on. Work, play, eating, sleeping…nothing felt the same anymore.
It took me another week to finally go down to the clinic again….


“Mr. Obi Eze?”
The nurse had finally come back to the reception…
“This way sir”
She led me back to the counselor’s office…who waited till the receptionist left before addressing me. I noticed my pulse had become fast, heavy thuds in my ears..
“Mr. Obi, I wont mince words with you sir, your results are out and they don’t look too good. I’m afraid it came back positive”
I almost didn’t hear the words she said…my heart was pounding so loud in my ears, I felt it was going to explode right there...the room seemed to sway a bit. My forehead became instantly wet.
“Are you sure”, I said when I finally trusted myself to speak; I couldn’t even recognize my own voice…
“We triple-check these things,’s totally fool-proof”
She then went on to repeat most of what she said in the earlier counseling sessions, consoling me as best she could (or rather, as best her training could afford her)…I didn’t catch most of what she was saying, anyway…it was all a blur.
“Do you have any idea how you could have been infected”
I thought about Nancy then, but just shook my head…still in shock
“Have you had any intimate contact with anyone in the last 3 months?”
Still all I could do was shake my head. She didn’t seem convinced though…I’m sure she thought I wasn’t even listening to her (she was right).
“You might have to call anyone whom you feel you might have infected, and tell them to get tested…even if it’s just a routine test”
I nodded this time, looking at the floor…

She wrote out prescription drugs, re-emphasising the need for proper diet and exercise.
“There’s still life Mr. Obi…and so there’s still hope, you HAVE to live your life as carefully as you can from now on... Come back in another month for some more tests and evaluations, and we’ll see..ok?”
She said a few more practiced words of encouragement and even saw me to the door (I guess that was a gesture reserved for the VIP patients).
I stopped at the receptionist’s to make an appointment for the next month. Funny...she no longer seemed as cheery as she was when I came in.
The sun was bright when I stepped onto the street…people were walking along without cares in the world, kids playing on the street. It would have been a perfect day…if only..if only…
Everything was different now, plans I had might have to change, promises I made to people…things I wanted to do…ALL that has to change now.
“Damn”, I thought, as I crossed the street to where I parked.

Stopping at a phone card shop on my way home, I loaded my phone with air-time.
I had a few long calls to make…

My thoughts: The above piece, titled ' what next..??' was written by today's featured author Obi Eze

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Wednesday 28 July 2010

Your child is cute but...&other stories (Disclaimer: copious amount of sarcasm within bog!)

Cute child but...:

1. Since my last report, your child has hit rock bottom and has started to dig.

2. I would not allow this student to breed.

3. Your child has delusions of adequacy.

4. Your child is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.

5. Your son sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.

6. The student has a “full six-pack” but lacks the plastic thing to hold it all together.

7. This child has been working with glue too much.

8. When your daughter’s IQ reaches 50, she should sell.

9. The gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn’t coming.

10. If this student were any more stupid, he’d have to be watered twice a week.

11. It’s impossible to believe the sperm that created this child beat out 1,000,000 others.

12. The wheel is turning but the hamster is dead

Naturally The school and teachers are being sued by parents who want their children's failing grades changed to passing grades - even though those children had terrible report cards, were absent 15-30 times during the semester and did not complete enough school work to pass their classes

The outgoing message:
Hello! You have reached the automated answering service of your school. In order to assist you in connecting to the right staff member, please listen to all the options before making a selection:
To lie about why your child is absent - Press 1
To make excuses for why your child did not do his or her work - Press 2

To complain about what we do - Press 3
To swear at staff members - Press 4
To ask why you didn't get information that was already enclosed in your newsletter and several flyers mailed to you - Press 5
If you want us to raise your child - Press 6
If you want to reach out and touch, slap or hit someone - Press 7
To request another teacher, for the third time this year - Press 8
To complain about bus transportation - Press 9
To complain about school lunches - Press 0
If you realize this is the real world and your child must be accountable and responsible for his/her own behaviour, class work, homework and that it's not the teachers' fault for your child's lack of effort: Hang up and have a nice day!
If you want this in Spanish, move to a country that speaks it!

Just for smiles:

Gina returned from a doctor's visit one day and told her husband Patthat the doctor said she only had 24 hours to live.

Wiping away her tears, she asked him to make love to her. Of course he agreed and they made passionate love.

Six hours later Gina went to him again, and said, "Honey, now I only have 18 hours left to live. Maybe we could make love again?" Pat agreed and again they made love.

Later Gina was getting into bed when she realized she now had only Eight hours of life left. she touched Pat's shoulder and said, "Honey? Please? Just one more time before I die." He agreed, then afterward he rolled over and fell asleep.

Gina, however, heard the clock ticking in her head, and she tossed and turned until she was down to only four more hours. She tapped her husband on the shoulder to wake him up. "Honey, I only have four hours left! Could we...?"

Her husband sat up abruptly, turned to her and said, "Listen Gina, I'm not being funny but I have to get up in the morning and you don't."


Anyone for a cup of ..Innuendo's

A man staggered into a hospital with a concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes, and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.

Naturally, the Doctor asked him, 'What happened to YOU?'

'Well, I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when at a difficult hole, we both sliced our golf balls into a field of cattle.

We went to look for them and while I was looking around I noticed one of the cows had something white in its rear end.'

'I walked over, lifted its tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's monogram on it - stuck right in the middle of the cow's butt.

Still holding the cow's tail up, I yelled to my wife, 'Hey, this looks like yours!''

'I don't remember much after that'

Ladies, do CATER to your husband:

Sani and his bride had been married only two weeks.

Sani, although very much in love, can't wait to go out on the town and party with his old buddies. "Honey," says he to his new bride, "I'll be right back..."

"Where are you going, Coochy Coo?" asks the wife. "I'm going to the bar, Pretty Face. I'm going to have a beer." "You want a beer, My Love?" She opens the refrigerator door shows him 25 different brands of beer from 12 different countries: Germany, Holland, Japan, India, USA including six places he's never even heard of.

Sani is nonplussed, and all he can think to say is, "Yes, Honey Pie, but the bar you know...the frozen glass..." He hasn't finished the sentence before wifey interrupts him by saying, "You want a frozen glass, Puppy Face?" She hands him a mug out of the freezer that is so cold that it burns his fingers "Yes, Tootsie Roll," hubby says a bit desperately, "but at the bar they have those hors d'oeuvres that are really delicious... I won't be long. I'll be right back. I promise. OK?" "You want hors d'oeuvres, Pookie Pooh?"

She opens the oven and removes 15 different hors d'oeuvres: chicken wings, pigs in a blanket, mushroom caps, pork strips, etc. "But, Sweetie, the know...the swearing, the dirty words and all that..." "You want dirty words, Cutie Pie? Here...DRINK YOUR FUCKING BEER IN YOUR FROZEN FUCKING MUG AND EAT YOUR FUCKING SNACKS, BECAUSE YOU AREN'T GOING ANYWHERE! GOT IT, ASSHOLE?!!"



One night a guy takes his girlfriend home. As they are about to kiss
each other goodnight at the front door, the guy starts feeling a little
horny. With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall
and smiling, he says to her, "Honey, would you give me a blow job?"
Horrified, she replies, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"
"Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?" he asks grinning at her.
"No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"
"Oh come on! There's nobody around, they're all sleeping!"
"No way. It's just too risky!"
"Oh please, please, I love you so much?!?"
"No, no, and no. I love you too, but I just can't!"
"Oh yes you can. Please?"
"No, no. I just can't"
"I'm begging you ... "
Out of the blue, the light on the stairs goes on, and the girl's sister
shows up in her pajamas, hair disheveled, and in a sleepy voice she says,
"Dad says to go ahead and give him a blow job, or I can do it. Or if need
be, Mom says she can come down herself and do it.

But for God's sake tell him to take his hand off the intercom!"

As women grow older...

It is important for men to remember that, as women grow older, it becomes harder for them to maintain the same quality of housekeeping as when they were younger. When you notice this, try not to yell at them.
Some are oversensitive, and there's nothing worse than an oversensitive woman.

My name is Jim. Let me relate how I handled the situation with my wife, Peggy. When I retired a few years ago, it became necessary for Peggy to get a full-time job along with her part-time job, both for extra income and for the health benefits that we needed.

Shortly after she started working, I noticed she was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the golf club about the same time she gets home from work.

Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home-cooked grub when I hit that door.

She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she really appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed.

Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But, boys, we take 'em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.

When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half finished mowing the yard I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to fix herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too.

I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Peggy. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do how frustrating women get as they get older.

However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other.




Jim died suddenly on May 27 of a perforated rectum. The police report says he was found with a Calloway extra long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver II golf club jammed up his rear end, with barely 5 inches of grip showing and a sledge hammer laying nearby.

His wife Peggy was arrested and charged with murder. The all-woman jury took only 15 minutes to find her Not Guilty, accepting her defense that Jim somehow, without looking, accidentally sat down on his golf club.

When Bobo met Baby....

Hello..please permit me to seek your opinions on a very important issue in relationships and that is, when EXACTLY is a gentleman and lady officially an item???

To expantiate i will give four scenarios which i hope covers the four basic characteristics of many heterosexual African ladies.

Baby A is 20 yrs old, she met Bobo(sharpguy) A when she was a jambite. Baby A's mum has always told her to marry as a she kept off sex at the beginning while dating Bobo A, but after a year, Bobo began to put pressure on her. So one night on his birthday she was deflowered. In her head she believes that they are now Oko and Iyawo, but is this true?

Baby B is 26 years old. She heard that internet dating is now the latest koko so she put up a profile. Soon she met Bobo B(myspacelover) and they became close friends. each of them eager to get to a laptop to send romantic/racy msgs to each other. Now Baby B wears a ring bcos she belives she is now off limits. guys/gals is she justified??

Baby C is 34 years old. She met Bobo C(longtermfriend) when they were in primary school. They have shared stories together of love,flings and heartbreak. They visit each others houses and sometimes goes for trips together.BUT THEY HAVE NEVER TALKED DEEPLY OR BEEN INTIMATE.Now this babe is old fashioned. She believes that a relationship should be defined or else it is not a rlship but as far as Bobo C is concerned this is his last busstop. my people who dey right here?

Baby D is 42 yrs and loves the good things of life.
She met Bobo D(Older guy) three years ago.infact she stored his name as "runs" now baby D believes that her own man wll be the guy that buys her a Bentley. Bobo D has taken care of her but prior to this time had bought her a car. In Jan 1st she received the keys to a Rav4 from Bobo Jan 2nd she prompty removed changed his name from Runs to My heartbeat. Do you agree with her?

If any of this ladies come across signs of infidelity in their bobos, will they be right to get upset?
Thank youxxx

Tuesday 27 July 2010

MUCH ADO ABOUT AGE!! My rant today is on excuse my very direct methods, but the note tucks right into the meat of it!! :).

Beyond the talk, beyond the rhetoric, beyond what Nigerian societies will say (if you are Nigerian) beyond all social graces and bullsh&t, tell me your gut feeling about age..does it matter or not??

Here are a few illustrations to guide your thought processes..they are by no means a representative of the majority, just a select few that are known internationally (or can be googled) so their stories are true and not some made up fantasy no one can even verify :P

Ashton and Demi:
15 years difference she cant have kids naturally anymore..however they are married and even if we ignore her side of the story as she is the older and wiser person, what about ashton? he seems very very in love and has not cheated.. does age matter?

Harrison and Calista: 23 years difference, they annouced their upcoming marriage. Is Harrison in love because she is younger? Oh I forgot, she is not worthy to be loved because she cant bear children...(as some men responded to same question on my facebook page o, not my words1)

So lets move to other couples shall we..
The following age gap seems to be the perfect kind as the Nigerian men responding to my note on facebook clamoured for. Younger sexier woman who has some 'banging' in her. (No be my quote) and who can still bear children (also no be my quote).
Cheryl and Ashley: Super sexy woman and a man with more money than she can spend

They look the part of true love, plus Cheryl is younger than Ashley by 3 years and definitely can still bear children! So what happened na? Abi na because she no born..Okay next couple then

Tiger woods and wife:
Mrs Tiger is very beautiful, definitely the type of woman people like Tiger usually want (Blonde hair, blue eyed) plus she had children for him! Now Tiger woods has about 5 years in his wife. SO WHY DIDNT THE AGE GAP EQUAL TO A LONG LASTING MARRIAGE? Abi the years were too close? Oya proceed to next couple.

Mel Gibon and Oksana: Theirs seem to be the kind celebrated in the pages of Nigerian celeb magazines and blogs. You know the type, 'born in poverty Nigerian man, who suddenly made stupendous amount of money' prefer as well as 'born in povert Nigerian female teenager now a student in uni respectively; are hoping to hit before their 'best days' (26yrs tops) are gone' hope to 'trap'.. Harrison traded in his wife for a younger model. Oksana is sexy, and whats more she is young enough to have children.

Happy days! I guess some men belive they are only as old as the woman they 'bed. I cant argue with that...but then again..well sha. so what happened? Is a younger woman or older man the guarantee of a loving relationship??

I am helping out a friend of mine and would really be grateful to hear your take on this issue.

Would men prefer to marry a younger woman? is it true? or is it just a myth. Are there reasons for that if it is true. Taking various factors into consideration social, biological, financial, companionship etc( the opinion poll can bring out more factors) factor in love( love is blind and in the realm of love age is just a number) but in reality what would be preferred.

The situation, the man is 35 years old, would he prefer to date and marry a 25 year old lady or a 34 year old lady assuming courtship will take 18 months before marriage.. put yourself in place of the man and make comments. Every situation in life is different and no two people are the same. Make fair assumptions and discuss.

This is an opinion poll mainly for the men and to understand what factors they take into consideration to make a decision. In am ideal world bla Bla bla…………. We don’t live in one .

This poll isto know how men tick and why.

Thanks in advance for your comments.

p.s: *You know who, no vex ooo, but you OWE me ooo:P!*


Sunday 25 July 2010

Treating ASS and other acryonyms (read-latest slangs!)

For those who have been running their beaks calling this picture an ASS, well you may not have known that ASS is also called the African Wild Ass (Equus africanus). The species name for the African Wild Ass is sometimes given as asinus, but this usage is erroneous since the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature has conserved the name Equus africanus in Opinion 2027. This was done to prevent the confusing situation of the phylogenetic ancestor being taxonomically included in its descendant.

Thus, if one species is recognized, its the correct scientific name is E. africanus asinus. Open ya ear and listen and learn o, the two subspecies recognized are the Nubian Wild Ass Equus africanus africanus (von Heuglin & Fitzinger, 1866),[2] and the Somali Wild Ass Equus africanus somaliensis.

As we are not very sure of Buffy's real name, nevermind, heritage we shall classify her in the general category :P

So now that you know, please, next time you want to type something, at least use the proper term, no dey dere dey dull! Anyways, Angelique Owolomo graciously published this on facebook which I have copied unto for my eager students to learn street lingua.
Behold them:
1. LWKM - Laugh wan kill me
2. LWKMD - Laugh wan kill me die

3. MIDG - make i dey go
4. WGYL - we go yarn later
5. IGA - I gbadun am
6. ICS - I can't shout
7. DJM - Don't jealous me
8. WBDM - Who born d maga
9. UDC - U de craze
10. NUS - Na u sabi
11. WSU - who send u
12. OSABZ - over sabi
13. ITK - I too know
14. WDH - wetin dey happen
15. NDH - nutin dey happen
16. FMJ - free me jo
17. BBP - bad bele people
18. HUD - how u dey
19. WKP - waka pass
20. BBG - baby girl
21. KKL - Kokolette
22. MML - mamalette
23 GFF- Gbono fe le fe le (e.g., she GFF)
24. NTT - Na true talk
25. IKU - It koncain u?
26. NDM - no dull me
27. LGT - let's goo there
28. IFSA - I for slap am
29. IGDO - I go die o
30. YB - Yess boss
31. NLT - No long thing
32. 2GB - 2 gbaski (e.g., the song 2GB!)
33. CWJ - carry waka jorh
34. WBYO - wetin be your own
35. U2DW - U 2 dey worri
36. U2DV - U 2 dey vex
37. MKG - maka gini?
38. WSDP - who send dem papa
39. INS - I no send
40. INFS - I no fit shout
41. WWY - who wan yarn
42. NBST - no be small thing
43. NWO - na wah oooooo
44. NMA - no mind am
45. MIHW - make i hear word
46. NBL - no be lie
47. NB? - na beans?
48 wd - wetin dey
49. UNGKM - u no go kill me
50. o2s - omo 2 sexy
51. DDDD - dey dere dey dull.
So, no DDDD read, learn and use dem! MIDG, WGYL!

Thursday 22 July 2010

Today's featured author is my own Baby sister with: MATHEMATICS FOR SHOPAHOLICS

This piece is written by my sister Mammoth and is dedicated to all those whose eyes are bigger than their tummies or wallets. Enjoy!!


Note...if an item used to be £250, now £100, you have not saved £150 but lost £100 if you never intended to buy it..but bought it anyway..

Buy one get one free at £49.99 ..the real price of the item is probably £24.99 each...

If a shop sign says up to 50% off...dont be cheesed off when you get inside and there are only reductions of 10-15%...the sign said 'up to'...

Lastly..beware of shops that are permanently on 'closing down sales'..they probably just have their prices up by whatever % reduction the sale sign says...

HAHA! Hope you enjoyed that..feel free to add ur own musings...... :-D
Tha Mammoth

Mena'a thoughts: Well you heard her so dont say I dont teach you nothing in here! :P

Sunday 18 July 2010

Interesting story: SAD STORY TO GAIN FROM

A Couple has been married for 5 years now. They have a 2 year daughter. Like any couple they have their ups and downs, that's life.

One day just after they had a fight over their differences of opinion, the wife went shopping at the local mall, where she bumped into her ex-boyfriend from varsity. After a chit-chat, she discovered he was doing well for himself in business. They exchanged numbers. From that day on, they started talking daily over the phone. Plans were made to meet, but where, when?

That's when the ex-boyfriend came up with a plan that they should meet in Cape Town to spend a week together. The ex-boyfriend would organize everything; the plane tickets and a nice beach holiday resort for them to enjoy.

She would have to lie to her husband, saying she is going to a conference in Cape Town for a week. Her husband took her to the airport on Sunday evening. 2 hours later she was met in Cape Town by her ex-boyfriend who had arranged a very romantic evening with her. After the romantic evening they went back to the resort, made love without a condom, of course they have known each other for a very long time.

For the next 5 days they had a wonderful time jollying / quad biking, up the mountain in the cable car, swimming and sun bathing etc, wining and dining at the Capes top cafe's and restaurants, something she had rarely done with her husband.

They enjoyed everything money could buy, until she left on Saturday afternoon back to Johannesburg . They used different flights to avoid being seen together (you know people talk). She was waiting in the airport for her husband to fetch her, when she received a call from her ex-boyfriend, who told her he was HIV-positive and that it was not a co-incidence when they met at the mall.

The reason why he infected her with the disease was because he was jealous of the family she has and the beautiful woman she had become and the fact that he was financially successful but he is not happy because he knows that he is dying.

At that moment she just stood there and froze; thinking about what to do, as it was already too late to take anti-retroviral. She could lay a charge against him; it would only expose her for cheating on her husband.

That's when she took a taxi to her best friend's house. She told her friend everything that had happened and ask for advice. The friend advised her to come clean with her husband, tell the truth, she has just lost everything and has nothing more to lose. She then phoned her husband and explained every thing.

To my surprise, the husband collected his wife from her friend's house; he sat down with her and told her how much he loves her and reminded her of the vows he took at church and that it was a terrible mistake she has made, which unfortunately she has to pay for it with her life.

He told her that he is never going to leave her; he has forgiven her and will stick by her side no matter what happens.

Now she stays in another bedroom and he shares his bedroom with their daughter.

What is currently happening is, the wife is terribly sick and might die at anytime.

"The morale of the story is? As people, we tend to undermine those who love us for a moment's pleasure (we tend to take love for granted).

Thursday 15 July 2010

30 Commandments to being d "perfect" husband INFS!

The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of the writers but based on extensive research and surveys.

1. Thou shall not be a SMALL BOI!!
2. Thou shall not be a long sturvs guy… all those I don’t really know what I want right now, I am not ready for a relationship, “its not you, its me”, I cant give you what you want…LONG TINGS PLEASE!!!! (let us know your P)
3. Thou shall not be giving us DEEP STURVS...stick to OLU MAINTAIN and DBANJ (all you talib kweli and mosdef lover...NOT WERKING)
4. Thou shall not wear “jumping jacks” trousers, Polo shirt, popping collar and sagging jeans, and then believe that you are kaking up. (NOT THAT TYPE OF TIN PLS!!!)
5. Thou shall not be popping Moet, holding bottles of Hennessy and or Courvoisier (you are a SMALL BOY!!!! Refer to commandment 1)
6. Thou shall not be wearing monogram outfits. Take note: Fendi belters and Gucci shoe wearers ( AGAIN REFER TO COMMANDMENT 1)
7. Thou shall not be asking what I am wearing in the middle of the night. If its hooking you like that, YOU CAN POP YOUR CHAMPAGNE!!
8. Thou shall not be asking me How far with my friend, “she’s ok innit though”
9. Thou shall not be pulling all those half and half bill type sturvs. Its cheap plus I don’t think your grand father will approve of that… traditions baby traditions.
10. Thou shall not be cracking dry jokes… ITS NOT FUNNY!!!
11. Thou shall not be forming RMK (Rich Men’s Kids) commandment 1 peoples commandment 1
12. Thou shall not use money as bait ( especially when you cannot put your money where your mouth is… and you might just end up being used)
13. Thou shall not be my navigator or stalker, its not very attractive (I am thinking desperado!)
15. Thou shall not tell me your whole life history (BORING!!!!)
16. Thou shall not be lying about your achievements… If you didn’t go to school, please say so!
17. Thou shall not be coming up to me and telling me “I am a rapper” (you seem ambitionless especially if you are a drop out!)…stuck to Business or Oil and Gas Engineering, that way we won’t have to worry about the sale of your albums.
18. Thou shall not be giving us American accent or South London sturvs…like “innit” and “shorty” (naff pls)
19. Thou shall not be telling me, “I have so many female friends” (we all know, you are sleeping with them)
20. Thou shall not be trying to prove that you are different from any other (who are we kidding? YOU ARE ALL THE SAME!!)
21. Thou shall not be speaking pigin English to me. (We know every girl wants a “real” guy but that’s pushing it mate!!)
22. Thou shall not be a “mummy’s boy”….its not cute! (REFER TO COMMANDMENT 1)
23. Thou shall not be a PANT wearer, stick to boxers or boxer briefs!!
24. Thou shall not have crusty hands and feet, manicures and pedicures are not restricted to the female race!
25. Thou shall not be a Michelin man, all you 24 hour gymers… Its not that attractive!!
26. Thou shall not have “big nyash” pls leave it for the ladies (ALL YOU RMD NYASH LOOKALIKES... TAKE NOTE)
27. Thou shall not have long finger nails… its simply disgusting!
28. Thou shall not be caught “shuffling your balls” in public…that’s just razz!
29. Thou shall not forget to introduce us to your families, especially the mothers and sisters… WE NEED TO GET IN THERE FULLY!!!!
30. Thou shall not break this last rule. If you do you are FINISHED!!! You have no hope even in hell. If you break this next commandment, there is no redemption. THOU SHALL NOT HAVE SMALL STURVVVVZ!! This one Viagra cannot help you out, you are doomed for life!!!!!!

My thoughts: *Caller busy, try again later*

30 commandment to being the perfect wifey : Naija rules of 'engagement' Part 1 :)

30 COMMANDMENTS: to being the “perfect” wifey for a Naija guy by The Amazing Lasses of Lee-ville

1. Thou shall NOT be a LONG TINS BABE (you know what I mean?)
2. Thou shall not lack in boobs, yansh and hips. If you must, please lack only one and find a way to make up for it.

3. Thou shall NOT be a down to earth, real or ride or die chick. I.e all those ruff, rugged and raw “tell it as it is” girls, NOT WERKING.
4. Thou shall not have dew hair (All those afro/afro-kinky “soul” sisters… FORGET IT).
5. Thou shall not be a non-church goer. Ladies, for extra credit, be an usher, Sunday school aunty or PRAYER WARRIOR (This applies to other religious sects)
6. Thou shall not go to club to find husband... YOU GO JONZ!!
7. Thou shall not drink hard liquor or beers. Stick to 2 glasses of wine, IF YOU MUST DRINK ALCHOHOL.
8. Thou shall not have un-manicured nails (It has to be French manicure acrylic nails).
9. Thou shall not have daddy issues (victims of divorced parents and dysfunctional families … keep it to yourselves).
10. Thou shall not go without makeup (i.e. caked foundation, studio fix but ensure that the make up has a natural look which is purple lip liner, pink lip gloss and chocolate/natural eye shadows)
11. Thou shall not lack culinary skills. Perfect the art of egusi, ogbono and all variations of rice. Home Economics is in order
12. Thou shall not be a “posh sturvs”. Sushi or lasagne…uh ..really?
13. Thou shall not knack ya head when you have a weave. Futhermore, on no account should you be caught scratching and flicking the condiments into thin air. That is simply DISGUSTING.
14. Thou shall not do any strange degrees, such as development, journalism or medical genetics. Ladies, stick to law, engineering, accounting, business or pharmacy.
15. Thou shall not have a sense of humour or try to even be funny (note: SARCASM IS A NO NO)
16. Ultimately, thou shall not go past a first degree, maybe masters (PHD IS AN ABORMINATION)
17. If thou must study a masters, please please, remember to dumb down when hanging with his friends.
18. Thou shall not disclose too much of yourself. You will seem needy
19. Thou SHALL NOT have a sex life or sexual imagination prior to meeting him. Let him “teach” you.
20. Thou shall not listen to anything other than r’n’b or hip hop (common is pushing it). All you World music and rock chicks, NOT HAPPENING MATE).
21. Thou shall NOT an independent woman. (all those “I can pay my own bills” bullshit… Basically , LONG TINS). Refer to commandment one!
22. Thou shall not be opinionated or well informed (WARNING: This might come off as intimidating. Besides, no one likes a miss know it all).
23. Thou shall not go to any obscure University. Please stick to Kent, Leicester, Nottingham, and Reading. (WARNING- YOU WILL END UP ALONE).
24. Thou shall not be overly friendly. All those social butterflies and jovial. Personalities…BEWARE.
25. Thou shall not be anti-social when it comes to his family. You have to GET IN THERE FULLY.
26. Thou shall not explore any originality when it comes to fashion. Stick to T.M Lewin, Hawes&Curtis, pointies or kitten heels, and jeans – Abortion belt always puts the icing on the cake. To complete the look, don’t be seen without your thick framed rectangular glasses (YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE TO SPECSAVERS).
27. Thou shall not hunt in packs (warning to girls with bossom bodies that cant be separated
28. Thou shall NOT be loud. Keep your voice to a minimum always
29. Thou shall not appear to be having too much fun on the dance floor. When it comes to dancing, keep it simple (Dutty winders and grinders, ITS NOT HAPPENING).
30. Thou shall not think about breaking this next commandment. The ULTIMATE, IF NOT YOU ARE FINISHED.It Will be an OYO STATE (on you own) FOR YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. LADIES PLEASE PLEASE AND PLEASE DO NOT GO TO THE BEDROOM WITH ANY WRAPPER, NIGHT SHIRT, WHITE TOP GEL OR SHELLY ON YOUR FACE. If you must Do all the above, LADIES, BURN THOSE GOLD AND BLACK HAIR NETS. Girls, we are all guilty of owning a hair net or 2. And we know that all the commandments before suggests that you must be a babe on P constantly. You have to FIND A WAY TO WORK AROUND THIS HAIR NET ISSUES. Statistics dictates that one in two marriages FAIL due to this.

My thoughts: Chei I use those nets sha, is that why..? Laff Wan Scatter My Belle For Here ooooo (LFWSMBFHO).

Activity feed

Tuesday 13 July 2010

William returns: NIGERIANS, I’m going to TELL you how to fix your country, Nobody OUTSIDE of Nigeria gives a shit about your petty tribal rivalries

Hi there
Ha, I did saw I will avoid discussing politics in this blog but this piece is a rejoinder to William's first note ( ) where he detailed his experiences while working as an expatriate in Nigeria. I think he had to write this one due to the number of comments the first note gathered on facebook. Number of comments as well the general tilt of the contributors. This piece is suggesting the steps we can take to get our greatness back, goood move as I have no patience for people that criticise without solutions.

Wont spoil it with my thoughts so just keep an open mind and read on :)


Been there, done that, and It... See More’s NOT MY PROBLEM! This is just my opinion, so take it or leave it. For what it’s worth, I think those rebels down in the Delta/Rivers are people I would support. (Yeah..those guys that blow up pipelines and kidnap westerners, etc etc.)Yes, I AM angry, but have a very, very nasty habit; I can FOCUS my anger. So, now, I going to do something I very rarely do: I’m going to TELL you how to fix your country.

First, you have to stop thinking of yourselves as Ibo, or Hause, or whatever. Nobody OUTSIDE of Nigeria gives a shit about your petty tribal rivalries. You are Nigerians, and any petty rivalries can wait…or form football teams based on tribal lines; maybe you could actually learn how to play footie. And stop fighting each other, or at least compete in something that would provide some benefit.

I’ve heard that your president has banned your football team from international competition for 2 years. Is that crazy, or not? What’s HIS role model? North Korea?

You’re FLOATING on OIL, for fucks sake. Is there a single oil producing country in the world that isn’t doing pretty well for it’s people? I’m thinking OPEC/Arab countries. . The ONE large oil well left in the world got invaded by America a few years ago. (Iraq) You could be next; the USA has never worried about minor things like international law. Not that they need to: they are ALREADY pumping it out of Nigeria as fast as they can. What you going to do when it runs out? “Hey, Mr USA, we gave you all our oil, you owe us!”

Multinational reply: “Harararar….you sold it to us. What did you do with the money? Tough shit. Now go away and stop annoying us.”

Oil isn’t the only thing that Nigeria has. It’s got some amazing scenery, which people would pay to see. Pity about the lack of animals: but they could be replaced. Provided you don’t eat them.

One golden opportunity that I know of, and is being ignored; it’s a s simple as 1,2, 3.

1) There’s a nice big runway at Yola. It could easily take large jets, a few hours away from YURIP. All those weather deprived people in overcrowded countries.
2) Of course, planeloads of tourists aren’t going to visit Yola to stay in a very uncomfortable hotel, no matter how grand the scenery. So that’s got to be fixed.
3) A couple of hours drive, depending on season and the state of the road, there’s a HUGE dam to the North West. Huge body of fresh water. Boats, Yachts, windsurfing, scuba diving, water skiing…….do I need to draw a picture?

Of course, the biggest problem would be overcoming the Nigerian desire for instant wealth. “Hey…if I skim off this contract, I can build a new mansion in France!”

Just for fun, just how much work would a project like this generate? IF you don’t contract everything out, and that includes food production; Adamawa is pretty fertile state, with some big rivers… as much food as possible would be grown in the area, instead of just importing everything. So there’s a lot of employment, straight away. Then refurbishment of the hotel, plus some road repairs…permanent hotel staff, drivers, tourist guides…the DIRECT employment would be in the hundreds. Indirect would be in thousands.

Hotel refurbishment

Gut it, and replace whatever needs replacing. Plumbing, electrical, air con etc. This COULD be a showpiece, simply because all the replacement equipment could be of the type that is Nigeria-friendly type. That is, maintenance free, because Nigerians are not good at looking after things. So as well as energy efficient lighting and appliances, which make sense in an electricity-scarce area, things like LED lighting last hundreds of times longer than conventional lighting.

Rant mode *OFF*.


Agreed or Disagreed?



The picture above represents the author and he can be reached through this blog as well as on myspace :

Sunday 11 July 2010

Kola Boof on Sudan: "I speak.. as the former mistress of two of the Arab world's most powerful men, Hasan al Turabi and Osama Bin Laden.."

*No initial thoughts from me, just read and make your own deductions :)If this is the first time you are reading about this lady in this blog, please click here and here For earlier articles.

Controversial Sudanese born novelist, poet and freedom fighter, Kola Boof lives under government protection in the United States because of death threats made against her life by the government of Sudan and other Arab Muslim fundamentalist groups. In 2004, Ms. Boof will have three major books published in the United States and Europe, the most current one being a reissue of her classic short story collection, "Long Train to the Redeeming Sin: Stories About African Women". They are:

"Nile River Woman" (Poems), Feb. 10, 2004
"Long Train to the Redeeming Sin", April 6, 2004
"Flesh and the Devil: A Novel", May 11, 2004.


by Kola Boof

[Ed. Note - Background: For many, many years, the radical Islamic government of Sudan has waged, what President George Bush called, "a brutal and shameful" war against its Christian and animist citizens in southern Sudan to force them to convert to Islam. Negotiations in 2002 in Machakos, Kenya, produced an agreement between the government and the South's Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA), but the war continues. Meantimes, over two million people have died, and another four million have been displaced.]


My dearest ones in Israel, the devil has been very busy. For no matter who risks life and limb to tell the truth about the evil injustices carried out by the Arab Muslim governments of North Africa and by the mullahs that advise these governments, the media in America has responded with a hideous prejudice against Jews, against black African Sudanese, and against any fair-thinking person who dares despise the Arab imperialism that is not only destroying the Middle East, but now threatens to destroy authentic African culture of the Nile River more than it already has.

It does not matter

that I speak as the daughter of an Arab Egyptian father, a woman born Islamic in Omdurman, Sudan, or that I am an accomplished African woman writer, obviously of some intelligence.

It does not matter

that my parents were murdered in my presence, because my Arab Muslim father spoke out against the building of Lake Nuba and the enslavement of Dinka children by Arab Northerners in Sudan.

It does not matter

that I have witnessed Muslim women rolled up in carpets and set on fire, because they failed to produce male children.

It does not matter

that I speak, most regrettably, as the former mistress of two of the Arab world's most powerful men, Hasan al Turabi and Osama Bin Laden, or that I have been a paid hostess at the parties of President Hosni Mubarak and Moamar Khadafi, or that I provided proof of this before I was profiled by Fox News, and therefore, have knowledge of their true faces.

Anyone who speaks the truth in America about the evils of the Arab world is ignored, shunned and accused of supporting the so-called Jewish desecration of the Arab birthright.

Of course, we all remember that the Black Plague was blamed on Jewish people, even in nations where there were no Jews living, and this today, is the similar anti-semitic blame game, but for being a black African woman who has said so in America, I have been written off as "crazy", "emotional", "a whore" and "a hoax".

I don't deny that I'm a controversial, provocative public figure. I reject all man-made religions, be it Christianity, Islam, the Jewish faith, Buddhism or any worship that was created by men. I am a womanist and an African mother. I bare my breasts in the river once a month and I believe in the womb.

Yet still,

I have not lied about the atrocities of the Arab world.
I have not lied about the cruel evils of Islam against African people and those who refuse to join it.
I have told these truths, not because I hate any race or religion of man, but because I believe that it's wrong for human beings to take part in any cult of hate, any orgasm of violence against other humans.
According to my Sudanese Zarpunni (the women's neighborhood) and all the black women before me, the Palestinians have sterilized black women since the 1950's.

It is well known by African women that our wombs are loathed in Arab nations, because it is our wombs that produce the authentic black man. Our tongue bequeaths him his heritage and identity.

Who on this planet will deny me this truth?

In America, I have been greatly criticized by my black American brothers and sisters for supporting Israel instead of Palestine, but as a black woman and a mother of black children, how can I support the colorstruck machinations of the Palestinians?

Unfortunately, the Americans have truly mistaken me for a witch, because the Arabs have money to get their message out and I have only my books and no money,

and even then

the media portrays me as an extremist and a supporter of Bush and the Conservative Republicans,
which is an unmitigated lie.
I am as liberal and as Democratic as any American black,
but I also know the truth
about Arab Muslim societies and about the culture that creates terrorism.

The Black Americans have no knowledge of the true history that has existed more than a thousand years between the Arab Muslim invaders and the authentic African people. The powerful light skinned Black American even looks more like the dark skinned Arab than like the authentic charcoal African, so they are often weak to the propaganda of false Islamic organizations in America. Organizations that spread the lie
that Islam is an African religion
and that the Arab man is our brother,
the Israeli our enemy because of whiteness. They feel no bond with Israel.

But for the sake of my own nation, the Sudan, I am committed to changing that. I feel very strongly that Israel and New Sudan should form an alliance against the Arab world.

Obviously, I am in disagreement with my beloved hero, Dr. John Garang, but I truly believe that the peace talks in Machakos

will produce nothing

but dust, riches for the sellouts, and eventually, more Arab Muslim racism, more exploitation of blacks by the Oil companies, more black slaves for the kitchens of Jordan, Palestine, Egypt, Iraq, Libya and Saudi Arabia.

Because I am a woman and because the men love money more than they love justice, I am given a kiss on the hand and not taken seriously. I am even denied my place of honor in the organization's struggle to free Sudan. My black brothers of Sudan are very sexist and have called me Queen, but then expected the Queen to lay on her back and be a mere follower. In time, of course, they will regret this, because I am a very intelligent, impassioned person. I say now to anyone that will listen,

- and I don't say it for tired old men,
I say it for future generations -

that the Arab Muslim government in Sudan must be overthrown.
There is no other way.

It is impossible to have true peace and solidarity with the people who have
called you "abeed" for a thousand years,
stolen and sold your children into slavery,
raped your mothers and killed your fathers,
over taxed you, stolen your land from you and subjected you to racial profiling.

It is not in the hearts of the blacks to go on being ruled and humiliated by the Arabs.

And because my people have named me "Queen Kola", and because I have not yet lived up to that title, I feel that I must denounce the money offered in the Kenya peace talks and instead uphold the wishes of the people's hearts:
that we be liberated at last from racial, religious and economic dehumanization and oppression.

It's no secret that the freedom fighters of Southern Sudan have received guns and ammunition from Israel. Truly, your loyalty to the Goddess Sudan has been flawless, and I submit, sincerely, that I love you for loving my people. I stand by Israel, not only because Israel has stood by me, but because the Palestinians have defiled me.

I truly pray that someday, there will be peace, love and brotherhood between all mankind. The Arab, the African, the European, the Jew, the Asian and all others, I pray, will someday stand as one, but at this moment in time I am very sad to report that the Arab world is not our friend, and that we must recognize this or perish. I submit that both Israel and New Sudan must stop at nothing to prevail against the evil forces that choke them with malice and threaten their very existence. For if the Arabs were to lay down their weapons today, there would be no more violence. But if we of Israel and Sudan were to lay down our weapons today, we would be dead, and the whole world would be witness to yet another genocide.

War is hell, my beloveds. But so is love. And sometimes, kicking a man's ass is the only love he will accept.

Let us stand against the Arab world, as David slew Goliath. This is not what we wanted, it's what they wanted. And our children deserve our protection.

In the words of the ancient Nubians,"
'So let it be written, so let it be done'.
Tima usrah! (through fire comes the family)

The following are more excerpts from her speech given in Isreal.

"Black Americans keep criticizing me...expecting me to support Palestine, when Palestine is one of the most colorstruck, racist groups of Arabs I've ever known. I don't support any of the Arab nations. To support them is to wish for the Africans to remain without power and without control of our own destinies. To support Palestine is to support slavery in the Sudan and to support the genocide of millions of Black children. Like most black Sudanese, I thank God for Israel, because Israel has been our only supporter and allie over 20 years. They give guns, amunition, food, medicine and money to the Black Sudanese. Without Israel, the Black people of Sudan would be dead. There are 2 million Black Jews in Sudan and another 2 million in Ethiopia. We have a very strong bond with Israel and the African Americans don't realize this. They think the Arab man is our brother. But as an African woman, I see the Arab man as our rapist and white supremacist. He is our greatest enemy.

The end

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Wednesday 7 July 2010

PEARLS OF WISDOM: dont say I dont teach you nothing here! :P

* In the 1400's a law was set forth in England that a man was allowed to beat his wife with a stick no thicker than his thumb.
Hence we have 'the rule of thumb'

* Many years ago in Scotland , a new game was invented. It was ruled 'Gentlemen Only...Ladies Forbidden'...and thus the word GOLF entered into the English language.

* The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time TV were
Fred and Wilma Flintstone.

* Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. . Treasury.

* Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.

* Coca-Cola was originally green.

* It is impossible to lick your elbow.

* The State with the highest percentage of people who walk to work.

* The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28%

* The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%

* The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven: $ 16,400

* The average number of people airborne over the U.S. In any given hour:

* Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair.

* The first novel ever written on a typewriter:
Tom Sawyer.

* Each king in a deck of playing cards represents a great king from history:
Spades - King David
Hearts - Charlemagne
Clubs - Alexander the Great
Diamonds - Julius Caesar

* 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321

* If a statue in the park of a person on a horse that has both front legs in the air means the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air the person died as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes.

* Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4th, John Hancock and Charles Thomson.
Most of the rest signed on August 2, but the last signature wasn't added until 5 years later.

* As most boat owners name their boats, what is the most popular boat name selected?

* If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter 'A'?
One thousand

* What do bulletproof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers, and laser printers all have in common?
All were invented by women.

* What is the only food that doesn't spoil?

* Which day are there more collect calls than any other day of the year?
Father's Day

* In Shakespeare's time, mattresses were secured to bed frames by ropes..
When you pulled on the ropes the mattress tightened, making the bed firmer to sleep on.
Hence the phrase - 'goodnight, sleep tight.'

* It was the accepted practice in Babylon 4,000 years ago that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer and because their calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the honeymoon.

* In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts... So in old England , when customers got unruly, the bartender would yell at them 'Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.'
It's where we get the phrase 'mind your P's and Q's'

* Many years ago in England , pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim, or handle, of their ceramic jars. When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service.
'Wet your whistle' is the phrase inspired by this practice.

* At least 75% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow!

Today's featured author -Jennifer White: Dear Future Husband...

This brilliant piece is from a prolific writer, friend and sister, Jenny. I wont spoil it with a preamble or with my thoughts..just enjoy :)


Dear Future Husband,

Its been a while I wrote you right? Its not because I dont think about you, I still do its just that I'm filled with so many questions and didnt want to freak you out...but well I guess I can still ask:

*where are you honey?
*Dont you miss me...dont you feel me like I feel you?
I miss you alot and wonder if you long for me as I do you

Everyday you are in my thoughts, every passing minute, most times I just try and picture you in all your Magnificence
That handsome look that has a bit of rough edge to it...your broad chest with the fine hairs on it, hard shoulders just as if God knew my head would always rest there, your smile that takes my breath away whenever you look at me fondly with love in your eyes...oh yes, your eyes that seem to see right through me all the way down to my soul.

Why do you keep me waiting my love?

Do you know how many times I long to have pillow fights with you, how many times I feel like running my hands through your hair, or how I long for you to whisper '.... Jay, I love you always and forever

I wait for you darling...I believe God has a good plan for us, and gladly I'll go through the maturing process, because the last thing I want is for me not to appreciate your love when you do show up.

Soon our paths would cross, very soon we will be together forever....a man I call call a Man...a man that would brag about the jewel he has found, a man that would always have my back

Do you know why I love you so? No? Okay I'll tell you..darling its because you love me all the way, you love me with both my good and my stick with me through right and wrong...even through sick and sin, you go out of your way to make sure I always have a smile on my lovely face. I love you because unlike my ex(s) you jhaven't come to take take take and leave me emotionally drained, instead you have come to restore and show me the real side of love. I love how you respect me and my feelings, how you trust and protect me, how u get all my jokes, how you call me your angel...I love how proud you are of me...I love how you read my mind

I wait for that time we will meet and vow to be together forever.

Till then continue to be the strong, God fearing, accomplished, Intelligent, wealthy and trustworthy person you are, for indeed God knows what he is doing, grooming us separatly so we can fit together perfectly. He has custom made you specially for me.

God bless you my love.

Your Love,

Jennifer White

My thoughts: :P *Nah am not crying..there is something in my eye!*

Tuesday 6 July 2010

Did something happen to fatherhood?

Knock Knock by Daniel Beatty
As a boy, I shared a game with my father—
Played it every morning till I was three.
He would knock knock on my door,
And I’d pretend to be asleep till he got right next to the bed.
Then I would get up and jump into his arms.
“Good morning, Papa.”
And my Papa, he would tell me that he loved me.
We shared a game,
Knock knock,
Until that day when the knock never came,
And my Mama takes me on a ride past cornfields
on this never-ending highway
Till we reach a place of high rusty gates.
A confused little boy,
I enter the building carried in my Mama’s arms.
Knock knock.
We reach a room of windows and brown faces.
Behind one of the windows sits my father.
I jump out of my Mama’s arms and run joyously towards my Papa’s,
Only to be confronted by this window.
I knock knock trying to break through the glass,
Trying to get to my father.
I knock knock as my Mama pulls me away
Before my Papa even says a word.
And for years, he has never said a word.
And so, 25 years later, I write these words
For the little boy in me who still awaits his Papa’s knock.
“Papa, come home, ‘cause I miss you.
I miss you waking me up in the morning and telling me you love me.
Papa, come home, ‘cause there’s things I don’t know,
And I thought maybe you could teach me
How to shave,
How to dribble a ball,
How to talk to a lady,
How to walk like a man.
Papa, come home, ‘cause I decided awhile back
I want to be just like you, but I’m forgetting who you are.”
And 25 years later, a little boy cries.
And so I write these words and try to heal
And try to father myself.
And I dream up a father
Who says the words my father did not.
“Dear son, I’m sorry I never came home.
For ever lesson I failed to teach, hear these words:
‘Shave in one direction with strong deliberate strokes
To avoid irritation.
Dribble the page with the brilliance of your ballpoint pen.
Walk like a God, and your Goddess will come to you.
No longer will I be there to knock on your door,
So you must learn to knock for yourself.
Knock knock down doors of racism and poverty that I could not.
Knock knock on doors of opportunity
For the lost brilliance of the black men who crowd these cells.
Knock knock with diligence for the sake of your children.
Knock knock for me.
For as long as you are free,
These prison gates cannot contain my spirit.
The best of me still lives in you.
Knock knock with the knowledge that you are my son,
But you are not my choices.”
Yes, we are our fathers’ sons and daughters,
But we are not their choices.
For despite their absences,
We are still here,
Still alive,
Still breathing,
With the power to change this world
One little boy and girl at a time.
Knock knock,
Who’s there?
We are.
( )

Randy Marsh: N guy

Words with venom, words that bind,
Words used like weapons to cloud my mind.
I'm a person, I'm a man, but no matter how I try,
People just say, "Hey! There's that N*gger Guy."
Everywhere I go it's always the same,
Everyone just thinks of me as that one single name.
"Hey N*gger Guy!" "N*gger Guy!" "Hi N*gger Guy!" Stop!
Now go, call me N*gger Guy, fill me with your hate,
Try to bring me down, boop bop you're too late.
When will it end? Will there ever be a time
Where I can be thought of as more then just N*gger Guy?

Sunday 4 July 2010

This is for that loving, dashing, eligible, Christian gentleman seeking their better

*Are you an eligible, kindhearted, humorous, honest, humble, rich in spirit, special gentleman who seeks a unique, special lady, that diamond in the ruff, made for you to be with for are some tips just for you!*

Real Men Risk Rejection

Men Initiate

Among the different roles assigned to men and women in the Bible, men are assigned the role of leadership. This is true in the church and in the family. This is not a signal of male superiority or of the greater importance of men. It is simply God's design and assignment of equally valuable roles among spiritually equal beings. Men initiate, women respond. Briefly, biblical support for this position is found, among other passages, in the creation order in Gen. 2, in 1 Cor. 11: 7-9, and Eph. 5. True, these passages refer to marriage, but it is wise and right to set patterns that will serve you well in marriage, especially if one accepts the premise that the purpose of dating is to find a marriage partner.

What does this actually look like in a budding relationship between two people?

First, the man should initiate asking the woman out. Whether this means approaching the woman herself or her father or someone filling that role instead of her father, it should be the guy that starts things off. As I mentioned, he should not do this until he is "ready" to marry. If you're not ready to marry, you're not ready to date.

As a quick aside, if you are a single man and you would not describe yourself as ready to be married within a year, think about why that is. I mention this for two reasons: (1) Scripture seems not just to encourage, but to assume that part of the growth into biblical manhood is to seek marriage, so this is a biblical goal; and (2) easily the biggest complaint that I and others who advocate this approach get from godly Christian women is that men don't initiate.

If you're still in school or not out on your own, disregard this for the moment. But if you're out of college and do not feel specifically called to singleness for biblical reasons, why are you not looking to be married? Dr. Albert Mohler has talked about a growing culture in society and in our churches of perpetual boyhood; some psychologists call it the "Peter Pan syndrome."

As I said, in the Bible, marriage and family are considered a natural stage of progression toward manhood. The command in Genesis to be fruitful and multiply is a general command. When Paul extols singleness in 1 Cor. 7 (which is an often-misused passage in this area of life), it is singleness for the purpose of enhanced ministry (discipleship, teaching, missionary work).

If you are floating around staying single because you enjoy social flexibility or having time to yourself or hanging out with the guys or because you have worldly ideas about the perfect woman or how to approach marriage, consider: Are you approaching manhood and marriage biblically? Every male who is out of college should have at least thought this through.

Once he determines he is ready to be married generally, and once he has found a particular woman he is interested in pursuing, our single man's next step is to "put some feelers out." He should talk to some of her friends, see if she's been asking about him, have one or two subtly suggestive conversations with her to see if she gives anything away.... NO! This is not initiation. Initiation is not manipulating the situation so that while you're officially "asking her out" there's no actual risk of rejection or embarrassment.

Initiation means initiation. It means that you as the man take the first step, risk and all.

In his Boundless article, "Real Men Risk Rejection," Michael Lawrence eloquently summarizes both the objections some men might raise to this idea, and, in my view, the ideal response:

"'Wait a minute. Are you saying that all the risk is mine?' Yes I am. 'Doesn't that mean that she can just tell me no and leave me twisting in the wind?' Yes it does. Welcome to leadership. Welcome to trusting God. Welcome to being a man. Your cards belong on the table. Your intentions and your feelings, to the extent that you can discern them and it is appropriate for you to share them, should be clear. Part of your role even at this early stage is to protect the woman of your interest from unnecessary risk and vulnerability by providing a safe context in which she can respond."

Truly profund! selah (as illustrated by 'lola Thompson)

Have a blessed and rewarding week ahead

A diiferent kind of love....Author Unknown..(ok one of those fwd fwd that made sense :P)

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom. This was the scene of ten years ago. The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid, I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life. It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her. Dew said, You are the kind of man who best draws girls eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls. Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help doing so. I moved Dew's hands aside and said, You go to select some furniture, O.K.? I ve got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised her to go and see with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew s body. This was the means of my entertainment. One day I said to her in a slight joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious. When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes. Once again, Dew said to me, Honey, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more. When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I ve got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.

Suddenly I didn t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want to divorce. I raised a serious topic calmly. She didn't seem to be much annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? . I m serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer turned her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! .

At that night, we didn t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew. With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer. A late night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again. She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me,but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month s time we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn't want him to see our marriage was broken. She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day?

This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember . You carried me in your arms , she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning. I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage with a romantic form. I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don t tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for bus, I drove to office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, The outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vaguer.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger.
I didn't tell Dew about this.
I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, All my dresses have grown fatter. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head. Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, Actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old. I held her tightly and said, Both you and I didn t notice that our life was lack of such intimacy. I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won t divorce. I m serious. She looked at me, astonished. Then she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of life, not because we didn t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you. Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into cry. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me to write the greeting words on the card. I smiled and wrote, "I' ll carry you out every morning until we are old."