SERENITY

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
               -Reinhold Niebuhr

Sometimes in life we make split second decisions that can change our destiny… forever. And even though 5yrs, 10yrs, 20yrs down the line, when we know for a fact it cannot be undone, but can only be contained, we cannot as humans help but wonder if those split second decisions were the right ones, or the wrong ones.

I was 27 at the time, been married for 2 years, when I was faced with a tough decision. Since I was very little, I always wanted to marry young, I had envisaged a life of being a young mother and I also didn't want to be too far away from my children age-wise. It didn't exactly go as planned, but getting married at 25 wasn't all so bad. I can still remember my wedding day like it was yesterday… woke up in my father’s house, the house was full of people, sisters, cousins, friends, aunts, photographers, cameras, make-up artists, cooks, cleaners, event planners, it was a frenzy. Everyone was at my beck and call, I felt like a Princess, and it was perfect. Final prayers were said and it was off to the church. My baby sister was my Chief Bride’s Maid and was with me to the end. My wedding dress was stunning, snow white with diamond studs which snaked around my body and emphasized my curves, a trail of layers and layers of white net underneath the dress made me feel like I was in the Victorian Era, a large white rose rested on my left breast and it tickled me every time I looked down. My shoes were silver and glittered like Cinderella’s glass slippers, I was a sight to behold and the cameras never stopped flashing. My father got me a limousine, white with silver tints, my bridal girls were in it with me, with my sister, my CBM by my side, I felt so much love and affection and I really felt like this day was ordained by God Himself.

As we approached the church, an array of cars decorated the street, my father was at the foot of the stairs leading to the church to receive me, more photographers, more little bride’s maids spreading flowers as I walked, it was a carnival, and it was for me. To be honest… my heart was taking it all, maybe because of the pre-wedding meetings we had had over and over again, but as I entered the church and I saw him there, the man I was going to marry, standing by the alter, waiting for me, smiling at me, my heart wrenched. My soul left my body and suddenly the chaotic carnival and cheering and smiling of the friends and family as my father lead me past them was not important… I was about to marry the man of my dreams, Jason Duvall.

Jason and I had dated for 3yrs before that faithful day and he was perfect. Very understanding and caring, loving and respectful, faithful and Godly, he treated me like a Princess, like a Queen. And he was my King.

As I sat in front of the mirror, brushing my hair, I reminisced on the past 2yrs, things have changed slightly since that wedding day, well in the past few months I guess. Jason has become more distant and more aggressive in nature. Not towards me per say, but generally his disposition and countenance has changed. He works day and night, always in his study and always travelling. I know as an Engineer life can really demand a lot from you, especially if you’re great at what you do, and Jason was one of the best in his field. I found myself on my own most of the time, with only my dog pebbles for company. I’d always call Jason and he’d always say “I’d be home shortly Babe.” , he never was home shortly. I’d wake up the morning after and find my husband already dressed and ready to leave, I felt… neglected. It hasn't always been like this though, but for the past say 3 or 4 months, it’s been routine. I looked up as he emerged from the closet, “Morning darling…”, “Hey Babe! You’re up early!?” he replied. “Yup, it’s a big day today.” I said with absolute glee. “Oh is it!? What’s happening today?” he said as he finished knotting his tie. “You… You don’t remember?” I asked with sheer dis-belief. “NO! I don’t remember… is it your birthday? Cause it’s certainly not mine?!” his irritation was apparent. I stared at him through the mirror as I dropped my hair brush gently on the dresser. My smile faded away faster than it had come when I saw him emerge from the closet. “Don’t give me that look… You know I hate that look!” he advised. I remained silent for a moment then I said “D-Don’t worry Jay. It’s nothing. I've made your breakfast”, “I’m not hungry! I don’t know why you’d chose to work me up this morning, but whatever the reason is… I don’t have time for it!” he said as he wore his jacket and made for the bedroom door. “I just wanted to tell you that today is our…” the bedroom door slammed behind him, “anniversary!” I whispered as I heard the front door shut.

I sat for a moment, heartbroken and dejected, clueless as to what was going on with my husband, my dream guy, my King. He used to love me and leave me notes on my pillow for me to read when I woke up. Could his quest for a top position in his office be the reason, or was Jay having an… an… an affair?! My confusion was broken as my phone rang… ‘twas my baby sister, my best friend, my Chief Bride’s Maid at my "fairy tale" wedding, a fairy tale wedding that seems to be exactly that now… a fairy tale. As I picked up she greeted and cheered and screamed “Happy Anniversaryyyyyyyyyy!”, that’s when my heart broke and I broke down crying.

I was… so sad.

My sister invited me over so I wouldn't be alone, as I sat and cried my eyes out, she consoled me as we both tried to make sense of Jay’s sudden disconnection towards me. She held my hand and reassured me that everything was going to be alright. My sister has always been there for me and whenever I’m down, she plays the role of a big sister. Maybe it’s because we were both born in May, or... I don’t know, but we were very close. I told her everything and she hid nothing from me, or so I thought. She asked if I wanted some tea, I didn't mind, anything to make me feel less shitty than I was. As she went to the kitchen to put the kettle on, I sat and reflected on our conversation and was forever grateful that she was there for me. Her phone rang. I jolted in my seat as her ringtone pierced my brain, I called out to her “Jackie your phone!”, she didn't respond. “Jackieee your phone is ringing!” I decided to answer it to put an end to the disturbing ringtone that sliced my head in half, that’s when I heard a voice on the other end “Hey Baby, you home?” I was paralyzed as the voice repeated itself “Jackie? Sweetie you there?”. I dropped the phone as my sister walked back into the living room with a tray. My head turned slowly towards her like I was in slow motion, I could still hear the voice faintly coming out of her cell phone “Baby, say something. Can you hear me?” I was… in shock. Time stood still.

I found myself in my bedroom, how I got there I do not know, but I was there, crying as my tears blurred my vision. I was packing some of my clothes, where I was going I do not know, how long I’d be gone for I do not know, but I knew why I was going. I had to get away. My husband, my King, my Jason Duvall, was having an affair with my sister, my best friend. How did this happen? When did this happen? How did I not see it? As the questions and tears kept flowing, Jay pulled into the driveway. I quickly zipped my suitcase, grabbed my hand bag and made for the door. I wasn’t fast enough. Jason was standing there as I opened the door, sweating like he had just seen a ghost, maybe he had, considering he was looking at me and I felt dead. He wasn’t wearing his jacket and his tie was hanging loosely. It was odd to see him home so early, and for a split second, I almost began to like it that he was there. My right hand acted on impulse as it threw a shoe at him, it bounced off him like a tennis ball, I ran towards him and started hitting his chest, he held me back and said “Babes I’m sorry!” I wasn’t having it. I screamed and yelled and cursed him out as he tried to explain, but his voice was the last thing I wanted to hear. Gosh I was enraged. I threw more things at him, anything I could lay my hands on. He dodged and docked and tried hard to speak, I wouldn’t listen. “How could you??? My own sister?? I knew something was amiss but I just couldn’t place a finger on it. Why Jason? Why? Don’t I make you happy? Don’t I do everything for you? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?? How… Jay? Don’t I love you enough?” my voice tailed off as I sat on the bed breathless. He was quiet now. He sat next to me but I stood up and grabbed my suitcase. “I’m leaving you Jason! I’m done with this fairy-tale of a marriage. You and Jackie can both go to hell and have the Devil officiate your wedding for all I care.” As I opened the bedroom door to leave, Jason stood and yelled “MAY!!”. I stopped and turned slowly “Wh-what?”, he took one step closer and said gently “May, …your favorite month of the year, not because it’s your birth month, but because everything good that has ever come to you, usually comes in May.” I paused. “Blue, …your color and the color of eyes. Mashed potatoes and curry sauce, …your favorite meal. Julia Roberts makes your heart melt whenever you watch her movies and you’ve cried every time you’ve watched Titanic. Things may have changed a little, life has become more demanding and though you feel I’m never there, I always am. I’m not the perfect husband, but you… you are the perfect wife! And I’m sorry. Jackie and I…” “I don’t want to hear it Jay.” I cut in as I wondered how much water I had left in my body as I had been crying for more than an hour now. “Fine Babes, if you don’t want to hear, then at least let me show it you.” He took my bag from my hand and closed the bedroom door. We talked all night and I mean all night. Before we slept, I said “Jay, I’d make my decision tomorrow morning, let my heart rest now. This is too much for one night” As he left my room to sleep in the guest room, my eyes red and puffy, my nose red and congested, I said a prayer

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; Jackie is my sister, I cannot change that... courage to change the things I can; I can make this marriage work and I can make Jay love me... and wisdom to know the difference. Would I rather a life without Jason Duvall, or would I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

I’m 50yrs old now; I have 3 lovely daughters and 1 adorable son. My life is golden and I live with my husband in our dream home. I still talk to my sister; in fact, we’re inseparable and life with her as been awesome. I have been married for… …25yrs, and my life has been golden. My name is Felicia Duvall.

The end.

#LoveYourLife

PITCH BLACK COLORED

The Human Body has 5 senses, taste, hearing, smell, touch & sight. When one fails, it feels like it has 6.

As I lay in bed, eyes wide shut, I hold on tight to the visions of my past. The visions of when… when… sigh! I wished the visions would stop, things have changed now. My life is different now and I have come to accept it. Nothing can change it, it cannot be undone. My name is Marcus Dorman, and I am… special.

I was 31 at the time, living with my elder brother in the house our mother left for us. God bless her soul. It was a warm September evening and most of the town people were in the old great hall right in the middle of town. I didn't want to go not because I couldn't, but because I’d rather not. I stayed back and was up in my room listening to Top 100 Masterpieces of Classical Music as far back as the 16^th century. They had all become my friends… Mozart, Beethoven, Handel, Bach to mention a few. I could hum almost all their classical music collection and I knew who played what just by listening. I loved classical music and wondered what inspired them. Boy would I love to meet them one day.

I sat in room with a cup of cocoa my brother had made; he makes the best hot chocolate known to man. I can distinctly differentiate the use of powdered milk from liquid milk. I know when he rushed to make it and when he had all the time in the world, but every cup was too perfection. I loved my brother, very understanding, very patient. The hot chocolate and bee like movement of the clarinet from the classical music were all I needed that night. My mind wandered to the old great hall and I could picture my brother trying to talk to Mr. Huckleberry’s daughter, he has had eyes on her since they were both young, but sadly she’s not into guys who are all ripped and built. My brother is athletic unlike me. Me? I’m just average, not that I cannot work out, I mean I used to, but not anymore. I… I simply can’t.

Still in my room I could hear the music faintly from behind the buildings, that’s how I knew where east was, I remember the old great hall was east from my Mother’s house. Apart from the faint music, the street was particularly quiet. A few cars went by every now and then and I knew it must have been some minutes past 11pm as I heard the honking from Mrs. Benjamin’s old pick-up truck as it pulled up to her gate. She was always on time. Always home by 11pm as her shift ends by 10:30pm daily. She was a nurse at the general hospital. Very nice lady Mrs. Benjamin, have met her a few times. I made my way to the back door and locked up, my brother had his own keys and would let himself in. I turned off the lights as the switch was right next to the stairs… and then I followed the sound of the violin back to my room. As I entered I whispered “Thanks Mozie’!” Mozart was always there for me. I took a deep breath as I lay in bed waiting for sleep to come. I fought hard to not let my mind wander, to not let the visions come back, but each day that goes by, the fighting becomes more futile. Eyes wide shut, I let Mozart ease me gently into sleep, the visions usually made me teary eyed, but I… I've learned to keep the tears in and accept them. Slowly I drifted as I distinctly separated the faint music coming from the old great hall and music coming from the 17^th century.

Sleep came and I was grateful to dream again, ‘cause dreaming made it all go away.

I don’t know how long I had slept for or what time is was exactly, but I knew it must have been past 3am, because the music from the old great hall had stopped and my brother had mentioned the party would end about 3 at the latest. I wasn't expecting him back till morning anyway as my brother always had extracurricular activities. I was wakened by movement downstairs, strange?! Could it be Dave my brother? I sat up and tried to wear my slippers as I heard the sound of breaking plates in the kitchen. Shit! Was he drunk and falling over things? Dave doesn't drink? He is a fitness and health freak. I moved closer to the door and opened it slightly to get a better understanding of what the devil was going on downstairs. I heard footsteps and… and… voices… 3… maybe more. I quickly stumbled across the hall way to my brother’s room. His door had a more sturdy lock and also he had a window that opened up the living room below. I crouched by the window as I speed dialed Dave. His phone rang, but I couldn't hear it ringing from within the house. He wasn't inside the house. I let it ring out… voice mail. “Hi sorry I can’t take your c-” I cut the call. Definitely 3 men were in the house. We were being robbed. I tried to make out movements and what they were up to… one was drunk or very intoxicated as he was laughing and snickering and constantly being checked by the ring leader. A male, late twenties I reckon. His voice wasn't as commanding and I could tell he was nervous from the way his voice squeaked as he tried to check the other drunken member. They ransacked the living room, pulling appliances from the wall and shelves. I had to do something. I crawled back to the hall way and knocked over a bin as I was trying to get back to my room. I heard them stop in silence. My heart raced. “I thought you said the house was empty?” the ring leader interrogated one of the other robbers. Dammit! I moved faster and slammed the down, no point being discrete. I tried to call my brother again, but I couldn't find my phone. I had left it in his room. I crouched absolutely still in the closet as I heard footsteps on the stairs, the steps squeaked as they came upstairs, it was an old house. For the first time I appreciated the squeaking. One of the men was definitely heavier than me, as the squeaking was much more high pitched. Two of them were coming upstairs, as I listened for the harmony of the stairs as they approached. They entered my room, stood still. My heart raced as I held my chest trying to shield the thumping of my heart. It was deafening. The closet door was yanked up and I was dragged out with my hair. I was thrown against the wall as he choked me. He asked if there was anyone else in the house. His breath ricked of alcohol. He had been drinking. As he rustled me up, I took a mental note of what he was wearing as I refused to open my eyes. He wore a blazer, jeans, a metal watch, leather shoes and he had short hair and was slightly taller than me as my toes stood on his shoes as he lifted me. I could tell he was frightened and this was his first time. He was of medium build as his biceps weren't too small or too big. As Mozart played away, contrasting the chaos I was experiencing I distinctly noted one thing… nicotine. He chewed nicotine gum. From beneath the stench of wine and beer, I could distinctly pick out the smell. I knew what brand it was even, as I had also chewed nicotine gum to quit smoking. I smiled gently and this angered him. He hit me in the gut and I fell. I was dragged downstairs to the living room as he questioned me to reveal what valuables were in the house. As I heard my phone ringing up stairs, it was Dave calling; I had a personal ringtone for him, I knew help was on the way. I just had to stay alive. They searched my room and Dave’s room and broke into my mother’s room. I tried to tell them that she had long passed and that room was a sanctuary, but was only dished with a few more slaps. The last slap met my cheek bone. Good. He wore a ring… noted.

After about 6 mins, cause the old clock chimed on the hour and I started counting, they left. Before that, I had tried not to open my eyes throughout the ordeal and swore that I hadn't seen their faces. I pleaded and swore with my life that I hadn't seen any faces and that I wasn't going to call the police. As they left and promised me death should I point them out, I lay on the floor sweating. As I heard their car pull away, I knew it was over. I tried to move but my body ached all over. Mozart was still playing upstairs.

Barely 5 mins after they left, Dave came dashing in, followed closely by a young lady, her perfume was sweet smelling. As I narrated the story to my brother as he cleaned and nursed my wounds, I ended by saying “I know who did it.” He asked was I sure, I smiled and said “Pretty darn sure!” I gave him a description of the ring leader and suggested he must have been at the party at the old great hall. Dave knew who it was from all the detailed and precise info I gave and immediately the young lady whispered “Oh dear God! Dave… it was Frank!”

Frank was best friends to Shaun. Shaun was the younger brother of the lady whose perfume was more soothing that my brother’s gentle hands. Shaun was the 3^rd member of the gang, the drunken one. Shaun knew Dave was with his sister and wouldn't be home, but didn't know I existed. She asked “But how positive are you Marcus? I mean… you’re… you know!?”  I replied… 

“I haven’t always been like this my dear. I may be blind now… but I’m not stupid!”

The end.

#LoveYourLife

8.

Robert Plutchik's Theory states that there are 8 types of human emotions.

It all began the morning of my 21st birthday. Oh I was delighted... had friends coming over, my favorite cousins had spent the night so the fun began from the day before. Most importantly though, the love of my life was finally going to be allowed to enter the house. It was my birthday anyway, my Mother had let her guard down and everyone seemed to be on the same page "Make Samantha Happy". The party was to start at 2PM, everything was in order. Food, drinks, music, friends, family, everything. Nothing seemed to be going wrong. I was happy. Smiling like a fat kid in a candy store, the love shown to me wasn't strange, but I guess the consistency that morning was a bit... overwhelming. The laughter. The smiles. The fun...

The Joy.

Party kicked into gear about half 3 and food and drinks were clearly in abundance. My closest friends arrived first and we had spent almost an hour dressing up and making sure we all looked the part. I felt special. I checked the time intermittently as my love was yet to arrive. Not to worry, some of his friends were already here, so I was all but certain he would be there. I checked on my Mother regularly too, to feel her pulse and make sure the party wasn't at risk of being shut down by her being upset about something, but to my delight, she was more than happy to be the "Host Mother". Not even the breakage of a few tumblers could sway her mood. She asked "Is he here yet?". A split second of shock quickly turned to anxiety as she had never asked after him before or even accepted the fact that he existed in my life as my boyfriend. I guess it was because it was my birthday and well... I am 21 now so yea... . I replied "Not yet Mum, You'd be the first to know.". As I pulled away from her, my stomach rumbled like a dozen crocodiles death rolling a carcass at the same time. I couldn't breathe for a moment as I quickly downed the punch I had in my glass. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I had to keep an open mind, after all, she had taken the news pretty well and she seemed in a rare pleasant mood so far. I was satisfied that nothing would go wrong. The confidence. The belief. The faith...

The anticipation.

I checked my watch, 6:15PM, why wasn't he here yet? I was beginning to get worried. Not only worried that he wouldn't show up, but more worried I would look like a fool in front of my friend's and most especially my Mother. I wasn't able to reach him on his cell phone and my close friends saw right through my smile that I was worried. I poured another glass of punch and had ordered the waiter to make it stronger, I thought if I could drink to a point, my nerves would be calmer. This is when my day started going south. I went to the garden for some fresh air and sat right in the middle, equilibrium from both fences and I had a perfect vantage point from where I could see the entire span of the party. Adults to the left, young adults to the right. I could see the main gate as well and saw everyone who was going in and out. The dance floor was busy, I forced a smile seeing my friends trying to mock me on the dance floor. Then I saw a friend of my boyfriend walking up to me. I quickly pulled myself together trying hard to hide my worry. "Hey!" he said. "Hi Phillip... having fun?" I replied. "Yea, but the big question is... are you?" he asked. I looked at him and downed my punch. "Never better.". The lies. The shame. The disappointment...

The disgust.

From then on, nothing seemed to matter. I let myself go. Dancing like I had a gun to my head and remote sensors were attached to my shoes and the trigger, which would set the trigger off should my feet stop moving. I drank like a dehydrated camel and no one could stop me. Pictures I was shown after the party told a story even I had a hard time believing. To cut the long story short... he didn't show up. Danny, my love, my lover, the one I had literally thrown this party for... let me down. It's funny right? How I let him get to me so much that I totally lost it right? Yea well... I had plans for that day. The big unveiling for my Mother, the marking of territory to my friends, and the absolute PR I would gain from kissing my boyfriend right after cutting my cake. The gist would spread no doubt and I wanted it to reach both our exes if it could. Petty maybe, but I was in Love. Yea, none of that was going to happen now. He broke my heart. I hated him for it. I wished he was there so badly now. Not for the plans I had, but for the fact I wanted to inflict pain on him the way he did my heart. The deceit. The betrayal. The rage...

The anger.

I was devastated. I found myself at the same spot in the garden. Same vantage point, same view, same perspective, same glass, same punch, different emotions. I was weak. Ridden with heartbreak and brewing with revenge. The party was rounding up, in fact, it was pretty much over. Cleaners sweeping to the right, cousins and best friends and a few Aunts to the left. I could see my mother. Her mood was the same, high spirit, all smiles. Which sacred me though, because I knew she had a few things to say to me once everyone was done. Wasn't sure exactly what it'll be, but I knew I was gonna receive a tongue lashing. Dammit! It was all Danny's fault. How could he? I hated him so much. I hated the fact I loved him so much. I had to pay him back, couldn't just let him off so easily. I finished what was left in my glass, looked up that's when I saw Phillip walking up to me the second time.
The realization. The revenge. The pain...

The sadness.

Don't remember much from after the garden. At this point I had laced my blood vessels with enough alcohol that everything was a blur. I remember snippets of things that happened from then on. I remember checking my watch and seeing 11:30-ishPM. I remember smoking a cigarette, I didn't know I could smoke. I remember walking down the street. I remember seeing my Mom calling on my phone, don't remember if I picked up or not. I remember sticking my head out the passenger window of a car as the night breeze caressed my face, think it was a blue Mercedes, or was it black? I remember being naked. I remember being kissed. I remember making out. I remember... ... ... Phillip?! The memories. The questions. The truth...

The fear.

What had I just done? Good job Samantha, give yourself a pat on the back. You have just made out with the friend of your boyfriend, or should it be ex-boyfriend, cause surely the relationship would be over once Danny finds out, and he will. The devil wouldn't let such a thing go uncovered. I had messed up. Or had I? I spent a few more hours with Phillip in the car, don't remember how long we were sitting naked at the back of the car, but when the burn of a flash light triggered my medulla oblongata, I knew I was in big trouble. "Good morning M'am, could you please put your clothes on and step out of the vehicle?" the Officer said. We tried to wake Phillip up, no avail. He was gone. The cigarette I thought I was smoking happened to be the "other" type of smoke. I knew this when I was charged with possession of narcotics. The Officer finally got Phillip up and we both entered the back of the police car as we were clearly to intoxicated to drive. We drove back towards my house and my heart raced as my brain picked up landmarks which signified I was getting closer to mine. Police lights illuminated the street blue and red as a second Police car waited outside my house. There... I could see her... my Mother, drenched with tears, infuriated with disbelief, seaming with pure incandescent disrespect. I was gonna get it. As my house opened up more as I approached, I could see him... standing next to my mother, Danny. My eyes light up for half a second, then it closed slowly with shame. I got out of the car and was greeted with yelling from my Mother. She was angry yes, but more so worried as her voice quivered with worry. Her voice breezed past my ears as I walked slowly towards Danny. He had a bunch of roses and a gift bag with the words "Sorry I'm late, but I am here now." written on the side. I couldn't take it from him. I looked straight at him and walked past him into the house without looking back. I was tired and exhausted and my synapses weren't firing properly I needed to sleep. Danny had been late because of my birthday present. His sister was bringing it from England and her flight had been delayed, and Danny would NOT come empty handed. I opened it the morning after as my mother had left it on my bed. It was... the most beautiful pearl necklace I had even seen, it still is. My tear duct erupted as I was fighting a losing battle to keep it under control. The present. The perfection. The thought...

The surprise.

Yea, just as you expected, Danny and I broke up and well... that was the last party birthday I threw in my house for a long time. In fact, we haven't had another party of such magnitude on my street since my 21st birthday. I'd be 26 shortly, and my Mother and I... we cool. I know this cause she takes care of my baby. She'll be 5 soon, she looks just like her father. I love it and I hate it that she does though. I love it because well, she's my baby and she's the most adorable thing I've ever laid my eyes on. She's smart and she likes music, so maybe a duo with her and Blu is in order? I'd love to sit next to Beyonce as both our babies win Grammies. #wishfulthinking And I hate it cause she reminds me so much of her Father... Phillip, and Phillip reminds me of my 21st Birthday, and my 21st Birthday reminds me of Danny. Danny didn't speak to me for almost 4yrs, but now we civil. I look back and still think about the life I might have had with Danny and I wonder if I had just been able to reach him before self destructing we'd probably still be together. His battery died by the way, he had been at the airport waiting for his sister for hours. He sent me a card on my 25th birthday and a letter he ended with "How's the baby?". I knew what he was trying to do but I smiled. It's painful sometimes when I think of that day, but now, my baby makes it all go away. I love her and she loves me. I have another boyfriend presently and he seems sincere. He talks about marriage and children and he loves my baby. I have learned a lot since that day, and most especially I've learned to be patient. The past. The baby. The boyfriend...

The trust.

The end.

12HRS APART "A Story Of Destiny."

6:00AM

HE wakes to the sound of a neighbor's generator. Power is out. HE wonders why the heat didn't wake him, HE's grateful it didn't as HE hadn't slept well in a couple of days. A lot has been on his mind.

...

SHE is already awake, been up for about 15mins. SHE is used to waking up early these days as SHE has come to believe in morning devotion. SHE has never really been a religious person, but SHE has always respected the word of God and it's teachings. SHE prays for peace of mind, little did SHE know her prayers were already answered.

7:00AM

HE is still deep in thought as HE hears the world around him switch into gear. HE's not in a hurry, HE works for himself, but is slowly getting discouraged by "Bread & Butter" lifestyle. HE wants to move up, to expand, to start a Family. HE is ready.

...

SHE is getting ready to take a shower, SHE has a few places to go, a few people to see, SHE cant wait. SHE has been promised a job, a chance to work and get paid. SHE is excited.

8:00AM

HE rustles around the kitchen, wondering what HE'll eat, HE is tired of noodles and bread and boiled eggs. There is nothing. HE sighs. Hates himself for spending all that money on Hennessy and Power Horse the other night and the club, HE can bet his last dollar the club owners are having a full English breakfast, that's if HE even has a dollar to bet with. Bastards.

...

SHE sits in her bedroom, going over her proposal and generally basking in her anxiety. SHE sips tea as SHE generally checks for mistakes and ways SHE can improve on her write up. Her phone rings, its her Mother. SHE picks up.

9:00AM

HE is about to finish his work out session. HE loves looking good, that's the one thing HE prides himself for, his looks. Even though HE cant seem to be happy in a relationship, HE is a peace that its definitely not his looks that is the missing factor.

...

SHE is in tears as SHE tries to send a text message.

10:00AM

HE decides to drive out to look for something to eat. HE knows a joint close-by, HE doesn't mind their food, especially because it's cheap. HE grabs his phone and wears his flip-flops. His iPad flashes "1 New Email". It can wait. Hunger comes first.

...

SHE is standing at a bus-stop, dark glasses and a little less coordinated than she would have hoped. There is nothing SHE can do at this point, SHE has to go for her meeting. SHE wipes a tear as SHE tries to pull herself together.

11:00AM

HE is suddenly feeling good about today, HE didn't bother to drive back home after breakfast. There wasn't any power anyways and HE didn't buy diesel to power the generator. HE casually cruises to the next district, probably to see a buddy. HE is distracted by his phone as HE tries to change the song playing. HE nearly hits a pedestrian. His heart races as HE slams his brakes. Before HE could come out to apologize, the pedestrian dashes off hysterically.

...

SHE almost gets hit by a car.

12:00AM

HE is sitting with his friend on the edge of his car outside a mall. HE zones out repeatedly to the image of the young lady HE almost ran over an hour ago. HE is abruptly brought back to reality as his friend taps his shoulder. HE laughs in agreement. HE wasn't listening.

...

SHE casually strolls on the side walk. Her mind completely severed from its body. SHE cannot seem to understand why her world just came crumbling down exactly 4hrs ago. Her Father was no more. Her mother wakes beside his lifeless body, he had a heart-attack during the night.

1:00PM

HE is still at the mall. HE has structured his meeting for the day at that location, HE knows how driving in Lagos can be. HE decides to pull away from the car park and have a drink in bar in the mall. A cold beer should calm his nerves, plus the sun was in full effect anyways.

...

SHE sits quietly by the bar. Her younger sister works her, SHE contemplates how SHE would tell her the sad news. SHE cannot believe it. SHE doesn't even care about the job interview SHE just flunked. SHE wasn't going to get it anyways, the boss just wanted to sleep with her. SHE figured it out 10mins into the interview. Bastard.

2:00PM

HE has been in the bar / lounge for an hour now. Successfully rounded up one meeting but decides to hang around. HE is not in a hurry. HE is a bachelor and besides, HE is always welcome here. The owner is his friend. HE gets up to order another drink by the bar. The owner is there too behind the bar, he seems to be engaging a young lady who is by the bar. HE thinks to himself "Perv!", the bar owner has a reputation with women. HE goes to interrupt in a bid to try to play hero for this damsel in distress.

...

SHE is listening to the bar owner console her loss. He and her father were good friends and he has always been good to the family. Its no surprise her younger sister works here. SHE is grateful for his words as SHE learns her sister would not be coming in. The bar owner gave her the week off, she already knows about her Dad. An over-zealous Aunt had called her 5hrs ago. It was no wonder she wasnt picking her calls. SHE wonders if her sister even got the text SHE sent. SHE is distracted from her line of thought as a young man interrupts her conversation with the owner.

3:00PM

THEY sit quietly in a reserved area of the lounge. HE knew her father. HE had received an email about his death 5hrs ago, HE hadn't opened it, but HE knew her father. Her father was his client. SHE is feeling better now, words of comfort had poured in and SHE finds a safe haven in the fact that HE had also lost both parents earlier that year. SHE is grateful that HE is there. HE is not in a hurry to depart from her side. SHE needs him. HE needs her. THEY both don't know why. THEY would soon find out.

4:00PM

THEY share some finger foods from the lounge. SHE knows SHE has to leave soon and make plans to take her sister to Abuja to be with the rest of the family. SHE has been in close contact with her mom and her sister over the past hour. SHE is the head of the family now. SHE knows what lies ahead. HE cannot help but wonder what HE can do to help. SHE looks so sad as HE watches her pick the chicken wings. HE remembers her from the "almost" accident scene. HE doesn't tell her yet. That information doesn't matter just yet. SHE laughs. HE looks up and asks surprisingly, silently glad that SHE is laughing. SHE narrates how SHE almost got hit a by a car a few ago and how SHE can imagine the trauma her mother would have gone through to learn that SHE also had passed a few hrs after her father. SHE laughs at the thought. THEY both know its really not funny.

5:00PM

THEY both exit the lounge and head to the car park. HE unlocks his car with the remote. SHE sees the car. SHE remembers it. THEY both stare at each other. HE is in chaos as to what to say. SHE breaks the silence "It was you!". As HE tries to explain, SHE begins to apologize for being absent minded whilst crossing and her mind was on how she would tell her sister about their father. HE stops her and argues that HE was on his phone and it was his fault. THEY stand in silence. THEY know.

6:00PM

HE sits on his couch, mind totally on his day. HE was able to buy diesel so the generator is on. HE worries about how SHE is doing. HE gave her his number and intentionally did not collect hers. It wasn't one of those "Babe by Bar" scenarios. HE was tired of those anyway. HE unlocks his iPad and reads his emails, its from a close friend in Abuja, telling him what he already knew. Now HE wishes HE took her number, so he can call and check on her. His phone rings, HE doesn't recognize the number. HE picks up. HE smiles.

...

SHE just stepped out of the shower. Feels a whole lot better. SHE knows SHE is still going to cry, but for now SHE is a whole lot better. SHE puts the kettle on, SHE is definitely going to bed early tonight. SHE pulls out her bible and prepares for bedtime. SHE sits and stares at a photo of her Dad and her Mum. A tear escapes her right eye. SHE wipes it. SHE hears a whisper as cool breeze sweeps her bedroom, "It's ok!". SHE knows its her father. SHE wipes her face with her towel and picks her phone. SHE dials from a business card in her hand. The call connects. SHE smiles.

...

THEY both know.

...

HER father smiles in heaven and he looks left and right at both HIS parents.

...

The END.

The Curious Case Of Dating 101

It has been said, that 'Knowledge is Power', true yes, but in Dating 101, 'Knowledge ISN'T Power', it's ur Achilles' Heel. This course that many of us have carried over since it became compulsory, which is literally since ones first encounter with the opposite sex. This course that many of us still fail, even though we have the expo, the answers to the questions, the marking sheet in some rare scenarios. We have everything we need to get an A+, yet, we struggle to make even an E.

Lemme explain... from a Guy's point of view.

'Knowledge ISN'T Power'. Yes, I tend to believe that, especially in this Course Dating 101, for u see, the more u know, the less u progress. The more knowledge u acquire, the greater the task of achieving ur goal. Not knowing in this course, is inevitably ur greatest strength. I've lost u haven't I? *content smile*

To understand me, u have to go back... to being A CHILD, to being a 5yr old to be exact. In Dating 101, a 5yr old boy, is more likely to have fun on his first date, than a 35yr old man on his first date. The 30yrs worth of knowledge that separates these two people, is the major Achilles' Heel.

A 5yr old boy has absolutely nothing to worry about. He doesn't even know if he likes the girl. He doesn't  know what like even is. He doesn't know the girl's name, what she does, where she lives, what her father does, what kind of perfume she might like, what she thinks of him, what he thinks of her, what her lips'll taste like, where to take her for dinner, what her friends think of him, what she thinks of his outfit, whether she'll like to see him again, whether he is impressing her or making a complete ass of himself, whether his breathe smells funny or if she'll mind if he farts. He doesn't mind if she's short or tall, light skinned or dark skinned, dark hair or blonde hair, busty or not, ass for days or pelvic for weeks, rich or poor, supports Man Utd or supports Arsenal. HE DOESN'T EVEN CARE THAT SHE'S A VIRGIN!!!!!!! All he knows is his basic animal instinct, and quite frankly, that's about all he needs. He moves in for a kill and all that matters to this 5yr old child, is the fact that he and this other 5yr old girl or maybe even 6yr old girl are in the same place at the same time!!!! And for as long as his mother doesn't pull him away, he will go at it till he's hungry or falls asleep, he will enjoy is FIRST DATE. He doesn't have to worry about saying good-bye or even calling her the next day or sending her a ping, he just... goes home.

Now on the other hand, a 35yr old man... ... would probably enjoy himself, eventually, but not before he as aged from over calculating his moves and hers too. Whilst he is sitting there, he's planning his next move, and he has totally not listened to a word she has said for the past 10mins.

The 5yr old boy wouldn't get ass at the end of the day, but by Jupiter he'll have a blast! He will enjoy himself with absolute peace of mind.

In Dating 101, 'Knowledge ISN'T Power', it's a distraction!

I sat at a fast food parlour the other day and I couldn't help but over hear some guy, talking to this chic. It didnt take long before I realized it was a 'first date', cause he kept saying "Why have u been running from me?", "I thank God u have my time today!", and "I've been trying to take u out for a while now!" ... ... and I sat there n thought to myself "Guy, enough with the I-don-catch-u-today speech!". And just at that moment, I saw something remarkable, a mother walked in with her 5yr old boy (I asked) and he spotted another 5yr old girl (I asked too) and immediately went up to her and they gelled like Ember Creek burger, large fries and a packet of apple juice.

The older u become, the harder it is to enjoy ur first date. The older u are, the more the first date becomes a formality, whereas as a young guy, the first date is a privilege. The younger u are, the more likely u are to have a blast and guess what? U can have a blast everyday with a different babe but the same methodology. Aint life as a kid just grand?

It's a curious case.

A very Curious Case of Dating 101.

Pic of the day: Father and Son by 5ive28 Photos.

Time Waits For No Man, But It Waits For Women.

It's 6pm on a Friday evening, blackberry devices around Lagos are beeping to a harmony, friends are communicating the plans for tonight. It's a woman's birthday. Plans have been made prior to this date and everyone involved has cleared their schedule to make time to come out and celebrate with a friend. Men are involved too, gathering intel from other men as to how the night is going to go. Those without cars would have to shotgun with those that do. The woman in question, the celebrant is in tight correspondence with the men that have cars as to how her fellow women would be picked up. All is going well, and the song that plays in my head is "I've gotta a feeling... that tonight's gonna be a good night!"

8:31pm, the final round of confirmations and last minute adjustments are made. The woman needs more cars, her friends have invited their friends. The intel gets to me at 8:35pm, I acknowledge my team leader and plan my pick up strategy. The pick up location is slightly off my route, but I didnt mind cause at least I wasnt picking up guys. The more girls, the better the party. The song in my head changes "We need some more girls in here... too many men too many many men!"

10:02pm, my team leader sends me an intel on my spy kit.

Team Leader - Boyfriend or Husband of the woman celebrating her birthday
Intel - Blackberry Messenger Message or a Text Message
Spy Kit - Blackberry Device or iPhones Only.

As I read the intel am slightly struck with mixed feelings, the intel reads:

[Change of plans. All Tangos are at HQ.]

Tango - Friend of the woman or any female in general that would be partying with us tonight.
HQ - Head Quarters or house of the woman. (HQ changes for specific missions)

And so, my mixed feelings are strong and it's because I've been down this road before. I should be pleased I dont have to go off route to pick up Tangos, but for some reason, I just dont seem thrilled. And as the night went on, I'd soon rediscover what I already knew. The song in my head changes again "Who runs the world? Girls! Who runs this motherf*cker? Girls!"

11:00pm, I take a shower, freshen up, get half dressed and relax as I try to finish up Season 1 of Game Of Thrones. I send an intel to my Team Leader...

[Agent M standing by. Systems are a go. Awaiting orders. Over.]

He replies...

[Copy that Agent M. Hold position. Over.]

I reply...

[Roger that Team Leader.]

And then I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

As a gemini, time n I arent always on good terms, it's either am too early, or too late. But never on time. But tonight, I was early and ready. And waiting became painful.

12:06am, Team Leader calls me, we were rolling out. Plan was simple, I meet him up at his and then we (all the guys) convoy to HQ to pick the Tangos. It was a simple pick up mission. All logistics had been worked out, we knew exactly how many they were and who would enter who's car. We had done this numerous times and we were good at it.

12:17am, I arrive at Team Leader's house. I was the last to arrive due to my location. I didnt need to get out of the car. I honked, flashed, put on my double pointers and the convoy moved. The song in my head changes again "In a Ferrari n jaguar switching four lanes, top down screaming out MONEY AINT A THANG!"

12:30am, we arrive at HQ. Now for some reason, I dont know why I expected the ladies to be outside the gate waiting and even vexing that we made them wait, till now, as I write this, I still dont know why I expected that. Well am sure u know already that that wasnt the case.

They werent ready yet. *car engines go off, street lights follows, darkness covers HQ, cold wind blows*

The song in my head changes "Dont piss me off!"

As the sweat trickled down my temple, I stood next to the Team Leader, trying to understand the scenario before us. The questions that flooded my mind were...
1. Didnt they know we were coming?
2. I thought they gave the green light at 12:06am?
3. What on earth were they still doing?
4. Isnt this a yearly event, isnt this a birthday, didnt they have one year notice?
5. They decided to meet at HQ right? Wasnt that intended to save time n energy?
6. Were they taking it in turns to get dressed whilst the other cheered and approved?
7. Didnt the celebrant say she wanted ALL BLACK? How hard was the dress choice?
8. No really didnt they know we were coming?
9. Is there gonna be a red carpet at the club?
10. We doing what we did last yr right? So how difficult is it to go through the same notions and be at gate as we arrived?
11. Mofe how ever did u expect them to be at the gate waiting?
12. Can we leave them and they take a cab?
13. Seriously though, DIDNT THEY KNOW WE WERE COMING???

And then it hit me. I looked at my watch, 1:36am. A gave a glance to my Team Leader and I knew we were playing the same song in our heads "If u call African woman woman she no go gree, she go saaaaaaay, she go say she be Lady oh!"

As I walked back to my car defeated, I knew exactly why I had mixed feelings at 10:02pm.

On a closing, here's my theory: The Number of Tangos in a specific location at any time (T), is directly proportional to the time taken for them to be ready and dressed.


Time Waits For No Man, But It Waits For Women.

Pic of the day: Hossam & Ruby by Mofe Duncan.

Fear of the Weekend

Since the economic meltdown, things have been a bit tight financially. And am not talking about individuals only, many Nations have suffered. Nigeria is without subsidy, America is owing China & even Brazil has stopped exporting Human Hair. "Times are hard!" seems to be the raining catch phrase. And even Uncles and Aunts u once loved visiting because of the occasional transport fare are no longer available. Everyone seems to be going to Abuja more often. I saw an Aunt of mine at an occasion once, called her 3mins after, and suddenly she's in Abuja?! But I wasn't upset, 'cause I know "Times are hard!".

I thank God though, for the dogmatic resilient nature of we Nigerians, we always seem to find a crack in the system, that Never say Die spirit has made us a force to be reckoned with in any economic circumstance. And it seems, the lower u are on the financial stability ladder, the more "adapt" u are to finding a crack in the system, a life-line, a little self-deviced method of making money. Even the crippled guy I ran into yesterday was tryna sell me a pack of handkerchiefs. He said "Bros I no dey beg u money, but abeg help me buy!" ...and I thought "Dude u just begged me!". Again I didnt get upset, cause the economy is bad and at least he's tryna make an honest living.

So down went the economy and up went the hustle.

AND THE HUSTLE AFFECTS EVERYONE...

As an entertainment person, I am part of the unemployed population, which means I am a contract staff of my clients. That is they need a service, I provide it, I get paid, everyone's happy. But since the subsidy has been removed, contract staffs like me suffer. Clients need a service, I provide, I dont get paid. It's either, the person in charge has gone to Abuja (...again) or Madam hasnt signed or Oga is yet to approve the invoice or the tropical storm has affected the bank or some other fairy tale. And this has become the norm. Do I quit? Never! I still push on, hustle the week out and look forward to the weekend where I can watch Arsenal or play Call of Duty on my playstation or go watch a movie with friends or dance azonto in Caliente, but not anymore. Why? Cause I am suffering from WEEKENDOPHOBIA!!!!!

Weekendophobia - Fear of the weekend.

I know what u're thinking, how did I come up with such a name right? Well, am a Gemini, it comes naturally. *dusts shoulder*

Those of u who arent so distracted by that word would be thinking "Why would anyone be afraid of the weekend?" well, I'd tell u...

U see, it's not all the time one gets a major hit whilst working as a contract staff, sometimes u get little hits that'll just help with ur fuel for the week or ur BIS if it's the end of the month or maybe a movie if u're craving a dark room and popcorn whilst snuggling with ur love interest, and then u'd save the rest or just hold it as vex money or incase-shit-happens money, but these days... *sigh* I cant do that u see, because EVERY WHERE I GO, u have all these security men, janitors (most annoying) and car park security men (they're the worst) asking u the same bloody question "Big Bros, anything for weekend?" or they say the most obviously psychotic one "Big Bros, na weekend we dey!" ... And am thinking to myself "...Wait! Did he just call me stupid??" Like I dont f*cking know that its weekend. WHAT THE... @#$%&?!!!

The order of most annoying are as thus: Security Men < Janitors < Car Park Security.

Security Men, I can all but tolerate cause I prolly just walk past n say "I dey come!", the Janitors... oooh the Janitors, bloody annoying. Cause they'll be hailing u whilst u're eff-ing taking a leak. I mean what the hell??? Can I pee in peace?? And then finally, the dreaded dementors, sent to earth to rid me of every last ounce of joy the weekend may have brought me, they drain the happiness I earned myself from some money making after a long hard week, they exhume the sensation I just received from watching Immortals in 3D, they are the Car Park Security. *lighting n thunder* They do this by following me to my car, standing around me, and even preventing me from shutting my door. ... *tears hair out* CAN I FREAKIN' LEAVE PLEASE???

These 3 categories of sadist have all but infected me with the Fear of the Weekend aka Weekendophobia.

*breathes fire*
*breathing heavily*

Pic of the day: Fire Breather by Mofe Duncan (Taken for Mardi Gras Collection for Club Caliente)

'Essence of Eve' or 'Essence of Steve'?

As a full grown man, standing at 6'4", with a waistline of 42" and a chest size of 52". Sleeve length is 38in, 2 inches longer than regular, and with a shoe size of 13.5 US, it's no surprise I like my woman to be full bodied. Average height is right up my street, but if she's 5'11" with a full bodied structure, I'd take it.

As I grew older, I found myself gravitating naturally towards full bodied women. No matter how fine she was, if I could see her collar bone, she was out. Those things just distract me. Now please, dont mis-quote me, aint nothing wrong with a slim damsel, just that, my spec, Id go for one with extra padding. And that's the basis of this particular post.

Growing up, as the last child, I was cuddled a lot and carried (well, also cause as a baby I was irresistible. *smug*) and that made me develop a certain likeness for softness. I could date a babe cause of her cheeks... (the thought alone makes me feel fuzzy), her soft arm or even her soft back, and that's exactly what I did. Nowadays, since women all over the world are going mad about being slim or having that perfect figure or getting into that perfect dress or being simply stunning in a wedding gown or having that extra 'umph' on a red carpet, they have proceeded to cutting their blood supply, restricting their air supply and making their aorta artery even narrower by wearing BODY MAGIC!!!!

[Images of various types of body magic scrolls for 10secs].

Yes, yes, most ladies would argue that 'Beauty is Pain', but why deprive use guys the luxury we once savored of hugging a babe at a gathering and feeling on her soft smooth lower back. And for a brief second, u imagine what it'll be like hugging her from behind or even pouring maple syrup down her spine. And after that thought has dissolved because u suddenly realize u're at a party and cant have ur manhood jump starting, u begin to bask in the euphoria of the ESSENCE OF EVE. But not anymore...

[Slow playing theme gotten from the soundtrack of Titanic stops abruptly]

These days, when I see a nice looking babe in a stunning dress, elegant like Gabrielle Union, graceful like Julia Roberts, and smelling like a bunch of daisies fresh from the yard, I begin to thank the Lord for making me a man, giving me the opportunity to experience the Essence of Eve for a brief moment as I hug her. But like I said, not anymore.

[Power goes out. Thick clouds block out the sun. Candles self ignite. Shadows dance across the walls and roof. Heavy evil laughter resonates from the beneath the ground.]

Since the discovery of Body Magic, more and more woman have forfeited their soft smooth lower back and waist line with a hard rough device they call Body Magic. They have decided to give up their Essence of Eve for that "perfect" body and make guys like me, who would rather feel the natural texture of a full bodied woman than the end product of 10 Chinese workers who earn $40 per month to make those damned Body Magic. They hinder me from taking what's rightfully mine, blocking me from my goal, restraining me from my added perks of coming to that party. Depriving me of the imaginations that make me accept my manhood. Preventing me from the shear euphoria of feeling her lower back and waist. The second I feel that hard God forsaken vest, I immediately regret hugging her and would rather have preferred imagining the maple syrup. It apparates me from that exact spot seconds before I hugged her to a place inside Fort Knox prison, surrounded by inmates high on their own jail muscles. It makes me lose the very core of my existence, that privilege bestowed on me by the Father in heaven to experience the raw Essence of Eve, and it replaces it with the vile experience of the ESSENCE OF STEVE.

[Sorrowful theme gotten from the soundtrack of the 8-2 defeat of Arsenal by the hands of Manchester United plays.]

Would I prefer a girl with a big tummy? Am sure that's what most of u are thinking. But I think the question is Would I still love my wife when she's 9months pregnant? Or more directly,


Would I prefer the ESSENCE OF EVE or the ESSENCE OF STEVE?

Pic of the day: Quakes & Arrows by Mofe Duncan. (Look at that lower back... 100% Essence of Eve)

Attack of The Goons

Okay before I continue to rant on for another 5mins, lemme u give a little slang lesson.

Goon (n) : A man or a young adult (male) who for some reason decides to venture into an unknown territory (i.e. one of obvious higher social class than his) and in an attempt to blend in, makes a complete mockery of himself. Examples: 
Men, just too many goons at liquid lounge yesterday. 
All these goons are just too many, we need some more girls in here.


 Now that's out of the way, down to business.

Without feeling superior to my fellow man, I'd like to say that I am getting continuously worried about the increasing number of goons that are sprouting out of no where. I mean, u can hardly go to a nice lounge without seeing at least 20. And am not even playing! And trust me, 20 is plenty. (Didn't mean to rhyme.)

I have been pretty quiet cause I've been having a couple of photoshoots and hence no time to blog, but am kinda thankful for the fact I had enough time to gather enough arsenal to campaign fully against the rising number of goons within the naija social standard. Now don't get me wrong, am not saying that I have never been a goon before oh! I mean, at some point during one's rise to the social peak, u must've experienced some degree of goon-ship, but u see, thank God for experience and exposure, at this stage in my life, I have developed a goon-radar, which alerts me when am about to be a goon. I also thank God for the opportunity to be involved in media, this also gives me the ability to goon-out (i.e. to change ones goon status within a 3min window). The act of gooning-out can be very complex, and if ill applied can revert one to a Zombie status.

Zombie (n) : A dead guy! Period.

Moving on...

So... during my busy schedule this past few days, I went for a friend's pool party. To take pics of course and have a few laughs and shit. Now on getting there, I learned that some other chic was also having a pool party, and my friends and I thought "Well, the more the merrier!". BAD MOVE! We soon discovered our firewall was breached, and we had no control over the influx of GOONS! (Dramatic, thriller soundtrack plays).

I spotted nothing less than 12 goons. Of the 12, 6 decided to swim, of which one had a swimming trunk (which slightly decreased his goon status but still kept him well within goon territory!) The others had... ... *long pause* ... *cringes as he replays images* ...had ...boxer shorts. The rest, ...I assume, ...u know, ...is history.

Now on a closing, cause I hate to take more than 5mins of ur time, I want u to picture this...
3 guys wearing cotton briefs, pretty much "see-thru" and another 2 wearing boxer shorts with the slit in front.

I AM STILL SCARRED BY THE IMAGES I SAW.

Have a goon free week!

Pic of the Day: Spot the Goon(s). 

To Boob or Not To Boob

What is it about the breasts of a full blown female that gets a man soo... zombie-ish? This question till tomorrow, baffles scientists.

A woman's weapon of choice, is her breasts. If she is lacking, she feels inadequate. That's if she isnt blessed with an ass of pure bliss, but if she is lacking in both, psychologically she becomes a minus. (Many girls would argue this point, but really u know am right!)

I have come across a number of females in my time, and I find myself more keen on the those who have a "bright future". And I know now why I cannot marry a skinny person. (No disrespect intended oooh!)

My description: The breasts of a full bodied woman, is her Weapon of Mass Seduction.

During my Lagos Hustle today, I stopped over at TFC to buy a chicken salad and 7up Free (Yes yes, laugh all u want! I am on a diet!) *drops_n_does_20_sit-ups*

So, I was at TFC and of course had to queue for a bit. Now whilst on the queue, I noticed a guy, rather unassuming standing next to me. He stood there and gazed at the screen just to the left of my position. He didnt blink much, neither did he move his head as he took a step forward as the queue got shorter. I watched him closely. His countenance was very... aloof. He placed his order, paid n turned around. I watched as he walked to the back of line where a busty lady was sitting. Gave her the package and change and without the slightest hint of gratitude she gets up and proceeds to the exit (I mean I met him there and watched him for close to 15mins, meaning he must've been standing for at least 20).

Was he a driver? No. A houseboy? Nope. A random guy doing a chesty babe a favour? Possible. A guy trying to impress a chesty babe? DING! DING!! DING!!! Correct. 10pts for me!

Yes ladies, I know what u're thinking, "there's nothing wrong with that" right? Not at all, if the babe isnt controlling the dude with 'em titties. Now if they had a connection of some sort, he would've glanced at her, said sometime or even signaled as he waited for his turn. Nothing. Instead he was glued to Davido on MTV.

And it gets worse. As the babe leaves, he follows her out and comes back 1min later to queue. She must've wanted something else.

To Boob or Not to Boob?

Pic of the day: Million by Mofe Duncan.