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.

Lagos Hustle

Since my car went bad sometime in December, I have been relegated to either taking a cab, or flying bike (popularly called OKADA). Now though it is rather stressful to commute, the experience has been humbling and I have a new found respect for those who do not have cars. I get to meet all sorts of cab drivers and make new friends (yes, I do collect their numbers, in case am within the vicinity of their parks), learn new stories, learn new routes (cab drivers always have an alternate route to beat traffic). All in all, it's an experience.

Now, out of the various I have met this past month, one always seems to top my priority list. His name? BABA MASHA. (Dramatic soundtrack plays for 5secs). Baba Masha is the cutest most aggressive cab driver u would ever come across. He has a babyface, but fears no one. He hustles bus drivers and even lorries, and has little or no regard for police officers The only thing he fears more... is red lights and traffic. (And that's why he's my first choice!)

But, today was kinda a down day for my ever faithful BABA MASHA... he was back of the pack today and for some reason, he smelled funny. So after spending 2hrs in traffic with the smell, my nose went into overdrive and I started smelling things wrongly. (leans in and sniffs laptop...) I smell cheese. *covers_face*

So, that's my Lagos hustle.

Pic of the day: Falomo Roundabout. By: Mofe Duncan.

Sporting Sunday

Okay, so... my Sunday was... rather successful sporting-wise. Djokovic won, and Arsenal came back from 2-0 to beat Villa 3-2. We needed the lift. *pauses* Isn't it funny how football fans say "we"... as though they are a part of the team. Weird hun? Once again Robin Van Persie steps up to save the day.

Anyways... after this blog, am gonna work on pictures and upload on my shutterchance page (www.mofeduncan.shutterchance.com). U should go check it out, u might find a pic u'd like.

Pic of the day: Tope Animashaun by Mofe Duncan.

Joke of the day: "Jokes about MENSTRUATION is not just funny. PERIOD!"

CHARITY

So I anchored another charity event today... damn! If I see charity, am gonna get all my money back. Initially I didnt think it'll be so bad, but when I got to the venue, I realized I had shot myself in the foot using Charity's 9mm.


I couldnt escape. I was in for it. Word had already gone round that I was gonna be there, and when my co-host didnt show up, I knew I was on my own.


To make things worse, the venue was at an old people's home, which didnt seem so bad at the start, when the DJ started playing old school high life music, I knew it was over.


Then to add to my f*cking beef with Charity, I was asked to donate for her cause again, after I was already anchoring the event for FREE!!!

Charity, where ever u are, u owe me money!!!




Pic of the day: DJ TTB, by MOFE DUNCAN.

Jan 26 2012

Okay, I just realized I can write whatever I like up in here and feel no remorse for whatever it is I say. So am just gonna free my mind and hope I dont cause any trouble.


Actually am kidding, my friend BecksTurner inspired this particular post. When am done boring u, u can pop over to her blog and have a few smiles. http://www.becksturner.blogspot.com .

I am into photograpghy, amongst other things. Tomorrow, am gonna tell u a secret... So stay tuned.

Becks Turner's Public Secrets: About Becks

Becks Turner's Public Secrets: About Becks: Well I have been told to right about myself as a part of my assessment in Uni so here goes... As you may know my name is Rebecca Turner aka...