Tuesday, 23 June 2009

Is It A No Win Situation?

This issue is currently facing my family unit and I, it has been like a torn in my flesh for ages now. There was a time I thought I had it resolved but alas it is here again. Is this how we shall continue to live? I am on the verge of doing something drastic, but the last time I did, I lived to regret it, although I confess I had fun doing it.

I am having a hard time combing my bush and yet you say you want to grow one. Every other morning in the bathroom despite the rush hour, I take out time to apply head & shoulders shampoo and wonder why I never remember to buy a detangler. The other day, I had a comb with me and I combed out the afro looming beneath. Dried it, I combed it again and it looked, felt and smelt nice.

Alas, I couldn’t keep up with the routine so I have thus abandoned it to breed on its own without guidance. Now it is locked in a much untended manner. In my spare time, I use my fingers to untangle it and it more than necessary, turns out to be quite unpleasant leading to the introduction of the second hand for freedom. The twists and turns, stings and bites I suffer when I force them to unlock from the finely formed bond they have created with each other is something to write home about (as I have just done).

Sometime in the past while I was serving my nation, I proceeded on a certain action I call drastic and applied shaving powder, magic hair remover.

In a few minutes, I was clean like a baby, groin, sides, crotch and entire under all-encompassing. About a week later, it came to pass that I could barely walk; it felt like I had been attacked by a million and one termites, this specie of termites was called stubble.

Let your imagination go there. I couldn’t quite take a walk without having to stop and adjust my sac of jewels and rod of life, and then readjust again and again. It was an almost hopeless situation but for dusting powder, and the fact that my roommate was suffering a similar predicament.

Now, the dilemma is to shave or to trim, I am armed with a pair of scissors and clippers, but I have found not the time or space to execute the rescue mission. In a few days I will however, take this bull by the horns.

On the side, I wouldn’t terribly mind, a willing female stylist to engage me in a private shaving exercise, with of course a happy ending. Feel free to suggest, volunteer or nominate, or kuku apply in person.

Monday, 22 June 2009

Sometime Ago...

I didn’t read a book; I wasn’t writing one either
I slept in hotels; 5 star and no star inclusive
I flew in airplanes too frequently; some for no reason

There were countless paparazzis; I felt like Daniel Craig
It was scorching hot; I sweated like a Sallah ram
Planning was mismanaged; I was disenchanted
She had long smooth brown legs; Her number should be 36

I lay down on the floor and I got teary eyes
I read my comments with no time to reply
I made, moved and cancelled bookings
The blue monochrome was not a terrible outfit
I borrowed money and I wish I did not have to

I drove a 2009 model and wished it was mine
I had endless airtime & held my phone tightly
My moment of celibacy was not by choice

I felt it all, the joy and the pain
I am here now and I have mixed feelings

Friday, 5 June 2009

This Is Not A Rant

This is not a rant; I have said this before now

I would like to hear an audible reply when I speak to you

I would rather not repeat myself over & over

Mumbles and animal-like grunts won’t do

Once said is enough if you are wise

This is not a rant; don’t say you were not warned

I ask a question and you draw a blank

I can’t remember us having a fight

So I enquire if I was in soliloquy

Beware, no one plays that game better than me

This is not a rant, nor is it me being wild or impassionate

Absentmindedness is not a state of mind; it is a state of no mind

If you can get lost in your thoughts, so can I

Even children call out salutations, & you are not a newborn

I will not say this a third time, I will soon tit you for your tat

This is not a rant; and should not be seen as one

I detest it when you act like you are been cheated

We are two variables & this is not an equation

You will learn to do it yourself or pay the price

Forget your tears; it won’t help you this time

This is not a rant; I will not say it again