My Other Day

Now rudely awakened by a phone call at 9am, he was up with a slight headache induced by a fleeting night not necessarily bereft of lascivious activity before which there was an intended food deprivation borne of the desire to lose 13kilos before summer.

It was past midday and yet no official emails had come in so he reckoned he was getting off easy with the self-imposed working-from-home day. This wasn’t long after he had had to re-brush as he realized that Sensodyne was indeed a waste of precious teeth. Thank God for Euthymol.

Fresh dressed like a million bucks, the son of man was out treating himself to a 3 course lunch with boiled potatoes, skewed turkey and pan-fried veal with carrot sauce and then a long overdue pedicure while everyone else was at work. After days and weeks of overzealous weight training and distressing diets that long-awaited therapy was greatly welcomed. With clean feet and fully loaded with nourishment that reassures love-handles, he felt human again.

Crooning along to Kirk Franklin’s Hold Me Now jamming in his ears, he starts a back & forth run in his head about a suitable post for 3six5dotcom and what picture might best represent it. It would be a long coming blog post.

With eyes wide shut, he’s all by himself at a lonesome corner near the big church sipping on an unemotional Campari cocktail with massive olives that felt like meat and was typing away. Suddenly he’s playing with the idea of buying another ticket and flying away.

He gets back home, rips the beddings off the now dressed bed and wraps himself with it.

Its 7:38pm and the day wasn’t getting any less busy. He woke up stretching his lazy bones, swathed in the warm duvet on the carpeted floor trying not to lose the snug position he had found between the bed and the half open portmanteau lying there.  It was a cold evening and he had his socks on.

It didn’t seem like he was settling for an uneventful conclusion to the off day unofficially taken for reasons best known to him. Now he wants edikaikong with piom-piom, but he can only dream.

I Am Nigeria

I am the star formerly known as the giant of Africa. Those days are long gone now. Used and abused, my glory has departed. I have survived a great deal of developmental regression. Is a renaissance possible after 5 long decades of deprivation & disease? Isn’t it just nonsensical that I am still battling with the bacterium Vibrio Cholerae & now home-made bombs?

.

Age is nothing but a number, they say, but time is the factor that has happened to me & has taken a chance on me. Over the years, a good number of my people have left me in search of greener pastures; not all of them will find it greener but most will settle-in well with the ordinary lushness of foreign lands. I blame them not for I may not have given them hope enough to stay. I only pray I don’t lose the dear ones that are still abiding to the devices of hostage takers and explosives.

.

I am now of the people by the people & for the people. I am my people. Mine has been quite a difficult life despite my priceless resources. I have been in the messiest relationships, going from one bad to another. My presidents have continually screwed me over, through & through.

.

I’ve been there, done that & bought the tee shirt which is now stained with oil & with blood. Like an interminable rollercoaster, I relive the days spent. I have fought a war. I have hosted festivals. I have been stripped, raped & beaten. I have borrowed, & then borrowed again. I have been afflicted & impregnated. I have had children. I have had several abortions too, likewise miscarriages. I still had more children & I want to borrow some more. I have been frustrated & deep down in the depths of despair. I should have died but my people have been praying.

.

Dear God consider our fervent supplication, we pray.

.

I didn’t do these things to myself; some of you did it to me. Guilty as charged, it’s not up for debate. You know yourselves. My program got structurally adjusted and it became either upper class or economy. My poverty is not only of the mind, it is of the pockets of my people. My poor resilient folk; all they ask for is light. Please let there be light.

.

My people let us take the bull by the horns. We shall all come out & we shall vote, & our votes must be counted. Our voices must be heard. We can make it work, whether they like it or not.

.

My past & present leaders should be made to bear the repercussion of their actions. You can’t leave me with no petrol & in abject penury and then walk free. There’s no free lunch in Freetown. Once beaten twice shy. I have had enough of the prejudice & the selective judgements. All perpetrators of wickedness must be brought to book. We must live right, & devoid of any more sorrow, tears or blood. I am fed-up of all your cocktail & bullshit tales of bygone years, it is still fresh on our minds. We want equal rights & justice.

.

Arise o’compatriots. The time is now. Rise up. Save me, save you, save our country.

.

Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

Tomorrow Is Another Day

Today is the tomorrow we spoke about yesterday.

I went through my blog from yesteryears and realised that some things need to be re-posted.

I trust you all are in good health

As one of my besties wrote, 

"All alone on my own, but soon i'll be back"

I Am Thinking

I stopped arguing & started thinking

Then I stopped speaking even if was thinking

The writing stopped & I went deeper in thought

I stopped reading, but was I still thinking?

I was thinking about what I was thinking about

Then I resolved to not decide just yet

Until now I have stopped smiling, I am still thinking

Passing Through

My dear people, I have no reason why i haven't been writing & posting on my blog. I've been up 7 about & have had a roller coaster of activities that have deterred me.

A lot, yet not so much have happened to me in the recent & not so far past, so there's definitely some to hear about.

I love you guys too. All those that had me tagged on one post or the other, soon, very soon, i will live up to the tag.

Keep blogging. Keep tweeting. Keep reading. Keep writing. Keep doing what makes you happy.

Happy Easter people.

I Love Sexy Women

I love sexy women

She gives you constant butterflies

And you are sure exactly why

I love sexy women as they look invigorating

Her luscious looking breasts and healthily swaying buttocks;

Irrespective of size, but sexy enough to trigger motion

I love sexy women who know that they are sexy

She carried her sexy body about gloriously

With her womanness screaming to be loved in the flesh

I love sexy women that don’t know all they want

But she is sure she wants me, for one

To reach into the essence of her womanity

I love sex with sexy women

The warmth she exudes and the mutual lust we share

Preceding the agreement of fluids in blissful bargain

I love sexy women that can make you arrive

Leave you up standing, and ready for more

Enough of her, you know you can never have

I love sexy women that inspire you

Your almost desperate want for her grabs you a pen

And makes you shamelessly scribble your lust in manuscript

A Very Happy Christmas...

Glad tidings of great joy i bring to you. May the joy and blessings of this season continue with you, now and forever more.

I wish my entire blogsville family a very Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year.

ciao~Baroque

Naija Border Agency

Is the Nigerian immigration an organisation at all? I have not seen such a degree of negligence in such a supposedly sensitive occupation. Very recently, I went through immigration only for me to find out that they had stamped a wrong date on my passport; the date of the previous day. I would rather they use up all the space on the page before starting a fresh page so I open it & hand the passport to them (waste of time), but I always check after I get it back.

I looked at the passport & saw the date. At the time I wasn’t sure what that day’s date was so I stayed pondering over it & waiting for my turn at the metal detectors. Suddenly I hear the guys behind me complaining bitterly about the same thing & turned around to take it up with the guy that stamped it. After they returned successfully, I went back too to get the right date stamped on, which he did without a word of apology (not like I expected one anyway).

Fast forward days later, I return home to Nigeria & ofcourse, immigration again, this time I was in a rush to catch a domestic flight to Port Harcourt so I grabbed my passport back & off to catch my flight. After I got home, I went ahead to inspect my passport to know if the lady stamped on the current page or started a fresh one. It took me minutes to realise there was no stamp on my passport, but before I panicked, I went through my old passport (that so happened to be attached to the new Nigerian e-passport) & find a very faint stamp for my arrival date, all I could see was OCT 2010 *smh*. I cursed & cursed & cursed the immigration woman, & her entire family. How could you possibly stamp on a passport that has been Cancelled Without Prejudice by your office?

What is the meaning of that? If any visa issuing officer decides to go through my passport(s) to marry Seen On Departure dates to their respective Seen On Arrival dates, I wish him or her the best of luck.

There’s a reason why the pages on the passport are numbered, so that things can be done orderly. Haphazard equals chaos, and is not and will never be the way forward for Nigeria.

Hiss

Nigeria@50_Day Eleven_Arise O’Compatriots

Yesterday on Nigeria@50 Day 10 - Spesh'sWorld

~

I am the star formerly known as the giant of Africa. Those days are long gone now. Used and abused, my glory has departed. I have survived a great deal of developmental regression. Is a renaissance possible after 5 long decades of deprivation & disease? Isn’t it just nonsensical that I am still battling with the bacterium Vibrio Cholerae?

.

Age is nothing but a number, they say, but time is the factor that has happened to me & has taken a chance on me. Over the years, a good number of my people have left me in search of greener pastures; not all of them will find it greener but most will settle-in well with the ordinary lushness of foreign lands. I blame them not for I may not have given them hope enough to stay. I only pray I don’t lose the dear ones that are still abiding to the devices of hostage takers and explosives.

.

I am now of the people by the people & for the people. I am my people. Mine has been quite a difficult life despite my priceless resources. I have been in the messiest relationships, going from one bad to another. My presidents have continually screwed me over, through & through.

.

I’ve been there, done that & bought the tee shirt which is now stained with oil & with blood. Like an interminable rollercoaster, I relive the days spent. I have fought a war. I have hosted festivals. I have been stripped, raped & beaten. I have borrowed, & then borrowed again. I have been afflicted & impregnated. I have had children. I have had several abortions too, likewise miscarriages. I still had more children & I want to borrow some more. I have been frustrated & deep down in the depths of despair. I should have died but my people have been praying.

.

Dear God consider our fervent supplication, we pray.

.

I didn’t do these things to myself; some of you did it to me. Guilty as charged, it’s not up for debate. You know yourselves. My program got structurally adjusted and it became either upper class or economy. My poverty is not only of the mind, it is of the pockets of my people. My poor resilient folk; all they ask for is light. Please let there be light.

.

My people let us take the bull by the horns. We shall all come out & we shall vote, & our votes must be counted. Our voices must be heard. We can make it work, whether they like it or not.

.

My past & present leaders should be made to bear the repercussion of their actions. You can’t leave me in abject penury & walk free. There’s no free lunch in Freetown. Once beaten twice shy. I have had enough of the prejudice & the selective judgements. All perpetrators of wickedness must be brought to book. We must live right, & devoid of any more sorrow, tears or blood. I am fed-up of all your cocktail & bullshit tales of bygone years, it is still fresh on our minds. We want equal rights & justice.

.

Arise o’compatriots. The time is now. Rise up. Save me, save you, save our country.

.

Long live the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

~

Tomorrow on Nigeria@50 Day 12 - Flygirl

You Have Only Made It Worse

This is definitely not mixed feelings; I am very angry and temperamental this morning. Alas I’m not one of those people that can ‘sleep over it’ and wake up delighted in the morning, I am not. I wake up in the middle of the night & it is fresh on my mind.

.

I can’t stand people poking their noses in my life especially when it is people that I respect (e.g. parents, uncles & aunties). I do not react very well to people judging me wrongly, or assuming they know what you have no fucking idea about.

.

With my eyes rolled, I will not even pretend to listen to you & your admonishments but I may just be there till you finish, however, believe me, you will get the very opposite result, and whatever you may have been complaining about is just about to get worse. I’m about to give you something to talk about, since you want to drink Panadol for another mans headache, here comes high blood pressure.

.

Who the fuck do you think you are talking to? Do I look like a kid to you?

How dare you talk about my friends? Do you know them?

Do you want to remodel my means for me? If you don’t fucking like my method & its madness, go & jam electric pole

I am the KING of my life, & no one else, are you my GOD?

How dare you even suggest to me the way you think I should live my life? Na you get my life?

Do you have any idea the kind of person I am?

.

Sorry guys, but I’m not going into details here for obvious reasons. If you see me today with a puckered brow, just know that it’s not about you, or maybe it may just be about you, or better still, we can make it about you.

.

I’m not sure I’m even in the mood to try to make myself happy.

Have a nice weekend, I’ll be fine

iReport Myself

For the past few weeks, I’ve been meaning to put up a post but I have succeeded in failing, and that’s why I’m here to report.

.

It is no fault of mine, blame RIM (Research In Motion), it’s entirely their fault. I’ve been doing just fine with my ordinary make call, receive call, send text, receive text phones until I went and got me a blackberry.

.

The blackberry is serving the purpose for which it was procured, & more. The ‘more’ is both negative & positive. However, I am not here to report myself that I now have porn right there in my hand for the viewing pleasures of me & others *SMH*

.

I had refused to use my bb for more than its originally intended use, because of its seeming anti-social nature until I got invited to this group. I have been on others before, some I was silent, some I wasn’t, and others I lasted a day or two before leaving, but this group has got me hooked.

.

This group I speak about is actually nothing so fantastic, started out as a joke but has become like a virtual big brother house, & now it has gotten me addicted such that I now take my charger to work because before the end of my lunch break my battery has run out.

.

Now, besides the joviality and the many great laughs I have on this group, there are some prospects of getting a shag, or 2, but I’m not sure I want to tow that line, just yet. Especially because most of the girls there are just bloody cockteasers & I would rather fuck someone with a brain I can pick, & not some over-zealous third year university student decked with N95,000 lace-wig & looks like Donna Summer (LMAO, bad belle sha) these babes are HOTT sha *wink*

.

Long thing, a writer always has more conversation than a chatter. Quote me & sue me if you like. I would rather try to shag a blogger instead; now, you didn’t hear that

.

Ok, enough said, I undertake to give my bloggers more attention than be carried away by the flighty fantasies of a blackberry group.

Wrong Buy!

I am so pissed, my phone screen has been going blank for a while now, so I refused to slide it shut so it stays on. So you can imagine my N81 staying open even in my pocket because if I slide it shut I might have to restart the phone to get to see anything on the screen.

.

So I go ahead to seek out a replacement, and followed the advice of my friend and colleague. I buy a Nokia6700, hard metal sleek flat small phone. Now I have owned the phone for a little over 12hours and it is driving me mad. I managed to do a phone switch and got all my contacts and calendar entries transferred.

.

Now I save contacts by what I can remember people by, e.g. all the people that work in UBA have the letters, UBA after their names, with a space in between, such that all I have to do is type the letters, UBA and all the entries with the letter UBA appear, even names like Ubani.etc. But with this bitch, I have to remember the first names of the individuals and type it. As in, my Contact list is surname first so I have to recall the names I saved it as and, OMG, I do not have the patience for that kind of thing. It is driving me mad here. I am already searching for names.

.

I’m so upset this morning; I want to sell the phone for N30k, N7k less than I paid for it yesterday evening. I can’t take it back to the person I bought it from because I gave him heat for him to get it, now I don’t want it. Or I might just give the damn phone out.

.

It is still very brand new; all the waterproof sheets are intact. I’ve got the packet at home, & I’m tempted to go home right now & swap my sim right back in the half dead phone, & sell this nonsense. If I could transfer all my contacts to my blackberry, I might just have only one phone.

.

Some one here should tell me they want the phone & I’ll DHL it right to you (in Nigeria only) if you promise to pay N35k in my account on receipt of the phone. I’m really unhappy about this purchase.

Food & Drinks Only

FOOD

Cocktail

Chapman / Sunrise / Piña colada

Finger Foods

Spring Rolls / Sausages / Peppered Goat Meat (Asu) / Mini puff

Native Dishes

Banga / Egusi / Okazi / Opurofulo Soup with Pounded Yam / Eba / Fufu / Starch

Delicacies

Kekefia (Unripe Plantain Porridge) / Nkwobi

Continental

Fried Rice / Jollof Rice / Coconut Rice / Native Rice (Banga) / Vegetable Salad

Accompaniment

Garlic Fish / Peppered Snail / Chicken in Tomato Sauce & Green Pepper / Goat Meat

Dessert

Fruit Salad / Cakes / Ice-cream

DRINKS

Champagne

Moet Rose (Brut Imperial & Nectar) / Vueve Cliquot

Spirits

Remy Martin VSOP / Hennessy VSOP

Wine

Vin rouge / Blanc Vin / Rosé

Beers

Guinness Stout / Star / Gulder / Harp / Heineken

Juice

Citrus / Apple / Pineapple / Mango Juice

Soft

Malt Drinks / Coke / Fanta / Sprite / Redbull / Bottled water

~

...so far so good, we're talking approximately NGN5,380,000 (USD $36,000)

~

I Write, You Write, We Write

I never really gave thought to the reason why I write. Some of you say you do because it is therapeutical so you string a few words, or more, and tell us a story or two, true or not, express your pain or hurt, laughs and joy, deeds and intents, desires and sexcapades. Some of us only rant and wish life was not the way it was.

It may not get better right now but the words given vent to could lighten the writer.

I used to write because it was beautiful to create something out of nothing. More than not likely, it would start with a blank page & then out pours essence from your heart & mind and it turns from letters to words, from words to sentences, from sentences to paragraphs, from paragraphs to chapters, from chapters to books.

And some authors are borne.

It is beautiful, and sounds easy on the ear too, the way the words fall in steady rhythm and charming rhymes. A few lines carrying so much meaning expressed from the heart of the writer to the mind of the reader.

There’s no better meaning to the word poetry.

Words fall out of spaces, into more decipherable characters than hieroglyphics, although not necessarily in English Language. A language so deep, yet so illogical. My honest opinion.

I love the way it doesn’t follow most of the times; as stubborn like a mule.

I am heavy hearted, & I wish my words would cheer me up but I find them not thus my rage. I am bereft of the verbal skill to lay hold of and partake of the healing milk they say writing gives. This amateur writer is blocked.