These people seem to take it upon themselves (consciously or unconsciously, at this point I no longer give the smelly crack of a rat’s behind) to ensure that you don’t forget them once you get down from that bus, and how do they do this? They “brand” you with their smell.
If I were to answer this question honestly, I would say yes! But then again, maybe I haven’t been conversing with the right people, I really don’t know! one thing I do know tho, is that the world has become very “chatty”…too many social networks and not enough social networking (did that make sense? Hehe…dunno).
Some of the little male folk were lucky or unlucky (depends on how you look at it) to have dodged cupids arrow, some barely missed the almost always precise shot of the famous love bow, as they were slightly grazed by the arrow leaving a not so serious love wound, others were shot straight in the bulls eye of the heart…and thus began a never ending love. Even after said cupid shot had been fired, some didn’t even realize they were “soccer whipped” until they found themselves breaking up with girlfriends over soccer league finals.
Okay, so now you’re fed up and try a more direct approach, you come out plainly and say “please, you are disturbing me, i’m not interested in being your friend” and you get a response like “ahn ahn babe why nau? Did i offend you? It’s not like that nau? Please be nice to me. Okay i’m sorry, why don’t we meet and talk nau?” Aaargh!!!! Really??? like are you frigging serious right now???
I once mouthed off at mama, but had no idea that papa was listening from the sitting room…I paid a brief visit to limbo. The only thing I could remember was that I woke up looking like Lazarus, clad in bandages like an astronaut.
I won’t say I have taken the most drastic health measures or done the insanest most intense fitness routines, nah! that would be me telling smelly lies, and i’m not about to start lying, at least not to you guys, scratch that, I don’t tell lies *straight face*. So what steps did I take to attempt to stay fit and healthy?
Touching: Some guys are basically bad touchers. They handle the twins like ……*thinking*……… the horn of a news paper vendor. Jeez its very annoying. Guys like this are usually clueless in wonderland.
When I opened the door, I nearly laughed out. In fact, blood nearly popped out of my eyes while I was trying to curtail a huge trunk of air that would have made me giggle. I’m loyal to a fault, so I wouldn’t want to mess up the arrangement. What I saw was a stout looking man, with a shade of life -in the dark, and dressed in an ALL RED SUIT, with shoes to match. (Did I hear you say Igbo? Don’t be a racist!!!)
My question; why do some guys feel, because they have been asking you to date them for years, they are entitled to a “yes” from you. Biko are you queuing to buy plantain chips? Love is not ‘first come, first serve’, I do not owe you any positive response just because you decided to hang around and not move on with your life for years.
Over time I made progress, I started shaping myself to be the woman I wanted to be, but there was a problem, my dear Tunde was changing. I can’t go into all the details now, but I think I caused him to change. That is another story I just might write on another day.
The two main actors in this mid-day display of “we ain’t got better work to do” are not registered boxers, Oh no no no. These two definitely aren’t Ali and Frazier, these are two not so highly esteemed Nigerian men of the“Okada” riding profession, who have apparently become too bored with the fairly productive routine of faring passengers across locations in exchange for a couple of Naira notes, and the occasional hooting and ogling at voluptuous, “bumbum bigger than bombay” women going about their own activities, minding their own business.
Washing the clothes was no problem at all….It was hanging them out to dry (feminine garments) …in the open…in the full glare of neighbors that was made up of tatafo people who knew me as a frequent visitor…way too frequent. At this point, I would like to explicitly specify that I did not wash pant, or bra. I swear, all I handled was tops, skirts, pants (trousers), camisoles and one . *refills beer glass*
But you know, even without a chimney, as a child I still somehow hoped you would maybe slide through our burglary proof to put a barbie doll or doll house underneath our Christmas tree, but you disappointed me and let the lack of chimneys hold you back.