Aje...

I’m confused…since when was chillin' a crime?

Sorry, I get ahead of myself. Hello people!

As any who know me will tell you, I stand opposed to any form of discrimination or prejudice. I think that it is beyond stupid to be tribalistic, racist or to discriminate any person because of his religious or sexual choices.

But none of these irk me as much as the one that has lived among us as long as I can remember. It has contributed largely to the lack of intelligence in this country. And the trip is that there is no word for it. So I have decided to name it! (I am of course open to suggestions should you have a better name)

I shall call it…AJEBUTTERISM. These ajebutterists would have you believe that anyone who had a semblance of a peaceful childhood, some privileges and a proper command of the English language, should be ashamed of themselves!?!

I’m not saying people don’t have it rough or that those that do should hide in shame, but seriously? I missed the memo that said being raised in a gutter was something to be glorified. I also missed the one that said that being crass, uncouth and generally loutish were things to aspire to.

Tuface sang a line that went something like: “just because say I no finish school, some people want to take me for a fool”. And you hear the idiots take up the chorus. Here’s the difference; Tuface didn’t finish school, granted. But he had recognizable, God given talent that he had honed over many years and a plan for exactly how to utilize it.

Allow me to school you on some stuff. It’s simple really. Butters and Kpakos listen close o (even though I doubt there are any Kpakos here…they’re allergic to the written word)!

         i.          1.   Every Kpako is a hustler (or uzzla).

       ii.          2.   A hustler’s (uzzla) dream is to make plenty money.

      iii.          3.   Plenty money so he and his family can live in the lap of luxury.

     iv.           4.  This lifestyle is the very same offence the ajebutter purportedly committed early in his life.

       v.           5.  If what the ajebutter had at the beginning of his life is what the Kpako aspires to possess at the end of his, then the ajebutter is what the Kpako wants to be when he grows up.

     vi.           6.  That is to say; the Ajebutter is the Kpako’s life ambition and as such deserves respect from the Kpako!

QED!

Please don’t get me wrong, I have nothing but respect for anyone looking to better his lot. And even more so for those who actually succeed at it.

I just have an issue with people who would make others feel crappy for being born into a certain level of affluence.

Sure, it doesn’t seem fair that they got all that without having to do any work save pop out of their mother’s wombs.

But since when was shit fair on this blue marble we call Earth?

DANCE, DANCE, DANCE

I dance. Do I dance well? I have no bleeding idea! Do I care? My answer is always “NO”! Not because I actually don’t but because I’m not sure if I’d appreciate your answers.

I find it to be therapeutic for going through the sheer fuckery that is everyday life. The biggest problem is fear. Fear of looking foolish, fear of tripping on my own laces, fear of poking her in the eyes, fear of getting knocked out by my dance partners boyfriend, fear of accidentally touching her boobs and getting smacked, fear of spilling someone’s drink, fear of my partner feeling my erm... tumescence as she grinds against me in obedience to the exhortations of Sean Paul.

Fear causes my mind to race and my muscles to tighten. What follows has caused observers to wince and look away or at other times made them to gather round in admiration and cheer. Other times I’m asked to leave.

So what do I like about dancing? It teaches me that I cannot suppress the fear, nor think my way out of it. I may have control over my body but i cannot control how its movements will be perceived by others. My only option is to live in the moment and get to sporadic spasming. This is a lesson that I have tried to apply to my life at large.

Every day I make a conscious effort to gracefully accept my fears. - My fear of being judged as inadequate, my fear of letting down people who count on me, my fear that I have nothing to bloody write about, my fear that no one will read my stuff because they'd rather watch mediocre celebrities frolic around some silly house with cameras all over the place, my fear regarding the welfare of my parents, my fear that my sister will never talk to me again, my fear that I will die alone, my fear that the scar on my arm is going to mutate into a cancer, my fear of impending National crisis, cockroaches, random violence and dirty bombs -- and work anyway.

 The result has been astonishing. I believe my work is better than ever. I have also tried to apply this lesson about fear to my dealings with women and other awkward personal relationship. That hasn’t worked out as well.

I think I need to keep dancing and keep my head up.

I believe?

I'd like to take this opportunity to share with you some of my personal beliefs.

I believe that everyone thinks they can write. This is not true. It is true, however, that everyone can try.

I believe that the Laws of Karma do not apply to show business, where good things happen to bad people on a fairly regular basis. I believe that what doesn't kill us makes us bitter. I believe that the obsessive worship of movie and TV figures is more likely to produce emotional stability and gain than waiting for the government to do right or for the Super Eagles to win ANY trophies.

I believe my parents are secretly proud of me. I believe that if you can't find anything nice to say about people whom you've helped to make wildly successful and then they stabbed you in the back, then don't say anything at all because nobody will believe your story that you were M.I’s school father and he’s using your lyrics.

I believe that beer is a gateway drug that leads, inevitably, to vodka and somebody oughta do something about it.

I believe that the guy who invented those speed bumps in the freeway that snap you back into consciousness when you're drifting into sleep in your booze induced haze and headed off the road on your merry way to flying outta your windscreen to hug a friendly neighbourhood transformer, should be shot.

I believe that there are actually several cures for foolishness, and the best one is a “koboko”.

I believe that earlier, I erroneously believed that beer was a gateway drug that led to vodka. After intensive consultation with iBlend executives, I now believe I was very, very wrong. Beer is good. Vodka is better. Especially vodka distbrewed by major manufacturers, and enjoyed in a responsible fashion.

I believe I've spent my life expecting people to behave in a certain way. I believe that when they didn't behave according to my expectations, I became angry, sad, confused and occasionally fearful. I believe these expectations are the reason I've been angry, sad, confused and occasionally fearful more than I care to admit.

I believe that in public bathrooms, using the "children's urinal" will make you feel like a giant.
I believe making a porn movie that lasts longer than ten minutes is pointless.
I believe that sometimes sex just seems like a lot of work.
I believe that most of us only floss so that our partners or dentists will be proud of us.
I believe that even when asked, a man will never be able to "talk dirty" to a woman without feeling like a complete idiot. 

As a result, I now believe my expectations are the real problem. I believe that everyone has this very same problem, and they ought to start acting accordingly...

Moments...

There are those moments when I am hit with an inexplicable and overwhelming impulse to write... It’s like a tsunami surging from my insides and threatening to burst right the through the walls of my body if I do not translate this swirling mass of pure compulsion into words.

When started writing this post, I was firmly in the throes of this maelstrom...

Thank God the feeling has passed!

#okbye!

BACK AGAIN... WHHHHEEEEEEEE!

This is my selfish post.

So, here I am.  It's been quite a while on my internet hiatus and my! What a change it has been for me.  Seriously, it's like I'm alive again all over.  If any of you are like I was and attach yourself to the teeth of the internet looking for the love and answers to life that you cannot seem to find otherwise, I have one bit of advice for you…STEP AWAY FROM THE KEYBOARD!!! Just get away from it every now and then and see what happens.

For instance, did you know that they have this thing in the evenings that's just fucking spectacular?  It's called a "sunset."  I think it's supposed to be like a TV set, only you can't change the channel or pop in a DVD if you get bored.  Still, it's absolutely fantastic.  I can't believe I've never noticed it before.  Perhaps now that I have internet back, I'll Tivo it so I can catch it again.

Also, there is this thing in the large room outside my house (they call that room "outdoors") called "wildlife".  I'm not sure how I feel about this yet.  I like those… erm…birds and I'll see if I can't find an MP3 of their work on NotJustOk.com, but I don't like the way that the dogs were eying me.  I bet they're on my FB page now looking at the pics I have.  Well, if they want to be friends they can just forget it.

Oh, and have I mentioned that I've rediscovered this outstanding recreational activity called sex?  Did you know that TWO people can do it together?  When did they dream that up?  I bet it was the Japanese... I mean, the Wii... Playstation... they always have great ideas to pass the time.

Anyway, if you ever have a chance, tear your umbilical cord out of your computer or BB every now and then and take a look around.  If you don't, you'll be surprised at what you're missing.

Of course, be sure to visit here regularly.  You can do that on mobile phones now, I hear.

Anyway, in a tad bit more seriousness, I am back from my little forced vacation and now I'm languishing in 56Kpbs (or less?) land once more.  I'm told that broadband (I mean real broadband, not that multi-links shite) will be available in this area soon. Glo, here I come.  I'm getting tired of this CDMA shit.  Forgive me, but isn't this 2010?  If we don't have flying cars or spaceships, I at least want high speed internet!

A certain someone thinks I should up the intellectual content of the blog…I’m confused.

So, I threw out a small challenge in my immediate circle. The challenge was that they were to ask me any question they wanted. Not like in those daft BB and FB messages sent back and forth by those mindless-frothing –at-the-mouth BBM broadcast ‘bots, but like real life questions. Stuff that we take for granted and don’t really wonder about but do not know!

Here’s one for you; What do you call the little plastic bit on the tip of your shoelace?

While you are furtively trying to figure that out, feel free to ask any questions of your own in the comments section.

In other news, this is really the second time I've touched the site since the post so the update is miniscule to say the least.  This weekend though, I promise it will be meatier.

So, hide your vodka... El-Jefe is back and uglier than ever.

…iBlend…do you?

been a minute...

Ok so, I’ve not been posting up blogs for a while. I wish I had some profound reason to give as to why I have not. I don’t.

But in the course of this hiatus, I have found Ivory Malinov (her twitter alias), you just HAVE to check out her blog @ madphury.blogspot.com. My friend, bro and fellow blender has started his own pretty cool blog; “andytrueword.blogspot.com and of course, ones I truly love; cbsuga.blogspot.com and www.billuko.com.

Now this post is a departure from the norm cos it’s mostly gonna be ramblings. Not cos I chose it to be this way but because that’s just how I feel right now.

I was just about to give up this whole blogging thing when I got a bbm request from one ……… and as I accepted it (not knowing who this was), he told me that he actually read the blog! My mind reeled from the shock! Someone actually reads this stuff? He then stepped the shock factor up a notch by giving a certain “Miss Khimmie Baby” my BBpin. And she literally scared my pants off! (a story for another day).

So here I am, still me, and writing God knows what, for the simple reason that I have been inspired by you! The readers! And I just wanna say: THANK YOU! THANKS FOR READING!

Right! Now that I’ve gotten the mushy stuff outta the way, let’s get back to the anarchy and brutal honesty, shall we?

iBlend! Do you…?

So, my love life has been down, down and then sorta up. Nigeria has a new Presido. You are still you and not much has changed...and I just looked at my phone and yeah... my love life is off again! just brill-fucking-iant!

But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t still fuckery out there!

So, let’s explore shall we?

I wanna know... Pt 1

After spending the last few years peacocking about and living in the escapist surrealness that is the Abuja social scene, I have many, many questions. Some pertinent and some not so pertinent. But since I am still reeling from being struck by the supreme power of ignorance and foolishness, as is always the result when one allows oneself to get dragged into a "beer parlour" argument, I shall only ask the less pertinent questions.
 
In Hades, sorry I mean Aristotle (a night club located in Ceddi Plaza), whose idea was it to frequently blare off that bloody siren every time some one buys a "high end" drink? I mean, the damned thing sounds like a cross between a crucified banshee and a foghorn in labour! That's my reward for spending my hard earned money? And I've been there often enough to know that they'll set it off randomly whether or not a peanut is purchased. Why? You can see them, with malevolent grins pressing the damn button! And you can almost hear their thoughts;"dance slaves! Or I'll rupture your eardrums! Bwah hahahahaha! 
 
At Play. Why, oh why are those bouncers on a never ending ego trip? Personally, I don't get any crap from them...anymore. But sometimes watching them act like letting you in is the equivalent to donating the liver your mother so desperately needs to live is downright annoying. 
Oh, and this is probably just me, but why does being in the X.O VIP lounge make me feel like I'm in a mental institution?
 
Aqua! I know, I know...the high whore count isn't their fault...its located in the Sheraton for cripes sake! But more unsettling...does Jolly Cole have sweat glands? That dude seems like he could come in there dressed as Santa and still not break a sweat!
 
Cubana and A-lounge... Sigh! Why not forget gate fees and all and enforce a strict shower and deodorant policy? Hell, install a shower near the door and make 'em buy the deo! Maybe its just me but after creating some reasonably lovely edifices to put your club in, having it smell like the place armpits go to die is not my idea of the right "ambiance"!
 
Eden, nice, nice...for a hallway. And why does it always seem like you're crashing a party meant only for the owners and their 6 to 10 friends? Their always hopping about, partying harder than the customers, hogging the waitresses, so much that I often want to walk up to them and say "happy birthday". 
 
Cafe 24: No other hang out spot illustrates the need to "Light Up Nigeria". Do they make money? Yes. 
Are their prices low? No. 
Do they consider investing in a functional generator or inverter?... Don't be absurd!
Oh and I have to ask; is it located just beside the twilight zone? 'Cos it has to be the only place where it takes longer to make a club sandwich than it does to make Fried rice, curry sauce and chicken. Hmmm.
 
Terminal 5: what are you? Night club, lounge., what???
 
The Basement? 'Nuff said!
 
Mediterranean Rec Centre. Its got everything! Basketball, swimming, ping pong, music school, beach volleyball, go karts, ampitheater, soccer, karate dojo, health foods, tennis...even hammocks! But no people? Huh?
 
Well, that'll do it for now. Feel free to ask any questions of your own in the comments section. I'm off to pursue deeper inquest as to the location of Jolly C's sweat glands! 
Oh and if you do two things this week, they should be: 
1. Get a copy of Jesse Jagz's blazing new album, "Jag of All Trades"
2. Get your copy of the "City Crawler" magazine

3. Come get Blended, iBlend style at TGI1st at the Silverbird Galleria!

what? that's three things? whatever man!....iblend!
 
Later, crazy people!

Sir, A word...If I May...

It’s amazing what a man will learn when he’s in love.

I’d always prided myself on being a pretty darn good drinker. At least I enjoyed the hell out of it. I’ll get back to that first line in a second.

I know all the medical/health implications, I know pretty much every single ingredient and chemical process involved in the creation of possibly every alcoholic beverage known to man.

To top it all off, drinking is pretty darned fun. There. When you strip all the clothes off the issue, that’s what it really is in its stark beauty. It’s fun dammit.

The women look better [this increases in proportion to the amount imbibed of course], the colors are brighter, and the delivery on every one of your jokes is that much better. Everywhere feels more comfortable, and if done right, all will be well with the world… for a while anyway.

If done right.

And that’s my point. See, when I started, it was all about being rebellious, edgy and transgressive [as with most new drinkers].

It took a longer time than I’d have hoped for and more than anything, the concern of a person who might very well may be the most amazing, beautiful woman in the world [“very well might be” because I really don’t want to argue about it, cos as far as I'm concerned she is and always will be].

The combination of booze and retrospect is a beautiful thing – looking back on your troubles – at home, school, work or wherever, you’ll find yourself deliciously unhinged, detached, from fear, responsibility and even expectation.

And so, for a while, you see a new side to you – an alter ego, if you will. You get the eye of the tiger. You’re braver, you say stuff that should be said and [usually] some that shouldn’t.

You seem to be that bolder person you’ve always wanted to be. You can walk up to that girl/guy and ask them out [or snog ‘em]. This is your moment and you own it. Nothing and no one can stop you now.

Now, what you absolutely must do and I do mean MUST…is realize that these are simply ILLUSIONS.

Fun Illusions, but nonetheless, ILLUSIONS!

Many a drinker – even older ones, are simply not self-aware. Look inward.

The truth is that there’s drinking and there’s drinking right. And trust me you wanna drink right.

Go out sometime make sure you are less drunk [if not sober] than everyone around you. If you have one working brain cell, a few questions will come to you.

When you look around you will most likely catch sight of the shouter, the puncher, the “this bill is not correct” guy, the lewd ass grabber, the comatose drunk, the staggerer, the name dropper, etc.

There’s always one around.

Understand that this guy has no idea what people think about him, what he looks like or that he is actually being that. Accept that on this journey you will at one point or another be one or all of these guys. You don’t have to be.

Do not chug. Do not slouch. Do not holler “whoo-hoo..” after a shot.

Do not slam anything but tequilas and even those – in moderation. Always remember that a 60cl bottle of Gulder, Star or Guinness are to be drunk from glasses or mugs. Anything larger that 30-35cl should be set down and poured from not lifted and gulped from – you are not a member of NWA sucking on a 40 ouncer by the liquor store.

Walk into a bar like you’ve been there before but do not be too shy to ask their prices before you order.

Duck out if you can’t afford it ‘cos there’s more dignity in that than having your phone seized and then kicked out.

Know your poison. Don’t go ordering drinks on whims.

Do not be caught dead with ice in your wine or champagne (that goes for your beer too).

If you drink beer often and much, there is the inexplicable desire to eat…something with meat in it. Or that is meat based. Resist this. For on that path lies the near un-losable beer belly.

5 bottles of beer (or more) + Pepper soup/ Nkwobi/ Shawarma (?) + Dinner at home + the “anti-hangover” gallon of water = BEER GUT! This formula holds infinitely truer than E=mc2!

If the bottle has it’s ingredients written on it and it says something like: Water, Ethanol and Gin/Rum flavouring…IT’S NOT GIN OR RUM… Please walk away.

There’s no rush. Drinking should NEVER be the event in itself.

Quit. For a while. A week. A month. A decade. It really doesn’t matter, just leave it for a while. Feel the absence, miss it.

Start again if you want to. But you’ll probably be better at it.

Eventually, you’ll develop your own style. With some luck and discipline, you might find yourself having a different drink for different occasions – a nice sunny cocktail for the beach, Hennessey for the clubs, martinis for the lounge and beers for the soccer game. A bartender who whips up your drink as soon has he spots you.

You might even meet some fresh faced young drinker and offer him some of this advice, along with all that you already know while you smile at the pretty girls strutting about. Take a sip of your drink , smile and tell yourself because of all this and in spite of it:… Drinking is pretty darned good dammit.

Farewell then… ‘till Blackberry Bolds grow on Blackberry bushes…Make mine a Double Repbulikkan!!!

So...

So what if I hate my life?

So what if things just spiral from bad to worse?

So what if I'm standing in the middle of a totally rocking night club with my boys killing moet after nuvo after henny after belvy?

So what if my boy Dj Zimo is waxing insane on the wheels of steel?

So what if I just scored a coup with my new company?

So what if my writing is crappy?
So wht if I'm breaking new ground achievement wise?

So what if all the good stuff just feels empty at the end of the day?

Michaela said everyone lies. Truer words were never spoken.

I may be the worst one of all!
Going around spewing words of hope and goodwill and happiness and zen like I know what the fuck these words really mean.

What's funny is that I know I'm not the only one!

Or is that misery just loving company?

Who cares really?

Noone!

Ugly? Brutal?

Cataclysmically fucked up?
Maybe!

True? Yes!

But what the hell do I know?

So you hate that you give respect and noone gives it back?

So it kills you to love and just feel like an idiot every time you get your emotions trampled on.

So your every good intention is misconstrued.

So your life sucks camel balls.

Well, that's your shit.

We all feel like this at one time or the other.

Some of us perpetually.

You hate that life gives you hope. A feeling that its all good. Then yanks the carpet out from under you.

Why the fuck do you go on?

I have no bloody idea.

But if you ever find out.....

Somebody fucking call me...and tell me.

El Jefe- OUT!

From the Mind of A Style Challenged Fashionista (or is that Fashionisto?) !

Ok, I may be a tad bit late addressing this issue but WTF? I've got nothing else to do and I'm for damn sure not going on about the would be bomber or the slumbering Prez!

Dudes, why are we going around with our collars popped looking like retarded peacocks? And those sagging, low riding jeans nko? The man-bracelets I can handle, even the super-silly "faux-hawks that I've been forced to see guys wear nowadays (although i'm ashamed to accept some measure of responsibility for that). To be fair some of you get it right sha. But the popped collar defies reason.

I'm embarrassed for you. It's not cool! Or clever! Collars are made that way for a reason and popping it only makes you look like you just got off the assembly line from the "I'm-a-wannabe-cool-as-shi

t-big boy" cloning facility.

Ok, about saggy pants & showing off unsightly boxers. It's called UNDERWEAR for a reason dammit!
Anyone doing this should be ashamed, flogged & sterilized.
Here's some schooling for you: That style originated in American prisons. Hiphop artistes who emulate the prison styles even to the point of wearing prison jumpsuits so as to up their street cred & thuggishness, made the style popular.
Since millions of our "educated" youths blindly & idiotically copy any trend foolish enough to show it's face on channel O or the like, they took it upon themselves to promote the style further. And since then, boxers and butt cracks have been on parade.

Here's the fun part: In American prisons, anyone sagging his pants like that was conveying the message; "I'm a bitch & I take it up the ass"!
True story!

All these Diet-thug dudes think they look tough like that, when in truth, they are only advertising their willingness to grant entry to hot pecker into their chocolate tunnels! Retarded no?
Sha, I can't shout! Just wanted to get it off my chest!

Sigh...

This is my official "I have nothing to say" post. I will write it or something very similar to it whenever I have nothing worth typing out.

Don't be surprised to see it quite often. I should have done this ages ago! Why didn't I? Vanity! I had become vain about my updates.

I was determined to write a new one every week at least because...I guess b'cos i'm just that kinda guy (If it wasn't that,then it was about sending subliminal msgs to Baby bear).

But i'm older & wiser now.

I know when i have nothing to say.

And that knowledge is in itself; Freedom.

Freedom from the need to win your constant approval.

And more importantly, freedom from the obsessive and relentless need to end each update with something witty and/or profound.

El-Jefe is sober!

NAIJAIREEA !!!

Is it wrong of me to get so fed up with people and to loose faith in them so dramatically that I just want to move off to some island in the Caribbean and become so self sufficient that I don't have to look at another human being again?

I subscribe to the old Men in Black philosophy that a person is smart, but sadly, people are dumb. i see it all the time! I live in a country where the President is at deaths door and his ever smiling inactive deaf mute of a sidekick is being heralded as a cure all. Not so people, they're on the same team for a reason.

Where we as a people in general have caused the complete and utter collapse of the economy, then we call in a Venezuelan to come and point out our child like stupidity in a very condescending manner. I mean, dude came and said his country had NO desire to invest in our oil industry!

Where we still think Northerner=Hausa=Muslim!!!

And Southern=Christian!!!

I live in a country where...and this irks me deeply... people think that love can be strictly defined and if people have any difference in tribe or creed then love between them is sick and immoral and should be against the law... you know, just like in S.A forty years ago when black and white people wanted to marry each other.

Worst of all, I live in a country that at 49 STILL can't feed itself!

We're fucked as a species.

2010 , Aye???

Personally, I've always found that even-numbered years always sound less futuristic than odd-numbered years so, until 2011 comes along, I'll just wait and dream of my flying car.

Still, there are a couple of things to look forward to this year. Chief among them is that my life is looking like making a total about face and I’m NOT scared outta my wits.

As for my predictions... I foresee [not hope for] further nonsensical shenanigans coming from our leadership and even more foolishness from the followership [us]. Don’t let me down guys. I mean disappearing oil vessels, plane wrecks etc, disappearing then re-appearing then non-functional satellites were cool but a phantom president signing budgets and things from the bat-cave??? Thank you Santa…

All right, so that's just fine. Add that to an A.G [federal] who is lost as to basic points of Law and our very own terrorist to banks laying off massive amounts of people to add to the school leavers and the already stifling backlog of job seekers and you have…DEMOCRACY??? I mean, this IS what we fought for right? It must be, ‘cos we seem pretty cool with it. Personally, I'll just be sitting back watching it all burn down in glee.

Let's see... anything else? I foresee that more celebrities will probably die but none of the ones that really irritate me will.
I think that's about it. Happy new year, everyone. Don't drink and drive and if you do, just don't hit me.


El Jo…that means you…

RANT!!!

The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind.

The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking and I’m sitting here messing about on facebook.

We live trapped in loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths and options laid out ahead of us.

We see the same things each day, we respond to them the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms.

We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us and carry us upon the clouds to heights of fulfillment yet unknown.

And no, I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know how jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become.

But I do know this: the solution doesn’t involve watering down my every little idea or creative impulse for the sake of someday easing my fit into a mold. It doesn’t involve tempering my life to better fit someone’s expectations. It doesn’t involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up.

It sure as hell does not involve not doing what I must or want to do simply because "it is not done" or the previous generation disagrees or has some template/process for how I should go about it.

So listen close because this is very important …
FUCK. THAT. SHIT.

Bluetooth, Bloody Bluetooth!

I'm walking through Exclusive Stores the other day because I've got that kind of money and I get pissed off. No, not because of a multi-million dollar superstore selling about-to-expire goods to an unsuspecting public in the name of “a good bargain” effectively killing off smaller more wholesome businesses across the nation... fuck them!

Not because I saw some asswipe actually buy 3 coconuts in the same store. A coconut? Really? This IS still Naija, Africa, somewhere in the tropics, yeah? I’m confused.
No, I get pissed off because I'm walking down the aisle and I see some six foot tall retard talking to himself. I give the retard a funny look and he looks back at me revealing that he's got one of those bluetooth things in his ear.

The situation was clarified but not changed... the guy is still a retard.
I hate to be the one to break this to everyone who honestly thinks that wearing a Bluetooth headset is some kind of fashion accessory, but it's an earphone, not an earring and when I see people walking around with one of those things jammed in their ear like some kind of mechanical brain slug from Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, all I can think of is that the look would be complete with a rainbow-colored skull cap and a line of drool coming out of the side of your mouth. You look... STUPID! It's not hip, it's not trendy, it's like your trying to get assimilated into a retarded Borg collective or something.

Let me shock you for a minute and tell you that I don't think that bluetooth is a horrible invention! I think it's a completely brilliant idea, actually, when you're in a car and can drive with both hands on the wheel while talking to your homies even when you’re cooking but when you're walking along and talking to no one, take the fucking thing out of your ear! I love dental floss, but I don't go around with a string of it hanging out of my mouth all the time.

But no, I see these people with their mind suckers sticking out of their ears all the time. "Well, El-Jefe, how am I supposed to talk to someone without my Bluetooth earpiece?" Try using the phone, jackass. It's one thing that you look normal (if a bit annoying) jabbering on a cell phone in a populated area, but

it's something completely different if you look like a schizo talking to yourself in the grocery store.
I have also decided that people who wear these goddamn things all the time really overvalue their importance to society. To watch some of these sad, simple, delusional people walk around you'd think that they were fantasizing about being in the secret service or something. Then again, if this gaggle of brain-dead monkeys were really in charge of keeping the Attorney General safe, would that be a bad thing?

It's really simple, it’s not a fashion accessory, it's not an earring, it's not cool! Take the fucking thing off and use it when it's appropriate. I don't wear condoms continually, nor do I have a toothbrush sticking out of my mouth in public or do I display my swim goggles all the time. Wearing a Bluetooth earpiece continually makes no sense and it makes you look stupid.
But wait! Come back all is forgiven…on the condition that you help me kill the only class worse than you. The guys who use hands-free, headsets continually despite the fact that they don’t drive, their phones don’t have radio and can’t carry more than 5 songs and with the cords all over the place looking like unfinished terminators.

Do us all a favor, take that fucking thing out of your ear and shove it up your ass.

I Don't Like You Just Because You're Dead!!

A couple of weeks back, I was informed of the tragic passing of someone I used to know. I won't go into details about who he was or what happened, but needless to say it was an accident [he had ben drinking-a lot] and he went way before someone his age should have gone.

It was my cousin who called me in the afternoon to tell me of "John's" [not real name] passing. My response was cold, I admit, because all I could answer was, "So?"
John, you see, was in my University and apparently this was supposed to afford me some kinship with the man. The truth is, though, I didn't like him and I didn't really see how his being dead suddenly would change any of that. He was still a prick; he was still someone who pretty much tried his best to make my life in Uni a living hell for me, and now all of the sudden I was supposed to feel bad that an epic act of stupidity on his part had ended his life?

I don't want anyone to think that I was happy he was dead and, to be honest, if I had Hiro Nakamura as a friend or if I had the power to time travel one of the first things I would do would be to prevent the accident that killed John, but I'm just not broken up. Hearing about his death had about as much an effect on me as hearing about the death of someone on the other side of the planet. I just don't care and I'm not going to put on airs like I do.

I'm not a hypocrite and I'm not acquainted with his family to act like I care. I just didn't like the guy. So, everyone thinks I'm an asshole. Fine. I refused to go to his funeral and I refused to shed crocodile tears and I'm the asshole? Listen, I'm not one to hold a grudge and have gone on to become friends with a lot of people who were pricks when I first met them -- he never made the effort, his behavior was prickish up until the last time I saw him, and my affection for someone does not increase simply because someone is dead.

Perhaps I am cold on this matter, but I just can't bring myself to care and I really doubt that if our positions were reversed, Bob would be caring that much about me either. I just don't get why I'm the village jackass all of the sudden.

Until Dangote dies and I found out he’s my real dad and has willed his estate to me…MAKE MINE CHOCOLATE CITY!!!

Just Vexing...!

I started putting up notes as an avenue to vent and dammit, that’s what I’m gonna do [doctor’s orders].

I am so sick of seeing thuggy, clueless kids at the Ceddi plaza or the Galleria walking around with Scarface, Don Corleone or Che Guevara on their T-Shirts. I hate to break it to you, but wearing all this does nut make you tough. A rebel or pass a message for a cause. The most irksome is seeing Che Guevara, Ken Saro –Wiwa etc, on a fucking T-shirt worn by people who have no idea who he is.

What's worse, I am so goddamn fucking sick of hearing the phrase "say hello to my little friend" in movies. SAYING THIS PHRASE IS NOT FUCKING FUNNY AND IT DOES NOT MAKE YOU LOOK TOUGH! IT WASN'T FUNNY THE FIRST ONE HUNDRED TIMES, YOU WON'T BE TOUGH THE NEXT ONE HUNDRED TIMES! It's become the most retarded cliché of badly written movies! I'm just sick of it. I don't understand it. I want it to end. It's not cool, it's not a statement, it's just more idiots buying into corporate America's horseshit factory of manufactured icons. By the way, did any of you see actually see the original Scarface movie?

If you write down the word "cool" as "kewl"…die! I mean, you are going out of your way to misspell a word. You're not even shortcutting out of some misguided sense of saving time. I don't understand it. "kewl," when spoken phonetically, doesn't even sound like "cool!" It sounds like "key-yule" and, if that's your intention, it's retarded! I want to rip your tongue out of your mouth for buttfucking the English language with it and for assaulting my eyes every time I see this stupid word scrawled out in print.

We are shunning intelligence in today's society and that's just fucking stupid. :-)

As a teacher’s son, I see this all the time. In today's society, we see intelligence as an undesirable trait. Kids no longer want to be seen as smart because, for some reason, that's something to be ashamed of. In a society that worships the likes of Paris Hilton, Nollywood, Timaya and the Twilight series, I feel very certain that unless this trend is reversed, we will see the end very soon.

What makes me angry is that, while I am no tremendous intellect, I like to think that I'm a smart person and, when I make an observation or deliver a piece of information that people don't know, I receive looks and stares like I'm the idiot for knowing something that the general public does not. Why am I the stupid one for knowing something you don't?

Ladies in particular, really... the stupid act doesn't work. All it makes guys think is, I can totally fuck this bimbo and then dump her. It's not cute, it's goddamn annoying and you can burst into flames when you do it for all I care.

Dudes, keeping it real does not mean keeping it stupid! Read, my brothers, read. And if you won’t, do not act like I should be sorry and ashamed that I’ve applied some effort to enriching my mind. It will not work! I will not dumb it down.

Pidgin English is fine and all, but it is not a suitable permanent replacement for English. If for no other reason, endavour to speak regular English as justification of the money spent on your school fees.
We need to value intelligence again. We need to stop shoving millions of naira into abysmal soccer programs and buy enough goddamn textbooks to go around. We need to stop idolizing morons who get arrested for stealing taxpayer’s money only to be released with an apology or one who doesn't know the difference between FEC and EC of Nigeria.

... Now where the fuck is my chocolate?

Nothing to say!!!

I have nothing to say. All right, that's a little untrue. I actually have a lot to say, but I just don't think this is the right time. There was something that happened a couple of months back involving the death of someone I used to know, but I don't want to write about that because there are a few people back home who know that I write these and I don't want them coming here reading things I'm writing about someone who died prematurely.

Some day - perhaps months, perhaps years or perhaps minutes down the line I will, but not now. This has nothing to do with my own sorrow, but rather the content of the blog post and its perceived harm to anyone who knew the guy.

I could write about this medical issue I'm having, but that's going to be too problematic as well because I don't know what's going on, and until I do I really don't want to discuss it or raise any fears, I'm just fine.

I could write about my turbulent, near imaginary love life…but who needs the grief.

I could write and rant about some moron or the other but honestly…who needs the grief?

I guess I could talk about Yaradua and Mutallab but is there anything that hasn’t been said? And as for everything else, there's really been no news, just more of the same.

Upcoming movies? It’s all done for a while, except maybe Iron man II.

I could write about some deep philosophical theory, but that’s not how I feel right now. To be honest I almost feel like one of those “how does it change the price of garri in the market" types right now.

I could write about how much I miss you and need you to come back home, but I guess you know all that already…Miss you ‘feef!

So, that leaves me with zip. Nothing to write about. Goddamnit, that's frustrating…

Atheists!!!

Contrary to popular belief, not all Nigerians are judgmental and intolerant. And I’m not talking to any foreigners here either I’m talking to my very own Nigerians who obviously take themselves too seriously. I’m in a bad mood today because some people insist on having certain conversations while knowing full well that they lack any capacity for objectivity. I hope you are all reading this.
I'm not going to go into a gigantic religious discussion because, to be frank, I don't give a shit what you believe and I'm pretty sure you give less of a shit what I believe. I'm making this point to some atheists [towards whom I was sympathetic] that I have made to some fundamentalists in the past... I don't give a shit what you believe.

You don't believe in God. Hey, good for you! Don't come and make your point when someone is telling us about the death of their mother or the christening of their child or even how they’re praying to pass an exam or get a job! An unsolicited opinion is never welcome and just because you think you've got the universe figured out, doesn't give you an excuse to act like an indignant idiot. If you don't let the fundamentalist, religious nuts do it, what gives you the right to?

This is where you usually give me the "everyone hates us" and “we’re misunderstood” shtick. I’m not saying it's easy to be an atheist, but you chose to be one.
Let me point out here that I have nothing against atheists. As matter of fact I have a few good friends who are atheist. However, you cannot horn in on conversations, expel your point of view, and then mock everyone who doesn't agree with you. Holding your heads high while sitting in some bubble of pseudo-superiority. If you were to encounter this in a spiritual individual, you would call him/her a mindless lemming. What does that make you?

Again I say I know lots of atheists and I love them, but many of you are over-opinionated morons and you're not doing your own movement any favors.
Besides, no one knows the nature of the universe and, spiritual or not, we're all equally stupid. Besides, if you think about it, your lack of belief in a Supreme Being and faith in nothing but the universe, its ways, order, chaos or whatever is in itself a sort of belief system, no?
See, you guys aren’t so cool after all. This of course does not give any hyper-religious nut from any quarter the right to bother me with “thank you” messages and such, because honestly, you guys annoy me just as much. But I think I've done enough complaining.