CSI Miami Season 11… spoiler alert!

Good morning people!!!

Something odd happened to me recently and I decided to share it with you guys. Before I do that though, I need you guys to think about something…

Imagine that someone walked up to you and shot you in the back of your head, killing you (God forbid). The shooter was masked so you didn’t see him and you don’t know who killed you, but it is your duty to show up as a ghost to give answers to the people you left behind. I don’t know about you guys, but as a ghost, I would have to appear to my sister. I woulda said my mum, but if I appeared to her as a ghost, she might yell at me for getting shot in the first place and getting blood stains on the expensive blouse she got me ( ._.)

So anyway, let’s say I lived in Miami at the time of this shooting and Lieutenant Horatio and Detective Calleigh (the CSI Miami people) are the ones who have to investigate the murder. They would have to ask my sister some questions and one of the first questions they would ask is, “Who do you think might want to harm this sexy beast your sister?”

Ideally my ghost should’ve already given my sister a list of all the possible suspects, including reasons why they might want me dead. The list would have;

– One or two or eight exes…

– Two frenemies…

– My former security guy… I had to fire the idiot some time ago.

– The Chicken Republic sausage roll seller that I was rude to a few weeks ago… why couldn’t she get off her lazy ass to get me change??

– People I owe money ( ._.)

– My dealer (who can also fall under ‘People I owe money’)

And maybe a few other names here and there, but that’s it. Horatio would then use this list to find my killer and the case would be closed!

But I realized recently, that I have no clue as to how long that list really is! I used to think that I treat people well (more or less). I don’t bang people’s husbands, I don’t mess with other people’s boyfriends (knowingly), I pay back money that I owe (except to my siblings) and I say ‘Please’ and ‘Thank you’. It sounds stupid, but I actually believed that I knew (almost) everybody that I had ever offended in one way or another. You would think that with all the Africa Magic movies I have watched that I would know better right?

Wrong!

So I have this friend… very vindictive and spiteful woman, but she has her good sides and she’s really not a bad person. Some weeks ago, I fell into a trap she had apparently set for me a long time ago! I’m sorry that I can’t say exactly what she did, but I imagine that it must have been fun for her, looking into her cauldron and watching me fumble. Thank God I know her well, and I know how she operates so it didn’t take me long to realize that I was the victim of one of her revenge plots…  so I was able to save myself and I got out quickly, before she got to the fun part. And it wasn’t just that she was trying to get back at me for something, it was the humiliating way she tried to do it! So much time and patience must have gone into setting that trap.

Yeah, initially, I was hurt and I spent all of three minutes wondering what the hell I did to deserve such evil from her and when I did it (we haven’t seen in years!). But I’m over it now. I don’t care anymore…

However, the whole episode really got me thinking;

How many other people out there hate me because of something I knowingly/unknowingly did to them?

Is there enough paper in this world to list the number of people who want me dead?

If I was being electrocuted by a naked wire, how many people would turn off the circuit breaker and how many would plug their phones to my body to charge?

Do you think the producers will let me come back to life and become a recurring cast member in CSI Miami Season 11?

( ._.)

I suggest that you guys review your own ghost list… there might be some names that belong there that you don’t know about. Please, don’t wait till you get shot.

As you were.

Loose me and let me go oh ye demon!!!!

Good day people…

Once again, I had a lovely weekend! I spent the entire weekend (and most of last week actually) back in my friend’s house with my our her baby!!! You might be wondering how she let me come near her child after reading about my plans to kidnap him on this blog right? Well, I called her up one evening and told her I had some very important business matters to discuss with her.  So, she stopped by to pick me up on her way home from work…

I was carrying enough luggage for a one month long vacation, but the sight of my bags didn’t even scare her at all! I think she already knew that the “important business matter” was just a trick to get her to come.

As usual, I had a lovely stay. I was enjoying myself till yesterday morning when my friend came into my room and bundled me up in the sheets. Then she gagged me and dragged me, kicking and screaming, all the way to church. It had been a while since I last went to church… I’m not talking for weddings or funerals, I mean for an actual Sunday morning, praise-worshiping, sermon-hearing, offering-giving church service.

So why has it been so long?

The truth is, I’ve sorta lost faith in “church”. I’m so scared of old-generation churches and yet I do not trust these new-age churches owned by young funky men who say things like “Gonna” and “Wanna”. Also, I’m sure you’ve noticed that ERR’BODY goes to church!!! But if everybody goes to church, who are the girls and women banging our husbands and who are the men granting amnesty to terrorists? Who???

Anyway, as for my fear of old churches, you can like to blame it on my mother.

In her church (an old-generation church), the members believe that there’s a special seat in hell reserved for women who wear trousers. They think that women who wear make-up are direct descendants of Jezebel. I used to go there when I was much younger and the looks I got could freeze hell over. I know now that I was young and inexperienced in the use of make-up. So, looking back, I guess there were days I must have gone to church looking like a young female Marilyn Manson… still all the judgmental looks and statements were unnecessary. I used to feel like the second biggest sinner on Earth (the first being Ideye).

Then, every time I got into some form of trouble, and my mum asked, “What will people say?” I knew that what she really meant was, “What will my church people think?”

Sad to say, I still carry that mentality even in my old age.

So, every time I enter a church, a part of me fears that first of all, I’ll start to convulse. Then maybe I’ll fall on the floor, and start shaking like my vibrator, and foaming in my mouth, with my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Then the pastors might gather round me and try to exorcise my demons by praying in tongues and sprinkling Holy water all over me, till my skin starts to melt and peel in the places that the water touches…

Thank God none of that happened on Sunday. I’ll be honest though; I didn’t enjoy the service at all. It was a typical new-age wanna-gonna church so I already had my doubts going in. The choir was heavenly, the music was beautiful, but the message (which is usually the main thing for me) was pointless and painfully boring… all ten minutes of it. Maybe there was someone who needed that word at that particular point in time, but that someone wasn’t me.

Don’t get me wrong… it had all the necessary sound effects (enough “Whoop whoops!!” and “Yes Pastors!!”). It had the right amount of ginger (“Turn to your neighbor and say, God is in control!!”)… and it had the appropriate amount of self-fondling (“Put your hand on your breast chest and say to yourself, I am a blessing”). It had all the proper ingredients, but it just didn’t do it for me…

The best part about the service was that it was over in an hour n’ a half and some of the male ushers were cute as hell. After service, my friend untied my hands and feet and took me out for lunch and some ice-cream to make up for it 😀

Yes, she spoils me rotten!!!

Anyway, since I suffered no adverse reactions in church yesterday, I’ve decided to try somewhere else this Sunday. I mean, if Tu Face, a guy who has a baby mama for every day of the week, recognizes the fact that “nobody holy pass him”, why should I feel like such a sinner, right?

In the meantime, I want you to turn to your neighbor and tell your neighbor, “Have a blessed week!!!”

😉

No explanations, just babies…

Good morning people!!!    😀

I just made a life-changing decision…

More like, I’m in the process of making a life-changing decision. Let me tell you about my weekend first because that was how I got this crazy idea.

It all started on Saturday morning… there I was, lying in bed, bored stiff, broke as hell and feeling sorry for myself. I was listening to music on my phone and thinking of six million ways to die. I had gotten to number 4,875,394 when my friend called me up. She said she was on her way out and asked if I wanted to come along…

“Hellz yeah!!!” I said…

One hour later, she came to rescue me pick me up and off we went! I had been craving that Coldstone’s Coffee lovers only ice-cream the whole of last week so that was the first place she took me to; to get some ice-cream.

I don’t know about other girls but when a girl takes me out, it’s not the same as when a guy takes me out. I don’t get asked out very often by guys, but when I do, I’m always very wary…

Almost every guy has a version of the story where he took a girl out on a date and the date ended up costing him an arm and a leg… it could be that his date came along with her friend, or maybe she ordered enough food for her entire community, or she insisted on “take away” for all the girls in the left wing of her hostel. Either way, by the end of the date, the dude doesn’t have enough money on him to pay for everything she ordered. We’ve heard it a million times before…

And that’s why I’m always wary. I don’t want to be the girl who made a guy deposit his Bold 5 in a restaurant and walk from VI to Surulere because he used his transport money to pay for my Chow mien with Sweet & Sour sauce…

HOWEVER, when my female friends take me out… Oh Lawd!!! Pardon my French, but I fuck that menu up! I get two types of desserts, I order for food I can’t even pronounce, and if the food arrives and it resembles Lizards fried in batter, I’m not ashamed to ask for my order to be changed… One time, I even ordered for VAT ( ._.)

After the ice-cream, we got pizza and then ended up at her place. Sunday was the best cos it was a full house and we made a big lunch 😀 Even my brother came over.

I had so much fun! Did I mention that she has the most adorable baby in the whole wide world? He was honestly the best part of my weekend. We played together, ate together and slept together… he even laughed at all my jokes. I fell MADLY in love with him and I can’t say for sure, but I think he feels the same way… I tried to steal him as I was leaving yesterday but I got caught when my friend noticed movements in my handbag. After a few hours of interrogation, I confessed and handed him over. Besides, he had started crying inside my handbag and no one there believed that it was the sound of my ringtone.

Ok, that last part is a lie…

I didn’t really steal him, but it was SO hard to say goodbye 🙁 Eventually, I did say goodbye and handed him over grudgingly… his mum went to work, he went to daycare and I came back home.

That was when I started thinking of having a baby of my own… I’m 30 years old, and the men aren’t exactly kicking my door down. The truth is that, if I had a child right now, I would owe no one any explanations. My dad might re-re-re-disown me and my mum would probably relocate to Kano in shame, but that is really the worst that could happen. I’m old enough to not owe any explanations. Only thing stopping me is my unemployed state… I can’t have my baby drinking pap and Cowbell milk when he/she should be drinking Nestle Good Start formula.

So, I’m going to answer a few questions that some of you are asking in your minds:

1. Yes, I agree that “God’s time is the best” and that God is “sending me my husband”…

2.

  • No, I don’t think I’m too old and I’m not afraid that my eggs are turning to omelets…

3.

  • Yes, I understand having a baby is more than having a little person to play dress-up with and it entails a lot of responsibilities…

4.

  • No, I don’t give a rat’s ass what “people will say”…

5.

  • No, I don’t think it’s selfish of me to bring a child into this world without a father… I’ll just tell the kid that his/her dad died in Vietnam.

All I need now is a well-paying job and a kindhearted individual to donate his swimmers…:D

See  you guys tomorrow.

We are closed for business!!!

Good morning people!!! I’m in a much better mood today…

Not like I was in a bad mood on Monday. I was just lamenting… it took me a few hours to write that post because I had to choose my words very very carefully. I wanted to get my message across and at the same time try not to sound like a materialistic, attention-starved, money hungry welch. And, I didn’t really plan to hurt anyone’s feelings…

Apparently, I did because I got a call from an ex the same day. He was genuinely upset after reading my last post. He said he didn’t appreciate the things I wrote and all that I implied. I told him that nothing was “implied”. It was quite explicit… I even went back to the post to make sure I didn’t mince words anywhere.

I couldn’t understand his pain because it wasn’t like I mentioned any names. Besides, me and him ended eons ago. I don’t even consider him to be an “ex” because of how we ended. It was a messy ending… very Jerry Springer-like where this girl comes to his house while I’m there and I ask, hands on hips, and with all the confidence of a main chick, “Who the hell is this and why is she calling you boo?!” Meanwhile, the girl is mad as hell and spitting fire so he has to take her outside to cool off.

Long story short, it turns out the chick was the main chick after all… and judging from all the accusations she threw at him, I was evidently the chick beside the side chick. In my defense, and so that you guys don’t think I’m completely daft, both main and side chicks lived in different towns, so I really had no way of knowing :'(

The whole time they were outside, I was watching them from inside the house. Initially, my calculations told me that since I was still inside, and she was the one he took outside, she must be the side chick. I was already practicing how I was going to rip him a brand new asshole and two new nostrils when he got back. But, after watching their body language, and listening to her scream about “the five years of my life I have given you”, my side-chickness started to slowly dawn on me…

Anyway, after a loooong while, he somehow managed to tame her and convince her to leave. I think he promised to come and get her later from her sister’s place. By the time he got back to the house, I had left… gone through the back door. Never looked back.

All that drama was such a long time ago! Imagine my irritation at listening to him go on and on and on about how he did the best he could at the time… then he ended by trying to list all the things he ever did for me while we were together. Suffice it to say, the list was shorter than the list of GEJ’s accomplishments…  dude got stuck at number 3!!

Erm… three things in a space of SIX MONTHS??!!

Whatever.

I’m ready for another phone call today… the battle line has been drawn. And all the things I should’ve said on Monday, I will say today.

This isn’t really what I wanted to talk about… I wanted to conclude Monday’s topic. But there really isn’t too much left to say. I can’t even stand and beat my flat chest and boldly say that I will make a change. There’s no guarantee yet that I will treat the next guy differently so I’m just going to be on my own for a while…

You know the saying, Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Well, until I figure out a way to stop giving out free milk, plus suya, plus cowtail pepper soup, plus steak, plus minced beef (for meat pie) and any other food you can get from cows, this bitch is CLOSED FOR BUSINESS!!

Have a splendid day people!! And thank you…

 

Warri has carried last…

Good morning people.

So I’m back home… back to my drab, dreary and painfully boring life where it feels like I’m taking care of everyone else around me and no one is taking care of me in return. I really didn’t want to come back, but when my friend and her husband packed up my bags, threw them over the fence and then changed the locks, I took the subtle hint and left. Besides, I had run out of clean underwear so I had to go.

Anyway… after attending two weddings, two weekends in a row, naturally, I started to think about the dilapidated state of my love life. If I had to use one word to describe the current state of my love life, it would be ‘Policecollegeikeja’… (Actually, that’s three words but I just took out the spaces to make one long word 😀 )… but yeah, you get my drift.

To be honest, I’m quite content being on my own. I love my own company and I’m not afraid of being single. Yeah, there are periods when my single-hood bugs me but most of the time I’m fine… especially in this day and age where Vit. D comes in all forms- rubber, plastic, metal, battery operated, strapped on to a willing friend etc.

Lemme tell you how it is…

Where guys are concerned, I can actually be described as ‘easy’. I’m not easy in the sense that I’ll jump in your bed the minute I meet you… usually I will wait at least five minutes after meeting you (-_-)

Calm down people… I’m just kidding…

Anyway, I mean I’m easy in the sense that, guys don’t usually have to leap through hurdles to get me. If I don’t like you, I will spit in your face and leave no doubts. But if I do like you, you will know. Another thing is, I’m eager to please, I don’t ask for much and I don’t expect much in return. The only guy I ever really gave a hard time was my very first boyfriend (and first love). We were together for quite a while; about 5 years, 8 months, 3 days and 18 hours… but who’s counting right?

An analysis of every other relationship or friendswithbeneship I’ve ever been in after that first one, shows a steady pattern in the kind of guys that I attract or end up with… but these guys don’t know each other from Adam, they didn’t attend the same primary school, there was no round-table meeting where they all plotted to treat me more or less the same way. The only thing they have in common is me!

After further analysis, I have come up with two possible theories;

  1. My picture is hanging on a wall in my village and my village people who are chasing me have made it so that only douchebags come my way.
  2. The problem is from me.

I’m going with the 2nd theory because my village people are not that smart.

So, now we know the problem. We have accepted what the problem is. But we gotta wonder; how the hell did I become this girl?

I’m the girl who has to sit and listen to him bitch about how badly his ex-girlfriend treated him. He goes on and on about how he still regrets selling one of his kidneys to be able to buy her the latest Congolese human hair… thank God for me and my baldness though, because he would never have to make such sacrifices. I don’t need hair…

I’m the girl he calls on his way out with his friends… he calls to let me know when he’s leaving, then calls some hours later to let me know he’s on his way back home. He’s excited and he’s telling me how much fun he had and he’s describing all the fine-ass girls they tried to set him up with. Too bad I’m the intellectual type; I don’t like to go out… I like to sit at home and study the chemical reaction that takes place on the wall when paint dries on it.

I’m the girl who doesn’t really talk to you about her problems because “you wouldn’t understand” when deep down she knows that you really don’t care either way.

I’m the girl he picks a fight with as soon as there’s an alert from the bank. Then after a while, when the money has run out, we are friends again and we’re happy eating bread and drinking coke, while watching movies on my laptop on a Friday night.

I’m the girl who assures you that two minutes is all I really need… forget about my porn collection and my battery operated dildo. Why didn’t you hear any sounds? Well, it is because, like Jesus, I cum quietly, like a thief in the night… *sigh*

That’s the kinda girl I am…

The sad part is, I can’t change who I am. It’s too late to make changes… I can’t learn now to start making outrageous demands. How do I tell a guy that I feel like eating Chinese food… in fucking BEIJING??!!

For someone who has spent the majority of her life in Warri, and being an Igbo girl, I have apparently carried the position after last…

Have a blessed week people. And thank you.

We’ll finish this off tomorrow…