A hard day's night....

Hola peeps. Que tal? Bien. El funcionamiento justo fuera del dinero y necesita un cierto malo verdadero del dinero. Que? U see I just received my first paycheck from my mates’s, erm, establishment and all I can say is the bloke’s a bastard. I’da read the small print b4 I committed myself to a 1 yr contract. Man, u’da heard them during New Strippers Orientation. “This is a cool place to work…..we’ll treat u like a person and not just a cash cow……some of our alumni met their wives here…..” Boy, was I a sucker. Their presentation was top notch and they had data on everything to prove that working for them would be the right thang to do. I’da asked them how many relationships have been messed up due to the insane work hours. The punks! It’s one month and I’m already jaded. Thought I’d be making a change in women’s lives by doing this, but now I know that all I am to my employers is a cash register. Maybe I’d knuckle down and get on with it; after all it’s only a year. Maybe if I stopped working out 2ice a day and developed a beer gut they’ll be forced to let me go. Hmmmm, that’s a wonderful thought.

Guess I’d not complain too much cos compared to chicks female relatives have tried to hook me up with most of my clients are Angelina Jolie. I am not saying my sisters’ (or aunties’) friends are not good-looking it’s just that the ones they wanna hook me up with are either not my type (okay, no teeth sucking here!) or not really my type. Does my family not have a clue about my taste in women?! Come to think about it I don’t even have a clue about my taste in women. The other week my mom actually tried to inquire about my love life - like I’d tell her squat. I told her I don’t feel comfortable talking to her or any members of my family on that aspect of my life. Man, reading the last sentence again it almost seems as if I have some dirty li’l secret I’m ashamed of. Just wanna tell y’all I’m not ashamed of any girls I’ve dated……except this one chick who peed standing up. Anyways, I’m glad my mom and I had the conversation cos I got to find out a few things about myself. I know my older sister’s from my mom’s womb cos like my mom she likes a good yarn; my younger sis on the other hand has a million friends like my mom and is just as gregarious. Moi? Let’s just say I now know from whom I inherited my knack for going off on a tangent. While talking (or trying to talk) about my love life mom she went on a rant about my nonchalant attitude, my childish behavior, the warm feeling one gets after a baby is born, my dad’s penchant for blowing a fuse at the most inopportune time, the state of the Nigerian economy, the Ozone layer, Michael Jackson child abuse trial, JFK’s controversial death, Backstreet Boys’ new CD and finally, back to my love life. Man, that’s an hour of my life I’m never getting back.

Speaking of parents I heard my dad and his mate got their passports switched at the airport even though they traveled to separate locations. It wasn’t til they got to their destinations that they realized what had happened. How’s that possible? U see an old mate at the airport and say: “Hey man, long time no see. Woah, what happened to ur afro? Lemme see the picture on ur passport. U sure have changed. Wanna see my passport picture?” It’d be my dad’s a secret agent and no one has a clue. My dad could very well be Nigeria’s answer to James Bond. He’s good-looking, women throng to him, er, er, that’s about it.

So how u guys been since my last blog? Hope y’all been cool. Been having car problems lately and if I’d any I woulda pulled all my hair out by now. The silver lining is that while waiting for a mechanic I get to see incredibly strange stuff. The other day I saw a prostitute in traditional attire. No kidding. Nearly laffed out loud cos the absurdity reminded me of some guy I saw in Oxford last winter: It was crazy cold when I saw this guy shouting at the top of his voice while walking back and forth outside a restaurant. I initially admired the guy for sticking up for his cause on such a cold day. What was the guy railing against, u ask. Animal testing? No. The dire state of the Earth’s atmosphere? Nope. Abortion? Not even close. This bloke was advocating a boycott of the restaurant he was walking in front of cos he had food poisoning and spent 2 weeks in the hospital after a meal there. I woulda applauded the bloke for his tenacity if not for the fact that the restaurant was one of those Eat-as-much-as-you-like places. So the guy pays 10 quid for a 3-course meal and expects top quality cuisine? U see if the guy had been smacked as a kid he’da known better.

Had a manicure and pedicure a few weeks back and I think I’ve become more ‘sensitive’ since then. This doesn’t make sense as it’s not the first time I’ve had my hands and feet pampered. A few days after my pampering I saw Hotel Rwanda, the Oscar-nominated movie with Don Cheadle, and got glassy eyed. Last week, I saw Shall We Dance with Richard Gere and J.Lo – hey, I was bored – and felt a slight pang during the scene with the ballroom dancing competition. What? Exactly. It’s called metrosexuality not homosexuality! A friend of mine works at a Spa – no, this friend is not a man – and has tried to convince me to visit. If a manicure and pedicure can get me this, erm, sensitive imagine what a full spa session will do. I might end up talking with a lisp and women might become attracted to me cos I’m “a good listener”. Hey, wait, since the manicure I’ve also noticed I get quite angry, and complain incessantly, at the way most peeps drive in Lagos. Damn, this transmogrification into a menopausal woman would be complete if I’d hot flashes as well. Arrrggghhhh.

Before I left the country I used to listen to a sportscaster called Larry Ichiejile (hope I spelt his name correctly) and he was ace. He’d analyze the play-by-play of the most dire football game and make it sound like it was the World Cup final. Anyways he now owns a sports radio station and I tune in to it when I wanna laff my ass off cos all the DJs try to sound like him. Serious. This is like the twilight zone, a radio station where all the DJs, even the females, sound the same. One DJ stands out though: he hosts a rock music show but sounds like a gangsta rapper. It’s rib tickling stuff. Here’s a typical update on last night’s English Premiership match (yeah, everything’s sic, i.e. no spelling mistakes here):
Kanu Nwanko, Kanu Nwankwo, Kanu Nwankwo……that pride of Afrikkkka who came back from heart surgery…….yes, him……oh oh oh….he’s so great. His SKINtillating skills have won our hearts over and over again….my my my I say……he truly is a gentle giant…..who can stop him I say, yes tell me who…..a man of many talents…….oh so great is God’s faithfulness on him…..morning by moooooorrrrnnnnning new mercies he sees……this great man’s team played last night against Chelsea. You remember the time he scored three GIGANTic goal against Chelsea? Well, that was probably at the back of the mind of all, yes I say allllll, Chelsea players…yes, he was great that day….but he didn’t play in yesterday’s game. Now to other news…

Yeah, remember how I told y’all that the Nigerian music industry’s blowing up? Same thang’s happening in stand-up comedy. Every man and his dog’s now a stand-up comedian. Went for a show two Saturdays ago and laffed my ass off. Outta about 10 comedians only one guy was crap. Not a bad ratio. Was real impressed. During one of the intermissions the DJ cranked up GIRL by Destiny’s Child. If u haven’t heard it it’s the one where Beyonce and her two backup singers go on to extol the virtue of their friendship to a female pal who’s in an abusive relationship. Blame it on the comedy in the air or the diarrhea I had, but that song got me thinking about how funny it’d be if someone composed a song empathizing with the male abuser. Something along the lines of: Man I know what u’re saying…..U didn’t mean to do it but the bitch wouldn’t shut her trap…..So u gave her one across the lips? Big deal….Buy her some flowers and tell her u’re sorry…..Stuff like that always mellows the women……
(2 weeks later) Ooops, so the bitch finally called the cops on u, didn’t u buy the flowers I told u to? U did? So what’s the pr-…oh, she’s allergic to the type of flowers u bought her….so u in jail now, huh? Who’s voice is that behind u? Is that screaming I hear? Hello? Hello? U there? Not to worry, I’ll bring some icepacks for ur arse when I visit u next week. Hello? Hey, look on the bright side, when u get out u now have the necessary credentials to become a bona fide gangsta rapper. Hello?

Peeps, it’s been fun but the dancing poles are beckoning. Tot ziens and God bless.