Can’t a brother buy some cake for himself?

Hola peeps. Libere en el último. ¡Libere en el último!

Off to R.I.G. tomorrow having cleared my bowels of junk. Hmmm, might try colonic irrigation someday…nah, maybe not. Forgot to mention in last blog that folk I am collaborating with on a new revue are Chinese. Of the ten or so of them only two speak English, and little at that; but since dance is the universal language we’ve found ways to set the dance floor on fire. Man, u’d see this choreography we working on. Don’t have a name for it yet – I suggested ‘R.I.G. Move’ but peeps think it’s unoriginal - but it’ll blow y’all minds.

R.I.G. news: The Chinese guys are quite friendly and one of the English speaking ones told an apocryphal tale about a cell phone in China that is so hi-tech one charges the battery once a year. One thought crossed my mind as he uttered that statement: Bollocks. I know dude’s just trying to be friendly and his antics reminded me of the dude in charge of the tuck shop back in FGC Warri. Paddy was his name and holding on to students’ change was his game. This grown man was in charge of store where boarders would purchase provisions and for some inexplicable reason he never had the correct change. That dude musta bought a car on all the ten kobos – then staple snack of soft drink, bread and groundnut cost ninety kobo – he stashed away.

If that wasn’t bad enough Paddy would try to ingratiate with students. This might be urban myths but here are some of Paddy’s greatest hits passed on from generation to generation.

1. Some senior students talking about how they messed up in their WAEC exams. Paddy comes by and commiserates. “I know how u feel. I’d be in university now if I had passed English in JAMB. I forgot my four-figure table – Maths guide book used in place of a calculator – at home and that’s what messed me up”.

2. Students gathered talking about designer outfits. When one dude mentions the new leather wallet his brother had copped Paddy exclaims. “Wallet, abi? I have it. I have a glass wallet!”

I thought I’d forgotten such episodes ‘til I walked passed the communal bathroom on the R.I.G. For some reason the smell (stench?) of the place took me back to the not so halcyon days of boarding school. I started hyperventilating, thinking I was back in a place where every move was dictated by others. Oh man, getting queasy now thinking about it. What’s the use of having a shrink’s number on speed dial if ur network subscriber is so crap its default voice prompt assures u the number u called five minutes earlier doesn’t exist anymore. Aaarrrggghhhh.

One positive thing about this R.I.G. experience is there’s a Bush bar. These are establishments run by women who follow the land R.I.G. from location to location providing services a normal bar would. U can call them the R.I.G.’s guardians if u choose. At least I don’t have to climb the helideck to see women in canoes sneaking to the military houseboat.

Club news: I usually refer to antics of club clientele all the time and hardly ever delve into characters I work with (off the R.I.G.)….until now. U see I arrived from vacation to find desks, loadsa desks empty. The club management had informed us a while back they’d have to get rid of some folk due to the rising price of oil; yes, baby oil. This staple of the male stripper industry for yonks has gone up in price dramatically in the past year, and for a while us working men were forced to provide our own supply. We did this grudgingly for some weeks and then we contacted our NAMED (Nigerian Union of Male Exotic Dancers) rep, Mr. Hamed, who clarified the company was impinging on our rights.

We tried to go on strike but most of the older guys chose to accept the club’s generous offer – full pension and free tuition for one relative to attend the exclusive Stripper school in Holland – so we called it off. Gonna miss those guys. We shared some good times and good stories. I wonder what they would do now, I suppose consultancy is it. I know one of the dudes whom we nicknamed Martha Stewart – taught us to pour talcum powder in g-string before every performance – is on his way to the Middle East to check out sites for a new academy. I wish him the best.

Man, we gotta thank God for every opportunity we have. Dunno what I’d do if I wasn’t busy everyday. I suppose stuff would come up, but would not like to get up in the mornings for stuff I wouldn’t enjoy doing. For instance, who would wanna be that hype man on the And1 Mixtapes. How many friggin’ times can one man say “oh baby……oh baby” going on 8 years? If he really enjoyed his job he’da come up with another catch phrase by now.

Relationship news: A colleague had a party for his daughter’s 1st birthday yesterday. As we were driving there mate tried to pick up some chick but I convinced him otherwise. After a brief stop for ice cream we get to venue of party and see someone rocking the dance floor like she was Beyonce. Yup, same girl we saw on the road earlier. Dude then vents his fury at me for convincing him not to do what he really wanted to….like I held a gun to his head. Anyways, this raised an idea – yes, my brain works that way - the next time I see someone in need of a ride I’d stop and ask them to show me some dance moves to see if they worth picking up. Better still if I’m driving far distance and I need company I’d ask the individual to provide a 2-minute blurb on their thoughts about a pressing issue, the global food crisis for instance. If they make a cogent argument they in, if not they gotta wait for an okada or something.

Later that day I spoke to a friend who ends every sentence with, “..and get a man”. ”Oh I just wanna go to the supermarket……and get a man!” or “Me? Just going jogging so I can look trim…..and get a man!” She’s one of my fav people ever, and call her up whenever I need a laugh, and vice versa. She calls and I discover she’d just consoled one of her friends who got dumped, so she needed a pick-me-up. After our ten minute conversation best we’d agree on is that all relationships are hard work. Hear her: “Best line I can think of is Jennifer Aniston’s in Rumour Has It where she tells Mark Ruffalo, ‘I didn’t come here to say I cannot live without you. I can, but I don’t want to.’ U see, that’s reality. Some people don’t get this. Told my friend that when couples are on the verge of breaking up and guilty party gets off high horse and confesses they can’t live without the other, it behooves the offended party to be humble. If not, it’ll take time but guilty party will eventually meet someone who’d make them wanna live, live, and live yet again. It don’t always end like When U Think Of Me by Eric Benet. If the song continued - heck maybe Eric might write a sequel since he can’t come up with a hit nowadays, a la Eddie Murphy trying to resurrect Beverly Hills Cop franchise – u’d find that chick in question would cry for days, weeks even, for losing Eric. But then she’ll dust herself up, plaster some makeup on her face, and go out on the town…and get a man!”

Sports news: I swore not to write about sports after Arsenal and San Antonio Spurs officially ended my hopes of a championship – I know the Colts didn’t win but since a Manning took down Belichick in dramatic fashion it counts as a pseudo-championship – this season, and not to talk about sports ‘til August but the EUROs got me buzzing. Did I ever tell y’all I am half-Dutch? Well, I am now.

After a pitiful World Cup they playing like the Dutch of old, and winning too. Even Boularhoz is justifying his inclusion in the squad. Better still they wiped the floor with Materazzi and his highly uninteresting bunch and they exposed Gallas for the punk he is. I never said anything during the season in order not to jinx the Gunners chances but season’s over so I am allowed to vent, right? Good. From one French captain who Kobe’d his teammates to another whose contribution to the side was his crap hairstyle and his frequent rantings to the British tabloid press. If Gallas had spent more time improving his game and less on his coifs Arsenal coulda been double Champions. No wonder Wenger’s considering removing him as captain. If I had my way I’d ship he and Eboue off to Portsmouth or Birmingham or another Arsenal dumping ground. Woosah….woosah…

Haven’t had the time to play golf since I returned from vacation ‘cos of commitments at the strip club. No rest for the talented, eh? Instead I have been playing vicariously through Tiger Woods and his surgically repaired knee. Did y’all see his put on the 18 last night to force a tie? Ice water must run through his veins.

Speaking of veins, recently discovered martial arts classes are being conducted close to the penthouse. I know veins have nada in common with martial arts, but non sequiturs are a dying art and….okay u got me, I’m just grasping at straws here. I am definitely gonna sign up for those so the next time I am kept waiting at airports for no discernible reason I’ll be able to whup ass like Jason Bourne. To get into character I’m gonna drop some bleach in my baby oil lotion – yes, I use baby oil to keep my skin supple, got a problem with that? – so my skin whitens over time like Bourne’s. Yup, if Michael Jackson can develop a skin condition in adulthood so can I peeps, so can I.


Haven’t had the opportunity to go jogging either - hey, jogging and martial arts are both forms of exercise! - but squeezed in some time for pumping iron, and muscles ache like mad. U know how it is when u haven’t strained muscles in a while? Well, it’s worse. Think I am joking? I am currently typing this blog with only two fingers while lying on my side in bed…in the nude ‘cos it hurts to try and wear clothes….with a hot water bottle propped under arm so armpits wouldn’t stink as much ‘cos it hurts to shower let alone lift arm and apply deodorant…..oops, now mosquitoes are having a field day on my back but can’t shrug them off ‘cos it’d ache to do so. So what if I contract malaria, my chest looks buffer than ever so I don’t mind.

Tot ziens and God bless.

PS
B4 I published this went for a stroll and chose to pee in loo by the reception. Walked in just as some dude groaned, “Oh shit” from one of the cubicles. Almost doubled up in laughter and was tempted to give a witty riposte, but I know how serene one expects their doodle experience to be. Yes, I am that altruistic.

PPS
Another non sequitur here. Saw a riveting documentary, Black Magic, about black basketball players and coaches and evolvement of the game pre- and post-segregation. Woah. At the end of the movie when one of the pioneering players recalled all that had happened – Jim Crow laws, black coaches not being granted opportunities to coach at white schools, etc – dude said, “Black people are generally forgiving, so I don’t get why we had to go through so much. I’ve heard people say, ‘God uses that to test u’, but test us for 200 years? Why that long? Okay so if He’s testing I wish He, someone, anyone could tell me if I passed or flunked the test.” That brought a tear to my eye.