Friday, 27 March 2009

Blame it on the economic crisis! (Part of ASG Memoirs)

I am Afraid oh...I am very, very afraid oh!
The last year just washed past me. Honestly, probably didn’t know what was going on. I had been frolicking and having a good time without much concern for the global economic crisis or the possibility of Nigeria getting the heat from it. It has come…well maybe not to Nigeria in general but its has come to me. I only realised it had hit me like an avalanche of problems from left, right, centre and upside down.Days of impromptu holidays, eating expensive rare steaks and guzzling copious bottles of wine has suddenly disappeared. Days where men /friends/family/dad/brothers/potential toasters/potential husbands will throw cash at me have suddenly disappeared. Gone Poof with the wind!- And I hear the worst is yet to come. Lordy! Renewing my cable TV or internet has suddenly become luxury. Lets not go into hair pieces (weave on), the era of expensive Indian weaves/ human hair and premium yaki have vanished….now we have suddenly entered the realm of Darling Yaki.- Some cheap synthetic weave that causes my acne/pimple to treble every time I have it on. Pah! I even hear Women in Abuja are now contemplating having sex with more Men, because they can no longer afford batteries (me included). Pah!
Toasters (toasters mean DATE) have become less and less interesting, most dates do not add food to the package. One date took me out (trouble). We had gone on, 1,2, *dates*….. All I have is a bottle of Star beer whenever we hook up- when I say “I am hungry, I need to eat, been drinking for too long“ His reply “Ok, maybe you need to go home now- Waiter! The bill“. This toaster always insists I meet him at Sheraton at 6pm. Blimey! I say, “I work in a bank, I cant just zap and meet you up“. It was only then I realised that he was always trying to meet happy hour. Dont blame him, its economic crisis. So I thought it would be better to walk away than treat Ulcer.
The thought of my rent expiration is causing me grief. I was deciding if to get a flatmate or marry a rich man. I liked the second idea better but the first idea seemed more realistic. So I went on an expedition. And goodness me I found a potential husband by jove and two days later, he said “baby, I like you oh, next week you will be spending the week in my house”. He has already promised me all the good things of life without me asking. Holidays, Inverter and a room in his house. (see groove for economic crisis!)- While I was contemplating my exit Mr Man yanked my hand and placed it on his pot belly, saying “baby so lets do London this summer, US in December na ,So gbo?”. I nodded obediently He continued “baby, you need to cook egusi for me oh“!. Yes oh! It is that bad!!, that the idea of hanging out with a potbellied/froglike/uncouth kinda guy has suddenly become appealing and super cool!. Lets not go into how my assets have dwindled. Talking about share prices and my possible pension reserve. I have thought up several ways to tackle the imminent financial crisis. Talking about living on a budget: I have decided to curb my enthusiasm for the good life:
~Instead of wines and spirit, I’d hold on to my ever faithful Star beer.
~Instead of Expensive steaks, I’d go to the market every other weekend and cook a good pot of egusi. Thank God I like carbohydrates....or even consider going vegetarian. Beef is ridiculously expensive
~Instead of my regular club house, I will do irregular Unique gardens now- Where a 75cl bottle of beer doesnt exceed N200 ($1,50)
~Instead of paying my cable TV subscription, I have decided to watch my neighbours own.
~Instead of holidays abroad, I will go to night bus.
~Instead of making calls, I wont credit my phone, when my friends and family call, I’ll tell them that I lost my phone and just retrieved their number. It works, half the time!
~Instead of renewing my rent, let me just find a rich husband, a Nigerian politician preferably- They wont be hit by the economic crisis- they seem to have easy access to the national cake..sorry funds..
~I am not even thinking of Diesel Generator, I am going to pack my I BETA pass.....Generator, even I BETA is a luxury item. I will use candles. (We use generators most of the time due to power failure)
~If you see any obscenely rich and pot bellied men with low-self esteem please tell him where to find me!
If I don’t blog or suddenly hibernate. I am not DEAD. Its the Economic Crisis!!!- Thanks for

Thursday, 19 March 2009

Beer googles!

Since I officially broke up with some bloke earlier this year, I have made a conscious effort to find everything attractive in Nigerian men.. I mean I always used to date Caucasians but I just started to find the idea of recklessly humping a Nigerian bloke particular appealing. I mean anytime I go out (which has turned to about 5 days a week since mum found the ‘stash‘). I particularly put my beer goggles on (until further notice). When I am out, I scan all the men available, waiters, bartenders, guards, people’s husbands, people‘s children, minors (Ok! Kidding on this one). I undress them with my eyes and imagine what it would be like to have my legs entwined in theirs. (don’t blame be, it’s the beer goggles).

I went out with the girls a couple of nights ago and as usual, we consumed litres of unspecified potent liquids all through the evening, and then we set off home. I got home at about midnight with my friends. I honked at the security guard to open the gate. I waited for about 3 minutes then saw a silhouette running towards us in the dark…as he came closer and lo and behold it was extremely sexy, six-packed-David Hasselhof running towards us in his shorts. Bay Watch Moment!!!

Like a Frisbee it hit me, Abdulahi the gateman stood before me after opening the gate’welcome aunty’. I got out of the car and walked towards him….lightly stroking his ‘abs’ and making conversation “Kai, you fit oh, you dey go gym?’ Meaning (OMG, you are fit, do you go to the gym?) and he just looked at me and shrugged sleepily as if to say ‘please hurry up you are disturbing my beastly….sorry beauty sleep‘. Then I heard behind. “Babe, move forward, go to the house, don’t look back, pass GO, don’t even collect $200, get on the friggin bed, face the wall and SLEEP”. I am done for. Lets be honest, at that point he looked like a *potential zipless lay*
Woke up the next morning feeling quite sober. The stench on my hand brought be back to memory lane (I touched the gateman, remember). I stroked my Mai-guard (security guard). That’s a No No! Even a sexual corpse wouldnt touch him. It hit me harder when I got out for work and saw bird shit on my car. The guy didn’t even wash my car. Bummer! I scrambled out of the house. When I got back, his shift had ended. Thank heavens!


Wednesday, 18 March 2009

Male Parts!

I always say I'd return to full time blogging (everyday, I say the same thing) but i never get around to it. I have been very busy (sucking on my left toe) and working. OK seriously, I have been working. A day's work in my industry is the equivalent of a labourer working in a rig for 2 months concentrated into 11 hours daily.

Now, I am here...anything to get me off facebook permanently. Its been a while, looking another avenue to vent my frustration. *sigh*

OK, here it goes. Mum was on her way to Nigeria from the UK and naturally stopped by mine for a couple of days before she went to her home in a different state. I called her a week before she came to bring my CDs and albums still nesting in my brother's storage in London for the last 17 months. Yes! I told her to bring my See Dees and Ahlbums ONLY. I wasn't expecting anything else. I go to pick mum from the airport when she arrives and she greeted me with a forlorn look on her face. I ignored it thinking she was just jet lagged or plain exhausted due to her nightmarish airport experience. We drove in silence until we got home, thinking i could spend a bit of time with her then off to work.

"I saw some things i wasn't happy with" she began. Then it clicked. She found them. I ran into the room, ransacked her stuff and found the stash...I mean my stash of sex toys nesting underneath my mum's clothes. I must have had a mild heart attack. When i eventually resumed breathing i ran out of the house, to work. After work i went for drinks with a friend and didn't come back until midnight. Mum was asleep when i got back. Next morning as i got ready for work "I have looked everywhere but i cant find them, they looked like 'male parts' and I am wondering what the handcuffs was doing there" she exclaimed. I couldn't bear to look her in the eye. A myriad of emotions ran through my nervous system: fear, shame, embarrassment.

Everyday i look through my stash i cringe... the realisation that my mum discovered a 12 inch dildo with a 4 inch girth that she assumes her baby girl is 'mounting' is killing me everyday (serious, I never used it). Suffice to say, I have been drinking ever since.