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Tuesday, December 21, 2010

2010 THE LAST QUARTER

Yes so 2010 has come and gone and guess what People every thing happened precisely in the last quarter

In between all the mayhem

I got a job the type dreams are made of ......very strong career path

Met a sophisticated man who proposed in the space of three months ..........

ALL IN ALL A GREAT YEAR

Thursday, September 16, 2010

CHRISTIAN MOTHER ARMS

My sight has just been abused, assaulted, taken undue advantage of because
I don't have the power to discriminate against what I see.
Rather I see first and can subsequently decide whether to look away
or remain my eyes on what ever object has caught my fancy.

The grudge I bear today is against the flabby upper arms, the saggy/sagging ones,
the bingo wings, equally referred to as Christian mother arms, those arms that neither the designers at
Gucci nor prada visualise when putting pencil to paper.

I am sure you can tell that I am truly miffed. Alas I am.
Forgive me if you have been blessed (saddled) with a pair or a unit of the much dreaded bingo wings(due to one accident or another) but my only words of comfort are please darling put them away. NOW!!!!
Really there is no justification for exposing them.

There I was minding my own business when this apparition became a reality before me.
Massive arms spewing forth from the tiniest fluorescent orange tank top i have seen in ages.

I grabbed my phone and called the fashion police but they were not forth coming.
What could I do save grin and bear it for the next minute that lasted longer than an eternity. Finally I was saved. They moved out of my line of sight. But my anterior cingualate had been damaged for life.
Even as I write they loom on my screen threatening to suffocate/squeeze the last breathe out of me.
I am tempted to stop writing but I MISSPUMPING will not go down without a fight.

I know the mantra these days is big is beautiful, my personal opinion is that this mantra does not extend to this part of the body. In fact I am boldly stating categorically here, that it is the bosoms and derriere that come to mind of the believers of the mantra.

A famous fashionista said in an interview that any woman over thirty five need not expose her upper arms (of course except she is Michelle Obama) as the chances are by this age they have started to wilt or become ridden with stretch marks and/or cellulite (no amount of diligent application of bio-oil will deliver them of the ravages of life)or one is a model in which case there is no other option .

I disagree with this fashionista and my position on the matter is that once you reach certain age and or weight. (One tends to know when one gets to such a stage) please keep the upper arms away. In the future you will be glad you did.

I personally am only interested in what is in your brain, sometimes your pocket. However without any shadow of doubt, your handbag and or shoes are sure to make an indelible impression.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

MY INHERITANCE - MY GENES

MY INHERITANCE - MY GENES
My mother is fair skinned.
I mean like proper fair skin, the kind of fair skin that
in pictures she is the first face you see. She had (in those days)bosoms that made grown men wish they were babies again. Her hips at least from what remains of them were designed for child bearing. And guess what, my three sisters took all these and left none for me. I am dark skinned and do not have much going for me in the breast side of things.

I am the fourth child in a little battalion of six.
In those days six was not considered a battalion.
At least on our block our neighbours had ten and nine kids respectively.

Being a middle child I did not have much going for me- THE NOTHING SPECIAL CHILD, just another child.
Therefore I assigned my self the grand title of daddy’s little girl.
If anything at all I was the youngest of the girls (Great Title).

Anyway the story is that when they (my parents) got to me the best genes had gone.
Trust me my older sisters are glorious to look at.
I am not saying that I am the Ugly duckling far from it.
I am just the not so pretty duckling .And yes I can say it because the truth will always
set you free (hahaha)
Bottom line is that I just that I don’t have anything in common with my (mum)parents.

Lots of times I wonder how different a child can be from the mother like I am.

Alas! of all of a sudden three decades down the line I can see the recessive genes popping up. I can’t believe it I inherited some genes from my mother. The genes she loves to hate the most.
I am developing moles around my eyes aaarhgh!!!
So much for wanting to be like mummy.
Be careful what you wish for you just might get it.

PS: This not to say I don’t love my my mum. I LOVE HER TO PIECES MOLES AND ALL. Even if I say so myself

Per Asa -"E bami kiira fun mama mi. Orisa bi iya kosi laaiye"
meaning. Help me sing praises for my mother, There is no deity like a mother any where on earth

Thursday, April 15, 2010

MY SHOES/ THEIR GIRLFRIENDS

Today it just crossed my mind that my love/lust for shoes cannot be something out of the ordinary. Can it I ask myself for the umpteenth time .It cant (see i am already trying to justify it.)

Can it be normal for a person to lie awake at night and think of the last pair of sexy shoes that have now caught my fancy. (Yes in the current climate/circumstances seeing that i dont have a man hahaha!)

In a lot of ways I dont think it is rational but I guess it is my heart telling me that it has eyes and it can see.

I have tried to rationalise it in so many times. if I see a pair that I desire, until I get it there is no rest for me. I make phonecalls to say hi but I know I just want to tell my friends about how sexy these heels are, how they are to die for,how comfortable they look, (never judge a pair of shoes by its look) ,how if I get this pair I will never want another pair . How this is the shoe of all shoes. How I have decided to take care of this pair and not let anything come between us ever again . Not even my one and only pair of (prized)Guccis. (Yes be jealous I have a pair). Or the Louboutins I shall buy when I hammer.

And I have come to this analogy/conclusion shoes to girls are like women to guys.They (men)lie awake at night thinking about the latest girl that has caught their fancy.They tell their friends of how sexy she is.How if she agrees to date them they will never want another woman again. how she is the woman of all women.How she is just perfect looks and all (never judge a woman by her looks ) How nothing will ever come between them and this woman, in this life or in the next . How they will take care of her for the rest of their lives. How they will ake sure that she is well taken care of .

Alas it is spring and a new wake of styles/designs of shoes are in. I start to lust even from office desk. I stay away from the shops I dont want to be tempted but they are there in my face , calling, beckoning for my attention what shall i do.

I shall adopt the man method I will only look I will not touch that way nothing will happen .....indeed

Monday, March 22, 2010

Farting and straight faces -Fart him to death

They say that farting without an iota of shame in front of others is a sign that u are comfortable in their presence. If that is what it really means please don’t be comfortable in my presence because I can’t be comfortable in your presence.

My father God bless him was one to enjoy a good fart and laugh at himself. I guess he was comfortable not only in front of us his kids but in the presence of others much to our chagrin.
My mother on the other hand is quite prim and I don’t recall her farting with reckless abandon .Never.

Don’t get me wrong either I am one to enjoy a got fart … I mean I let it rip when I let go I let go. But being the “classy lady” that I am it has to be strictly in the company of me, myself and I. Comprendi (understand) I repeat in the presence of only me myself and I .

I crack jokes all the time about people farting and the effect it had and all that. And I never act like a person who doesn’t fart. I mean people that come across as non-farters are often classified as uptight, superficial, pretentious, fake bla bla bla….(The list is endless).

However once in a while there are mishaps. For instance you are laughing and it slips out, not much can do or you think u have it under control and it decides to pop/burst out not much u can do there either.

The dignified approach in these situations according to “Debretts On Etiquette” (see how posh I am I know Debretts) is to apologise and asked to be excused.

But my quandary now is my manager who sits nearby in our open plan office appears to be on a mission, I personally think he wants to fart me to death or something close to that because since morning, all he has done is fart, fart and fart.But alas it is the silent scud missiles that are on offer today and I am certain it is him.
Unfortunately Debretts did not offer any advice on how to handle these situations and I am therefore at a loss as to how to tackle this.

Worse still is that every time he lets go, he starts making those make believe calls.
Conference pears give me gas that escapes from the rear orifice I therefore stay away from them. Beans have they same effect but with the added advantage of skunk fragrance. Are you thinking what I am thinking please say yes? Lunch hour is nigh and I am having conference pears to perk up my energy levels.
Tonight it shall beans spiced with garlic and then tomorrow may the best man win……

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

MY CRUSH -JIBOLA B.

Even to the meals he had for school lunch, I rememeber every single detail. Salads ; talk about Posh Nosh. he was the cutest boy in my world.


He was the headboy, he could play the recorder excellently,he was on the shool relay team. he was in kingfisher house. he had the best handwriting in class (at least that was what the teacher said all the time) . He came 1st position For two consecutive terms ,yes i rememeber .He had a nice smile as a result of having the best teeth in the world and at christmas time he was part of the christmas concert performance. He used to pull his socks up to his knees how very dapper fashion icon hahahaha OH Jibola!. I CAN EVEN REMEMBER HIS SPIDERMAN LUNCHBOX.


Yesterday I saw him again at Brent Cross shopping Centre my fav hangout after work these days .And after twenty odd years and I was instantly transported to Corona primary school .Boy did I crush all over again .

He has turned out better than I could have imagined , gorgeous as ever (married ofcourse).
And guess what peeps he recognised me called me by my full names i.e firstname and last name.
The trip is because i have changed quite a bit but he recognised me . I melted could not even behave myself I was grinning like a goat (whatever this means)thank heavens I have blossomed into a rose and was looking fly.

Pointless gist but I just thought I should share and in case he sees this there I said it. I got it off my chest at last omo u too sexy i dey loose control oooo