Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Mother Theresa

Kinda long post

Switched on the TV.

There was some news about the Turkish prime minister abi president being too Muslim in his beliefs and a threat to the secular lifestyle of the country (this post is not about the Turkish Prime minister abi President). Just then, subdued by the immense power of association latent in the human mind, I remembered Marisha. Cute Marisha. Petit Turkish girl. (this post is not about Marisha). The attraction was her small firm boobs, her portability and the way she loved to jump on me. I’ld say hop and she’ll leap. But it wasn’t all physical though. We used to talk. I remember one such occasion we were having a conversation on a sofa right in front of a TV and… Chinelo. OH bloody mind associations, now I’m thinking of Chinelo because we once had a convo on a Sofa right in front of a TV. (I’m not sure this post is about Chinelo).

Chinelo was not your average chic. She is pretty and pretty naive. Scratch that. Make it sublimely-out-of-this-world naive. Let me help you understand her level of naiveté.

Lonely: Chinelo

Chinelo: yes

Lonely: Where is your pussy?

Chinelo with a puzzled look points to ankle area.

That was a fictional conversation but is very representative of Chinelo’s ignorance in the way of the world.

She was so full of the bible and its teachings and I guess I was so into staying friends with her because she was absolutely intriguing to me. Hanging out with her was fun. You had to repress the urge to use swear words even when they’ll be sooooo apt. You can’t drink no alcohol. Half hugs always. Skip kissing scenes. No hands on her waist, not even to take a picture. And so on. I loved faking all these in her presence, I guess she was just too different from everyone I’ve ever known and that was somehow appealing.

Story story, stoooory. Once upon a time. Time time. A couple of years ago, on one fine weekend like this when NEPA was behaving and there was no traffic, I paid Chinelo a visit. I sat on the sofa right next to her. She switched on the TV, tuned in to TBN. Our conversation went something like this.

Lonely: Abeg can we watch something else?

Chinelo: This is Paula White (I’m pretty sure it was Paula but don’t blame me if the color is different).

Chinelo: Paula white is the blah blah blah

I blank out as I always do when she gets too spiritual

Chinelo: blah blah blah

Lonely: Good for her. I’m just exhausted and I don’t want to have to think right now so let’s watch something senselessly funny.

She gives me one of those why-are-you-not-acting-like-a-child-of-God looks then flips the channel and it’s a sitcom.

Everything went ok until some dude made a passing comment about a blowjob.

Chinelo: What is a blowjob?

My thought stream went like this: *wili-wili don die! Get the fuck outta here! Is that a trick question? Of course it is. No it isn’t. Yes it is. Blowjob? How can she not know what a blowjob is? She is testing me. She wants to taste me. OH SHUT UP! But she is 20. 2004 minus 1983 equals 21. Haba, even worse. Abeg everybody knows what a blowjob is. Not having administered a blowjob @21 is permissible but to not even know what it is is completely inexcusable. Maybe she knows I’m all charlatan? She does not. Then why is she asking me? I can’t tell her the truth! I need a good lie. And I need to say it with an easy confidence. A blowjob is how you refer to a blow-dryer’s job. IDIOT! Abeg make I silent, she go think say I no know. I don dey razz oh. I suppose stop to dey think …I ought to quit thinking in pidgin*

Chinelo: So?

Lonely: Sosoliso. (my little sis taught me that one)

Chinelo: Tell me nowwwww.

*Lord, take this cup away from me. Lord, in fact don’t worry, I’ll just ignore her.

Just then her dad is passing by, we say hi, he walks towards the stairs then she stands up.

Chionelo: hiss! Let me go and ask my Father jo.

I hold am for hand immediately.This girl wan go implicate me for him papa.

Lonely: Wait now, I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell you.

Chinelo: Just tell me already!

Lonely: I think, I’m not sure about this, In fact I have no credibility in these matters. But I think there was one day that TJ, you remember TJ?

Chinelo: That your friend that drinks?

*haba, I booze pass am*

Lonely: Eheeen, that TJ. He said that a blowjob *light cough* is an Ungodly act involving a woman’s tongue and a Man’s private area...

Chinelo: STOP!


Chinelo: STOP!


Chinelo: STOP!

*haba, I don stop since naaa.

She sat down. Hands on her chin. Gazing nowhere in particular.

*She must be saying a short prayer. Or maybe she’s playing out a blowjob scene in her head. Can she be doing both? Is that a smile? No, it’s a straight face. No, it’s a smile. No, it’s a frown. No it’s a ..

Chinelo: why did you tell me that kind of nonsense?

Lonely: Emmm, But you asked me to.

Chinelo: But you know better.

Lonely: But you forced me, besides you wanted to ask your father.

Chinelo: *Hiss* My father does not know that kind of nonsense.

One eyebrow up.

Chinelo: Do you know how long I have to not think of that nonsense before it leaves my mindspace?

Couldn’t help it. I giggled.

Chinelo: You’re laughing? You’re laughing? *tears* Your’re laughing?

What had I done? Just then I realized I had just dropped a handful of whites into a bucket of palm oil. It was a game to me but as far as she was concerned, I had corrupted her big time. Abeg its not my fault. After all everybody knows what a blowjob is and I did not mean to fuck with her blissful ignorance. I mean, who cries because of knowledge?

Things were never the same between Chinelo and I. She would feel so uncomfortable around me and was sure to keep her curiosities hidden. Gradually we hung out less and then not at all. My experiment came to an end.

Chinelo, it’s been more than three years. I hope that if we run into each other, you’ll be sooo rotten and ask me questions like “Do you want me to swallow” :)

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Fela Kuti Feat. Lil Wayne

If you call am woman
African woman no go ‘gree o
She go say
She go say I be Lady o

If you call am woman
African woman no go ‘gree o
She go say
She go say I be Lady o

She go say I no be woman
She go say I be Lady o
She go say market woman na woman
She go say I be Lady o
She go say I be Lady

Yeah Let Me Upgrade U
U May Not Be A Model, But I Can Front Page Ya
U Know Im Nasty Excuse My Behavior
Let Me Just Taste Ya
We Can F**k Lata
Sittin In Da Coupe, Lookin Like A Racer
Top Peeled Back Like Da Skin Of A Potato
Seat Way Back Listen To Anita Baker
Ridin By Myself Smokin Weed By Da Acre
Hollygrove Gata Aint Nobody Greater
Leave U Wit Some Bullet Holes Da Size Of Craters


If wishes were horses