This gallery contains 5 photos.
In Nigeria, the expression ‘driving one-way’ actually means to drive in the wrong direction on a street that is deliberately usually not marked as a one-way street. The consequence of this action is that you would have committed a serious … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
I am about to illustrate just how you can get into trouble simply by trying to mind your own business: You’ve just gotten off the elevator on your floor where you work. As you make your way to your office … Continue reading
This gallery contains 2 photos.
My girl and I went to see Jack and the Beanstalk Jack the Giant Slayer last night and it was more entertaining than I had anticipated (Though I never noticed any female giants, which begs the question, ‘How on earth were such … Continue reading
This deliberately absurd but delightfully entertaining ‘meme‘ has been orchestrated in just about every ingeniously creative style within offices, warehouses, army camps, and even airplanes! While the dance video craze is still trending across the world faster than tweets about Pope … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
I was in a car park, minding my own business, when I caught (what I thought would be) a ‘Kodak’ moment for my Samsung-Galaxy-Note-2 (yeah, if you can say ‘Samuel L. Jackson’ then my phone’s name isn’t too long). I … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
Like me, I bet you’ve all run around with your bathing towels wrapped above your shoulders like a cape and pretended to be Superman (and if you haven’t then it’s never too late!). Ever since I was a little brat I … Continue reading
This gallery contains 3 photos.
I’m betting by now that your brain has cleverly associated this post title with the catchy yet annoying nursery rhyme in which bottles ‘accidentally fall down’ by no fault of your own and keep on falling whilst you’re frantically trying … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
Grammar /ˈgramər/ a : the study of the classes of words, their inflections, and their functions and relations in the sentence (merriam-webster.com) b : The study of how words and their component parts combine to form sentences (the free dictionary.com). Whilst working in an office, I’ve come to … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
Woke up on the wrong side of the bed Threw up, had a migraine, my eyes were red Fess up if you’ve had such a run one night Cuz it’s never a good time Checked out of the inn looking like … Continue reading
This gallery contains 1 photo.
I love music just as much as the next guy…who sings in the shower. I simply can’t imagine my life without this (the music, not the guy in the shower). I can still remember the songs my parents used to play … Continue reading
So you’ve hustled the streets of Lagos and discovered that there is a growing affiliation towards Nigerian music – you hear it blasting from the cars with lowered windows as the drivers try to conserve fuel (cheapskates) and you also see it from the number of CD singles being sold like hot cake for N150/$1 (street hawkers) . You can’t quite understand this because you remember a time when you stormed into a club with ‘Return of the Mack’ to welcome you, followed shortly by ‘This Is How We Do It’. But this is NOT how the clubs are doing it now.
Out goes the American hip-hop & RnB and in comes the Nigerian pidgin-pop & PnP (Peter and Paul, commonly known as PSquared). You’ve seen D’banj do it, Wande Coal do it, M.I do it, Davido do it, and Darey do it (though he’s arguably not as rich as the other artists) but nonetheless, a ludicrous idea starts to brew in your dandruff-riddled head – If I can record one hit song I can stop eating Indomie noodles for life!
Whilst this couldn’t be further from the truth (with zero singing experience, zero credibility and zero myspace fans to your name), miracles abound when you consider the following valuable tips:
1. Craft a cool stage name for yourself: Don’t call yourself ‘David’; call yourself ‘Davido’! Don’t call yourself Dapo Oyebanjo; call yourself ‘D’banj’. If your real name is Alex Poopoo (which has already gotten your singing career off to a terrible start) then get creative and transform your name to ‘Lexi-P’ - you get my drift? Boring names in the Nigerian music industry don’t get you very far e.g. Dare Art Alade, which was subsequently transformed to ‘Darey’, now looks and sounds much cooler.
2. Use Autotune and plenty of it: You don’t have to know how to sing – that’s years of sore lungs and ear-deafening you don’t have time for. Do what the veterans are doing – synthesize your wack voice and you will soon be sounding like T-pain, Lil’ Wayne, Wande Coal, 9ice and Wizkid, just to mention a few.
3. Make your chorus catchy with keywords (and repeat them throughout the song): The best part about this tip is that the keyword doesn’t have to be an actual word that exists in the English dictionary. For example, just say words like ’ti-ko-ko ti-koko’ and explain in your song that this the sound your heart makes when your dream girl is around you. Also, make as many exclamations as possible. Beyonce’s ’Crazy in love’ track is laced with the ‘Uh-oh’ sound which sounds like she’s made one to many blunders but works like a charm. Rhianna cleverly adds the exclamation ‘eh-eh-eh!’ to her platinum track ‘Umbrella’ and Banky W can testify to its success.
4. Infuse pidgin into every track: Remember, this is the Nigerian market you’re trying to penetrate. If you sing completely in English then you will NOT be relating on the same level with the average Nigerian. In fact you’ll probably be seen as being a stuck-up, arrogant, returnee from the UK or US who’s trying to impress those who’ve got ZERO chance of getting VISAs to travel out of Nigeria in the foreseeable future. E.g. While Darey’s ’Not the girl’ was a hit among the hip Nigerian community, it wasn’t churning the kind of public interest and cash that D’banj’s ’Ogbono feli feli’ was doing effortlessly. Today, Darey is attempting more club bangers and lacing them with generous helpings of pidgin English (The song ‘Ba Ni Kidi’ is not exactly a work of art but definitely a work of Art-Alade).
But by far the most important tip you consider when planning to make a hit song in Nigeria is to make an appointment with the Hitmakers. Yes, the Hitmakers. Every desperate artist in Nigeria who has engaged in business with them has made certified hits (I have been discouraged by some of my blog fans to mention actual names). The artists themselves do not own up to that fact, nor do the Hitmakers who prefer to keep their dealings private. Somehow, I feel we know who they are. I imagine if you were to go to their secret studio your nauseating song would be transformed into a beatilicious cocktail of pidgin and nonsensical exclamations in no time. I can give you the lead…but it’ll cost you :)
I leave you now with the infectious track ‘Kukere’ which is a mega-hit in Nigeria. Don’t worry about what it means, just enjoy it! (well, it actually means ‘Don’t worry’ in Efik – one of many Nigerian languages).
If I had a dollar for every time someone said to me, ‘Do you have N5k? I’ll pay you back at the end of the month’, then by now I would probably be under intense investigation by the EFCC (the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission). I mean, for crying out loud! we only just got paid last week! Broke already??? Are you owing the mafia or your mistress, huh? which is it?!! – Those are among some of the burning questions which I’m often tempted to throw to my prospective debtors, but I dare not ask (for fear of a diabolical answer…yikes!).
It all starts with the dreaded (physical) approach, which you almost never see coming. The approach is accompanied by a plausible story along the lines of a deal to be closed, rent being due or some other financial commitment. After you’ve assimilated the story then comes the amount being requested (which I probably feel is only an eighth of what they really want to ask for). You ponder over it for a few minutes and you feel inclined to dip your hand into your wallet to make someone happy. That person promises to redeem his IOU which you stupidly decided was not needed in writing. By the time it is month end, you’re hoping to get a cheque sent over to your desk or at least an sms credit alert confirming payment of the sum owed - but alas, you get zilch! You take it upon yourself to track your debtor and he/she starts to avoid you; you both just always happen to be going in separate directions. He/she suddenly becomes too busy to attend to you and even pick up your phone calls.
The worst part is that when you finally get to confront them about the debt THEY want to give you attitude. You become the pest who’s being inconsiderate because you’re asking for your own money. IOU forgotten, trust broken and friendship lost (along with your money). Ladies and gentlemen I give you the rules of lending:
Rule 1 – Assess the capacity of the debtor to pay back.
Rule 2 – Assess the willingness of the debtor to pay back.
Rule 3 – Keep record of the debtor’s stories (e.g. his/her father has to be buried…again)
Rule 4 – Lend what you can do without (not what would make you jump off a bridge)
Rule 5 - Collect a postdated cheque (they’ll know you mean business like ‘bounce that cheque’…I dare you! lol)
Well there you have it. You have mastered the rules of lending. Never again will you be duped into giving your hard-earned cash to ungrateful slobs who scavenge the earth. They’re lucky you’re not even charging interest (or pressing charges). Till my next article, lend responsibly!
1. He insists on taking you to a takeaway joint on your first date.
2. On your second date at a restaurant, he cunningly goes straight to the main course menu in the hope that you don’t bother ordering for starters or appetizers.
3. Before making the order he keeps trying to confirm from the waiter whether the portions are filling enough for the prices being charged.
4. He asks the waiter if the restaurant charges for tap water.
5. He asks for a second round of complimentary bread rolls.
6. He finishes every single crumb in his dinner plate and starts criticizing yours with comments like, ‘Are you gonna eat that?’ or ’I knew you wouldn’t be able to finish that.’
7. He tells you right after dinner that he’s tried the dessert before and they weren’t any good.
8. He pays for dinner, knows he’s due to be given some change e.g. fifty Naira (about a third of a US dollar)…and waits for it.
9. He leaves without tipping either the helpful waiter, the courteous doorman, or the smooth-tongued security guard who’s been calling him ‘Chairman’ all the way to his car.
10. He tells you he’d like to do this again sometime, and then when the time comes he offers to cook dinner at his place instead.
If you’re a cheapskate or someone who went on a date with a cheapskate then do share your horror stories 
Excuse /ik-skyϋz/ noun. something offered as justification or as grounds for being excused; an expression of regret or failure to do something; a reason or explanation put forward to defend or justify a fault or offence (Sources: Google, Merriam-Webster.com).
Not everyone is skilled at making things, but you don’t need a lecturer to teach you how to make ‘excuses’ – that’s second nature to us. Everybody, at some time or the other, makes excuses but the ones that piss me off are those coming from people you care about.
Some of my good friends have given me very flimsy excuses. On one occasion, I had invited a couple of them over for food and drinks (I never even imposed that they bring a customary bottle of wine like Europeans do). I gave one month’s notice, a week’s notice and then finally a day’s notice. On D-day, however, one hour went by, and then two, yet no one had shown up to my shindig, which eventually turned out to be a shitdig (you dig?). Among the excuses were:
I probably had more excuses lined up but I wasn’t ready to waste my valuable call credit hearing them. Needless to say, being a master of plan Bs, I simply called another bunch of friends the following weekend and I went from shitdig to shindiggity-do-dah! What a fuckin’ riot!
Excuses should be limited to places where they’re less likely to hurt a person in particular. For instance, the office gets a barrage of excuses which don’t directly hurt any one particular individual. Some of the popular ones I’ve heard include: ‘I had the runs’; ‘My car didn’t start’; ‘I had a flat tyre’; ‘There was an accident my way to work’; ‘I forgot my phone at home and had to go back’ etc. And when they start getting less creative, you got concise excuses such as ‘Family emergency’ (because no supervisor or boss usually wants to know all the gory details for possible fear of being asked for financial assistance).
I’ve often wondered, are excuses just creative lies or are they ever believed to be genuine (even when they are)? I’ve used them…I’ve used them a lot, unfortunately. All the times I’ve been invited to one function or the other, times when I was supposed to clean up my apartment, times when should have gone to the gym, times when I should have said a short prayer before starting my day…I’ve even delayed this post for a while and I have no excuse for that. To all those who plan on making their next excuse, consider the following: Would you like it if someone told you that same excuse? Are you sure you haven’t used the same excuse for the same person? What’s the worst that could happen if you say yes?
It’s late now. I want to go to bed. I feel I’ve written enough on this topic…well, like them or not, those are my excuses
See also D is for Desperado
It’s the year 1990. You’ve recently splurged on your new phone and you just can’t wait for one of your friends to call you. It’s got a mean green LCD screen, soft alpha-numeric keypad, a two-inch antenna, and a long-lasting battery which you’ve already estimated can be passed down…to your grandkids. You sit in the mist of your counterparts at the bar after work with everyone’s phones placed on the table and you all start to argue over whose phone is smarter, and that’s when you realize your phone is desperately trying to hide behind your beer glass. Why? Its intimidated by the competition and you should be too – phones are supposed to be an extension of your personality, aren’t they?
The Nokia 3210, for example, was the must-have phone back in the day. It was a cool tool. What it lacked in colour it made up for in its addictive Snake game. You could leave it in the hands of a hyperactive toddler and be rest assured that it wouldn’t be smashed to pieces after being used as a mallet – it’s that durable…and it weighs a tonne. With over 50 annoying polyphonic ringtones (and the sad option of being able to compose your own ringtone) there was a lot to amuse oneself. However the phone is not exactly a babe magnet nor does it shout ‘Hey! I’m keeping up with technological advancements’. What it does say is ’I think it’s time you got an upgrade because people are giving me funny looks and let’s face it…you’ll never get past level 9 in Snakes’. The absence of a built-in camera is its major setback and it’s not social media-friendly either. But if it’s any consolation it will last you a lifetime!
Fast forward a little and it feels like the transition from black and white to colour television is repeating itself. If you’re a typical Samsung fanatic complete with the Samsung refrigerator, LCD TV, laptop and tablet, then I’m betting a hundred to one that you’ve already got a snazzy, technicolor Samsung phone. What I like about Samsung is it’s over-the-top use of colour to wow its consumers. It’s like having your very own kaleidoscope in the palm of your hand (I guess Samsung decided to take on the ‘rainbow in my pocket’ challenge and actually won!). Sadly I don’t sing the Sam-song.
But while Nokia and Samsung phones tend to keep things simple e.g. Searching through your contacts to make a phone call or composing a text message, Sony Ericsson believe the more complicated a basic function is, the more sophisticated you appear to be (er…try clueless). Sony took the concept of Differentiation and completely turned it over its head…to the detriment of potential phone users. This is No Phone for Old Men – the phone will only amuse and confuse them (unless they’re patient enough to read the bulky manual…and even that is in small print).
Low and behold, the emergence of the smartphone reminds us that we are stupid and that we need a phone that can do all our thinking for us. Today you have phones that come with a QWERTY keypad because the phone manufacturers think some of us are too stupid to use the alpha-numeric keypad any longer. In fact, some of us are also believed to be so lazy that we need touchscreens because keypads are just too much pressure for the fingertips and thumbs. It’s already bad enough that I’ve got one hand occupied with a ‘dullphone’ whilst I’m using the urinal but trying to use two hands on a smartphone will lead to unavoidable spillage, if you know what I mean. It seems virtually all phone manufacturers have jumped on the bandwagon, with Blackberry holding fort.
But without deviating much further from the topic, your phone makes a bold statement about you – Phones with no colour and camera would throw you into the Stone Age category; phones with swivel/slide, mp3, video or touch screen technology would throw you into the Techy/Nerdy category; whilst phones that happen to be the latest to hit the market (and are usually expensive and are only changed when another new phone is trending) would put you in the I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-my-money category. Such people want to be noticed by everyone and would steal any opportunity to flash their nifty gadgets. If it doesn’t spark up conversation then it’s probably your phone not theirs. By the time you’re done talking to them their phone will be all that you remember.
So there you have it – the type of phone you use can tell someone if you’re simple or complex, cool or old school, and whether you’re smart or dull trying to get smart. My theory isn’t founded, of course, but we’re all making our two-worded judgements (‘show-off!’, ‘smart-alec’ or ‘dumb-ass!’, they’ll decide 
)
For all those aspiring to get their hands on that golden symbol of perfection I’ve wiki leaked these tips which the Oscar judges don’t want you to know:
…and if you still haven’t won an oscar after applying all these principles time and time again, then don’t despair…there’s always the posthumous Oscar award up for grabs!
des·per·a·do /despəˈrädō/ a bold or violent criminal; a desperate person who has no hope. If you’ve ever heard anyone say, ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures’ then take a wild guess what they will be getting up to? No Good, that’s what!
Just a few days ago I was looking outside my office window when I suddenly noticed some commotion involving a motorcyclist and some banking officers. In the centre of it all was a man grimacing on the tarmac. It was reasonably safe to assume that the corporate vehicle the banking officers were in had hit the poor man. To my surprise I saw the victim grabbing hold of the grill of the car as the driver tried to reverse. Was this a foiled hit-and-run? Coincidentally a colleague of mine, an eye-witness, narrated what really happened…
The corporate car had just driven out of the car park and stopped by the pavement to pick up the banking officers. The driver came out of the car to put items in the boot before setting off. Unfortunately as the driver was about to get back into the car a motorcycle carrying a passenger clipped the driver’s door even as the driver quickly tried to close it. But what happened next baffled my colleague – the motorcyclist turned his head, peered into the car and after ’sizing up the talent’ seated in the backseat he proceeded to literally fall off his bike! Everyone around the scene looked on with disbelief…including the motorcyclist’s passenger who had already jumped off the bike unscathed.
The motorcyclist started to clutch his knee with ‘agony’ and strategically positioned himself in front of the rogue vehicle (so as to prevent the embarrassing scenario of the driver zooming off). He deliberately left his bike lying helplessly on its side while standby motorcyclists assisted to get it off the road. The driver knew the desperado’s game but he wasn’t ready to deal. They argued with each other and the fault was knocked back and forth like a tennis ball in a Nadal vs Federer endurance match. When the driver finally called a time-out he attempted to reverse the car in order to make a getaway. The trickster unexpectedly grabbed the grill of the Slow and Furious Toyota Corolla. He was barely dragged 10 inches before the car driver decided to stop and re-evaluate his next tactic.
The next and most effective choice of play by one of the banking officers however was to grease the motorcyclist’s palm (not literally, of course). At least that cut short his endless lament about how he was denied the payment he otherwise would have received from his passenger before the ‘wack-cident’ (nobody heard the passenger shout, YOU LIE! in the background, sigh). After the car sped off the injured motorcyclist miraculously stood on his two feet, mounted his bike and all onlooking motorcyclists cheered and hailed him – not because he made a quick recovery but because he had made a quick buck! N1000 ($6 or thereabout). The desperado rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after…
Have you witnessed any acts of desperation? Are you an ex Commando Desperado with a few nasty stories to share? Like Fraiser Krane, I’m listening
See also C is for Cursing
Cursing /kûrsin/ verb. The use of swear words, usually in an exclamation (www.about.com). Also known as ‘Cussing’.
For centuries the art of Cursing has evolved and has become a staple part of day-to-day communication in a world where things tend to go wrong…a lot. A sensitive topic for some, Cursing is supposedly a taboo (especially for the self-righteous). But I know what my first utterance would be if I were Jesus and I walked into a holy temple and suddenly discovered it had been turned into a marketplace – ‘WTF?’
Many times I’ve resisted the urge to belch out the filthiest swear words known to man…and many times I’ve failed. If it wasn’t the time I sped into an obscure pothole on Third Mainland bridge in the dead of the night, then it was probably just yesterday when for the first 3 hours of the day my laptop was rendered useless due to a ‘fatal error’ in its configuration. As a matter of fact my outdoor lunches in the past two days have been very cuss-worthy; I scoffed a sumptuous Spaghetti Bolognese with house fly, and the following day I gulped a mouth-watering bowl of green leaf soup with maggot (compliments to the chefs for testing my sanity and gag-reflexes).
Road rage probably accounts for most of my uncensored profanity in the confines of my soon-to-be corrupt black Chery. For every jerk who unexpectedly swerves into my lane I unexpectedly scream ‘FFS!’ - and if you don’t have a clue what that means then you probably will after you’ve driven on Lagos motorways for a few years. Personally, I think anyone who can keep cool after a couple of grazes on the bodywork, a dented bumper or fender, and a broken headlight is full of BS.
My Ghanaian friend is an advocate of free speech. He would literally go into a tantrum of exclaiming ‘FH!’ for two main reasons: Either he had to pay a ridiculously huge phone bill that month, or he had misplaced his phone somewhere for the umpteenth time. I can’t recall saying to anyone, ‘FY‘ (at least not recently) and I nearly omitted the ‘I’ in an email correspondence at work when sharing FYI-type of stuff. But rest assured, if I wake up for work late, break a dish plate, forget my wallet at home, lose another follicle on my dome, or burn my 2-minute Indomie noodles, I will be serenading unsuspecting eardrums with the F word.
Cussing arguably does not have a place in the world, especially in the workplace – it’s highly unprofessional and uncouth. But I bet that swear words are statistically more popular in everyday vocabulary than humble (and boring) words like ‘Sorry’ and ‘Please’. So am I suggesting that swear words are cool? HY!
Just try recounting a really funny or extraordinary story to a close friend and you’ll soon see how quickly you’d be reaching for a decent helping of cuss words to spice things up. If it was a scary experience for instance you’d probably have been ‘sh**ing yourself silly’ or ‘scared sh**less’ or just wondering how everything got all FU.
I’m kinda on the fence about the word ‘Screw’ though. I mean, every other day in Lagos I potentially get screwed over by my mechanic and I think one of my neighbours has a screw loose but it would be going absolutely too far if I told someone SY. It may be the way I’m feeling but FFS I have to live with ‘em so I better watch my manners (This year though before I renew my rent I pray that neighbour would just FO!).
If you used to cuss or swear and you don’t anymore then good for you! If you still do (and you want to stop) then you’d probably need to watch the company you keep, cut down on music with explicit lyrics, stop watching anything with Samuel L. Jackson in it, and maybe just live in a bubble. And if you think this advice is a just a load of BS then you can KMA
See also ‘B’ is for Blunder
Everybody has a limit; a time when you say to yourself, ‘Enough is enough! I can’t take this anymore! I’ve had it up to here! And without half-realizing it, you’re actually psyched up to walk up to your boss (whom is obviously an avid fan of The Apprentice). You’ve just had the verbal lashing of your life and then you and your boss stare at each other (squinted, of course) like you’re about to have a cowboy showdown. Both your tongues are armed and ready in their ‘holsters’ as each of you is about to unleash one deadly bullet; hers engraved with the words, ‘YOU’RE FIRED’ and yours engraved with the words ‘I QUIT’ but only one of you will get the satisfaction…
It was over a year ago when I was constantly caught in the middle of crossfire; endless tirades of abuse and ridicule all in a bid to reduce me to a bucket of nerves. I actually looked forward to going home to encounter my noisy neighbours. I knew that I couldn’t retaliate physically, nor could I retaliate verbally but I had to approach this duel strategically.
Like a spare bullet I needed a back-up plan…a safety net…some comfort that would allow me react to my boss without any dire repercussions. I knew some people in management but she knew some more prominent people in executive management – so that was a no-go. I also had a good rapport with Human Resources (HR) but my boss had them eating out of her palm whenever she wanted her stinker copied into your personal files. My situation seemed helpless, though there was one final option I hadn’t considered…
On D-day (Demolition day) I had previously been granted my 2-day study leave request by HR but my boss had told me I was still expected to come to work despite submitting a comprehensive handover note. I didn’t argue at first. So I’d lose one day – at least I had one more day available to study for my professional exam (EEEEH! Wrong!). At the close of business that day my boss told me I was expected to come to work on my second day of study leave, thus defeating the whole purpose of my leave request! I left her office and typed a short letter at my desk. I walked back into her office shortly after and then reached into my ‘holster’, firing a resignation letter straight between eyes. She never saw it coming!
She didn’t take it sitting down though – she was livid about how I could do such an ’immature’ thing and went on about how she refused to accept my letter – that’s just as dumb as saying ‘I refuse to take this bullet you just shot into me’. I didn’t stick around for all the barking (for fear of getting Rabies if I was suddenly within biting distance). I briskly returned to my desk and signed into the iQuit application (which was more commonly known as the Exit Management portal). It was an incredibly easy application to use. You just stated the reason why you wanted to quit and then you had to confirm that you were absolutely sure about the decision since you would have to reapply in order to…(I had already pressed the Yes button before reading the rest of that statement actually).
So where did this spare bullet come from or was this a suicide mission? Well, truth be told, I had actually gotten a written job offer a few days before D-day and the timing couldn’t have been any better. I flung my jacket over my shoulder with one hand in my pocket and bounced out of the office with my flat nose pointing to the sky. In this deadly battle I had the last shot…the last say…and the last laugh
Blunder /blǝndǝr/ noun. a usually serious mistake typically caused by ignorance or confusion (the free dictionary). As usual, the Crazy Nigerian is able and willing to give you real-life examples to help you cherish/despise the word even better:
On a particularly hot, sunny day my colleague and I were making our way from the head office to the nearby car park; a 3-minute walk. Just as I was beginning to doubt the effectiveness of my Right Guard ’24 hour’ antiperspirant, we finally got there only to be told that the company car was at the second car park, which to my annoyance was in the direction we had just come from; in fact, it was directly opposite the head office! After the heavy sighing we did a ’180′ and set out for the other car park. But before I could breathe a sigh of relief as I approached it, my colleague got a phone call from one of the security guards to say that the car had been found in the first car park! Barely containing my frustration I decided to wait while my colleague went back and got the car; I thought I’d probably have to wait about 5 minutes before I would be basking in the coolness of leather-laced air conditioning. 15 minutes later however, sweat patches were forming under my T.M. Lewin whilst my shiny head was getting a free sauna treatment. Like Elton John I was ‘still standing’ by the side of ‘yellow brick road’ in front of the second car park waiting for my colleague and the driver to zoom by. Where in Oz was this elusive company car?
Suddenly a blue Toyota Corolla with slightly tinted windows was ‘trafficating’ in my direction until it came to a halt. I went round to the other side of the car to join my colleague in the back seat. I opened the door and jumped into the car with my eyes half-closed from heat exhaustion and expecting to hear something along the lines of “Sorry for keeping you so long. Another car was blocking our car and they had to go find the driver then…” But to my surprise the remark I got was, “Who is this man?”
Lo and behold I had gotten into the wrong car! The suited-up gentleman and his driver looked puzzled. I (and the expression on my face) couldn’t have seemed more lost than Alice in Wonderland. As a matter of fact, I was ’Jollof in Blunderland’ and I was wishing a rabbit hole would swallow me up. I can vaguely remember trying to laugh it off and apologizing at the same time but it sure would have been a different story if I walked right into my own abduction. Witnesses would say they last saw Jollof entering a car to go see a client but he never came back (yikes!). I was one sun-tan away from Idi Amin’s complexion when the car came another 10 minutes later.
More recent blunders I’ve committed this week include uttering a potentially offensive comment in an appropriate scenario (allow me to elaborate). Over the weekend a pair of spectacles was left in my office section. After asking around the following Monday it was clear that a visitor or customer had forgotten them. A few days later a lady came to my section, left shortly after, and then she returned minutes later because she had forgotten an envelope. Her timid remark was, “Oh, I didn’t know I left this here” to which I retorted, “Do you use glasses?” Now, I realize how that may have come across but if you read between the lines I was innocently trying to find the owner of those abandoned spectacles…honest!
Equally worse was when my lady boss exclaimed just as she was leaving for the day, “You guys didn’t complement my new shoes like Mr. So-and-so did!” and then I retorted, “But ma, when I talk to you I’m looking at your face”. The whole team was in hysterics (except for Mr. So-and-so, whose fidelity was indirectly thrown into question – yep, he’s married).
But enough about me, what about your blunders? I dare you to share…I double-dare you as a matter of fact. Are you willing or are you chicken?
See also ‘A’ is for awkward
Say I were to lock you in an empty room with no windows, no pictures (and no idea why I would lock you up in the first place) but all you had in the middle of the room was a red button with the boldy written instruction, ‘DO NOT PRESS THE RED BUTTON’. Now, how long would it take (after all the crying, kicking and screaming) before you start considering doing the one thing which you’ve been instructed not to do? An hour goes by and maybe you start to think that the red button must be your only way out; that’s the optimist in you talking. But nah! you’ve watched way too many sci-fi movies so you’re going to stick with your gut instinct – pressing the red button must be a bad idea.
While you contemplate what you would do in that situation, I want to share a few other bad ideas of my own…
About a fortnight ago I decided to get creative with my blog and add a few dodgy links which I was fooled into believing would send my blog traffic through the roof. I got the shock of my life less than 24hrs later when I got the following message on my Blackberry:
“What happened to your blog? It is no longer available”
My heart must have stopped beating for a second as my field of vision narrowed down to those harrowing last 5 words. After trying to visit my blog I discovered the bitter truth (and it wasn’t easy holding back the tears) – all those crazy articles…gone, I thought. Apparently my site had been reported for contravening the ‘terms and conditions’. I proceeded to press the ’Contact Support’ button and wrote a heart-wrenching plea to justify the reactivation of my blog or better yet, the resuscitation of the The Crazy Nigerian. It was probably the best thing I ever wrote on WordPress because in less than 24hrs my blog had come back to life (woo-hoo!).
Trouble is like a sleeping lion – it’s just lying there minding its own business until someone crazy enough walks up to it and decides to tug at its tail. Which brings me back to the red button – would you press it? I would. What’s the worst that could happen?
This post has been modified to comply with the Image vs Text DPchallenge. Picture this: He is about to erupt like a volcano. He’s been running around all day and he’s not yet had a chance to empty his swollen bladder. He finally makes it to the toilet and just barely manages to undo his jeans zip whilst stomping his feet like he’s been treading barefoot on hot coal. At this point his eyes are already firmly rolled to the back of his head as he positions himself to take aim into the toilet bowl below. He has already made up his mind to take a stand because in HIS mind he’s a sharp shooter. So he brandishes his ‘piss tool’, he aims, he shoots and to his surprise he misses…but the toilet seat gets it.
This is a common phenomenon that has baffled women for centuries; not the fact that men miss but that they choose not to lift the toilet seat up. Now, I’m going to attempt approaching this sensitive topic as objectively as possible. There are 4 types of men that use the toilet:
a) The Lazy man – This breed of man makes up close to 80 percent of the world’s population. They consist of those who are ready to take a piss just about anywhere in public. They urinate directly on the DO NOT URINATE HERE signs, at least in Nigeria. The toilet seat, in their eyes, is a 50 pound weight that requires brute strength in lifting. These amateur artists will turn any white canvas into a bed of yellow poker dots. And if you expect them to clean up after themselves then please revert to the type of man (in bold) being analyzed in point ‘a’.
b) The Proud man – This type of man may not necessarily have anything to be proud of but certainly feels too big to bend over and touch a toilet seat, let alone lift it. He has more ‘important things’ to worry about. He thinks it’s someone else’s job to clean his mess up (it’s beneath him). He is often ready to criticize those that violate toilet seats and this makes him a Pharisee. He is usually the last person you would ever suspect of committing such atrocities. As far as he is concerned even his s*** doesn’t stink, but that’s another story so let’s stick with the subject.
c) The Inconsiderate man – Commonly associated with men who are in relationships and are yet to be married. They seem to forget quite easily that there is another person living with them or who comes to visit them frequently. These men tend to be stuck in their ways and believe their partners should quit complaining and just adapt. If ‘she’ says to him ‘Lift before you pee’ then ‘his’ response would probably be ‘Wipe before you sit’. Men in this situation would agree that the toilet seat becomes one of the trivial issues that could ignite an argument, especially if some making up was in order the previous night.
d) The Gentleman – All the ladies love this type of man. No matter how pressed he is he always manages to lift the toilet seat up and even remembers to put it back down for his lady. Some guys would say he’s soft, others say he’s a pushover. But women say he is a considerate, humble and diligent man. He is the pee-ing man’s role model. He aims and hits his target. He only makes up less than 20 percent of the world’s population and most of his type were raised by decent parents, have great toilet etiquette, and write crazy blogs and wear bow ties….
“Babe, I know I’ve been working late a lot lately but you know how demanding my job can be. All I hear at the office day and night is how I’m supposed to meet my target but I think I’ve already met my target…my target is You. If only I could fix my working hours like a term deposit so I can spend more time with you. I want to chase you round the garden like a big-ticket Import Finance transaction that manages to get away just when it’s within my reach. I want to have beautiful flowers sent to you everyday like SMS credit alerts. I want to take you around the world like my VISA credit card and maybe let you exchange handshakes with my close pals; Benjamin Franklin and the Queen of England. You deserve all my interest, minus the tax deductions of course. If I could turn back the hands of time I would give you more attention like my top ten customers. I wouldn’t toss your emotions from one end to the other like an electronic fund transfer. I promise to keep my appointments with you like my monthly loan repayments. When it comes to taking care of you I won’t default. My affections for you have been long overdrawn like a bad debt. This valentine I want just say that like a cheque book reorder slip I’ll be there when you need me the most. Thank you for banking on me. Yours truly…”
~ taken from the unpublished book, Romance for Dummies
Awkward /ök’ w∂rd/ adj. clumsy: inconvenient: embarrassing
That’s the Oxford Reference Dictionary definition.
However the term ‘awkward’, according to the Crazy Nigerian, can be defined as that feeling when you are:
Walking through a crowd of school kids jeering and pointing at your half-naked body after sneaking out of the boy’s toilet where you just discovered that your shirt was stolen moments after you changed into the school choir gown to perform in front your parents who were so proud of you approximately 15 minutes ago but were now shouting down your eardrums as you continued your walk of shame.
Standing up to take off the cap on your head in your primary school class with the full knowledge that the previous night your mum’s hairdressers accidentally shaved off every hair on your large head, which leaves you no choice but to heed the direct command given by your class teacher in the midst of all your classmates.
Trying to avoid close proximity and also trying to avoid using words in your conversation that start with ‘h’ or ‘wh’ after you’ve stuffed yourself silly with mouth-watering barbecue beef aka ‘Suya’ laced with raw onions and arriving at your prospective girlfriend’s place only to realize that you can’t find that last piece of Wrigley’s Extra chewing gum that was resting nicely in the ‘other’ pair of jeans you should have been wearing that evening.
Looking in the eyes of your housemate’s girlfriend whom you told the night before that you ‘really liked her moustache which looked like whiskers’ (and even attempted to stroke the little hairs) after having one-too-many vodka shots during your pre-boozing session before heading out to the techno nightclub.
Having to do a U-turn and put your head down in humiliation after snubbing some surprised onlookers but not realizing that you had stupidly driven out of your compound at 9.30am on Sanitation Day where vehicle movement was prohibited before 10am.
Trying to regain composure and avoid eye contact with an unknown pretty admirer across the street after staring at each other seconds earlier and unexpectedly walking right into a street lamp, and ultimately into a world of embarrassment.
Waiting nervously at the till of a supermarket with a week’s worth of grocery shopping as the sales attendant is on her third attempt of processing your ATM card payment while you know that you haven’t got any cash in your wallet and all you’re beginning to hear in the queue building behind you is their heavy sighing, particular one guy breathing down your scrawny neck.
I guess what is also awkward is the fact that I may see one or two of my blog subscribers face-to-face after this post is published. Maybe I shouldn’t even bother posting this article (mouse cursor hovers over the ‘Publish’ button…phone rings unexpectedly…oh darn! I’ve published it!).
Nigeria has entered into Day 2 of its nationwide strike! Make no mistake; it’s not just about the ill-timed removal of the fuel subsidy, but also about the unending corruption in governance. While it’s not expected that all Nigerians will troop out of their homes to participate in street rallies for fear of becoming ‘road-kill’, it is indeed possible to protest peacefully whilst being indoors. Here’s my quick how-to guide:
Dress like an activist. After dragging yourself out of bed and having a revitalizing shower you need to choose what you wear carefully. You may be thinking, ‘I’m not going outside so why should it matter?’ Well, if you want to be more convincing about your ‘protest-in-absentia’ you’ll need to upload a convincing picture. Grab that patriotic shirt you’ve only reserved for once a year (Independence Day) or one of the themed shirts specific to your cause. Wear it proudly and awkwardly take a picture of yourself, without looking like you’re awkwardly taking a picture of yourself (and please don’t smile – go for the frustrated/aggrieved-look more commonly associated with protesters). 
Get your cardboard and crayons out! Step back in time as we re-live those Kindergarten years because today you’ll be designing Placards (Yaaaay!) This in fact is the most convincing tool that gives your friends the impression that you are busting your butt out there on the streets. But a word of caution – do not underestimate your friends. If you take a picture of yourself holding a placard indoors you’ll become a laughing-stock. Sum up the courage to step right outside your house where there’s no laptop, sofa, TV, chairs or hanging portraits to spoil the background of your activist picture. Take the picture and run right back indoors. NB – Microsoft Experts may wish to show off their Photoshop skills and adopt the ‘cut and paste’ approach to cunningly place themselves in the heart of the rallies.After all this has been done you’ll probably be exhausted. It’s not easy protesting from home. Let no one call you a coward for doing so either. Top executives work from home and no one stops to call them fat lazy pigs! Think about that for a minute before you go all judgemental 
I personally don’t like seeing grown men being reduced to tears but from my own little research I’ve come to realize that they are sometimes justified in doing so. Here’s why…
They’ve experienced their first heartbreak. You can imagine a situation where the girl you’ve been with from childhood suddenly comes up with some flimsy excuse and dumps you…for your best friend…over the phone…on your birthday. This could aptly explain why men later go on to have serial relationships in which they exhibit little or no sensitivity as they try to shield their emotions from further shredding. Recommended Crying Options: Trickling tears, Sobbing.
Their football club performed badly. I’m not a major football fan (never have been and never will be) so I’m still baffled when die-hard football fans take some football matches so seriously and go through the following process – Anxiety (when their club is playing), Frustration (when their club is behind on points), Anger (when their club has conceded yet another goal), and finally Misery (when their club has: lost the match; the chance to win the premiership and; has consequently been relegated. The men turn on the waterworks at this point). Recommended Crying Options: Wailing, Tears with sniffles.
They’ve seen their wedding bill. This is predominantly common with African men, as they are less familiar with the ridiculous option of taking on a 3-year personal loan to finance a wedding. Love does make some men do crazy things so if their wife-to-be insists on a wedding extravaganza the Guy-Cry tends to occur when he writes the cheque…before, during and after signing. Recommended Crying Options: Tears with complaints.
They realized they didn’t marry the hotter sister. You’ll have to applaud the evasive skills of some determined women. I mean, men have to be a bit more thorough during the dating stage: ask for family photographs, browse through her Facebook contacts, etc. At the end of the day, if the hotter sister is on the other side of the world and only appears in person at the wedding then the groom should be asking himself some serious questions like, ‘Will I ever be able to act normal whenever she visits my family home?’ Such men are probably not in love. Recommended Crying Options: Tears with mumbles of regret.
They’ve taken a hit in the genitals. There are probably two categories of men who can relate to this: Men involved in high contact sports; and men who’ve made an inappropriate move on a woman. The tears literally jump out of your sockets and the pain is almost indescribable (but I’ll go ahead and make a modest attempt). It’s like an electrical surge that starts from the bowels and replicates itself into the spine and then the entire body in a matte of seconds. Estimated Time of Immobility – 15 mins approx. Recommended Crying Options: Tears with grunts and moaning.
They’ve hit that big toe…again. This equally excruciating ordeal is usually experienced by men who are very clumsy, men with big feet and men who refuse to get prescription glasses. Common objects of contact include door edges, table legs and in my own case, bed legs. Usual time of occurrence is in the middle of the night on the way to the fridge to get a light snack, or during the early hours of the morning when staggering to the toilet half-asleep. Recommended Crying Options: Watery eyes with occasional swearing.
The mother-in-law is moving in for good. Not for the man’s good, might I add. If you can just imagine a situation where men come back from a hard day at work and have to be subjected to the constant interference in all their affairs. It’s probably not so bad when the men are on good terms with their mother-in-laws but when it’s otherwise be rest assured that the wife would most likely take sides with her mum. For passive men, I have no sympathy. Recommended Crying Options: Tears on the pillow.
They’ve watched Shawshank Redemption or Armageddon. Somehow I believe, regardless of sensitivity levels, men who do not shed at least one tear drop after watching either of these movies is a cold-blooded serial killer in the making. According to Wikipedia these two movies are the top 2 when it comes to tear-jerkers for men. Click on the link to find out the rest of the Top 10 and see if you agree (or if you have any you dare to add). Recommended Crying Options: Tears with heavy breathing.
They’ve held their first child. When men see a mini-version of themselves there’s something that just melts their hearts and unconsciously turns on the waterworks. It’s either that or they’re disguising the fact that the bones in their hand were half-crushed by their labouring wives earlier. Ironically, in the first encounter between a father and his child they both cry in varying degrees. The worst case scenario is when a man cries because the child is clearly from another race (the wife would have some serious explaining to do). I don’t have any kids yet (or a wife for that matter) so I’ll have to wait and see how I react. Recommended Crying Options: Tears of joy which may include big smiles and runny noses.
If you can think of a tenth scenario where it’s ok for men to cry then I’ll be more than happy to hear it
Are you thinking of travelling to a place where you can sunbathe in scorching temperatures close to 40 degrees centigrade this Christmas? Are you looking for a place where you can enjoy delicious African cuisine, ice-cold beer, and transportation for less than $1? Are you looking for a place with zero snow, zero earthquakes, zero hurricanes, zero volcanic eruptions and zero riots? Are you looking for a haven where everyone who serves calls you Chairman (or Madam, as the case may be) and treats you like royalty? Then look no further – Nigeria is your ideal travel destination!
Nigeria is a vibrant counrty which is located in West Africa close to the equator and boasts of a population of about 150 million people – but never fear, there’s plenty more room for tourists! One of the great things about my country is the warm reception you get when you arrive at Murtala Muhammed International Airport, literally. There is no air-conditioning. Whilst you wait for your luggage on the ‘sushi’ conveyor belt, the blistering heat helps you to burn a few calories and to prepare you adequately for the sunny outdoors.
When you exit the international airport don’t be alarmed by the eager unlicensed taxi-drivers who grab your luggage – they’re only trying to help ease your burden. They may want to test whether you’re familiar with the Nigerian way by charging you like they would an aristocrat. All you have to do is to start your negotiation at half his price and work from there. They may also want to engage you in some ‘small-talk’ because we’re generally very chatty people. Do take advantage and get to know the hotspots around town so you can plan the best way to enjoy your stay. There’s a whole range of hotels to choose from, depending on your taste and your budget.
After you’ve had a good night’s rest in your air-conditioned room and enjoyed a generous helping of yam and egg-stew at your affordable hotel, you will be ready to hit the road (or hit the bed again if you had too much yam). Make sure you carry along a bottle of cold water to hydrate yourself during the course of the hot day. Getting from A to B is easy. Go to the nearest bus stop and listen carefully to the destination being screamed out by the bus conductor – otherwise, your 3-minute journey into the next town could become a 3-hour journey into the next state. Alternatively you can save a lot of money by just waiving your hand at the oncoming commercial motorcylists and shouting ‘Okada’. You’ll soon be whizzing through traffic jams whilst enjoying the humid breeze.
The first sensible place for you to go to would be one of our many hospitals. Why? You would need to get anti-malaria treatment so that you’re rest assured of not having a restless holiday. If your’re squeamish about taking injections then there’s tablets that the doctor can prescribe. Pre-treatment is far more recommended than buying a couple of Baygon or Raid sprays and fighting an uneven battle with the non-relenting population of mosquitoes. Wear long trousers at night when you’re outdoors if you want to keep those legs spotless and to avoid being mistaken for a former military officer with an involuntary reflex – ‘Attention!’.
There’s so much to see and to do, especially if you’re in Lagos. If you’re in its capital, Ikeja, there are many malls and eateries that could entice you. If you decide to go to Victoria Island you could tour The Third Mainland Bridge – the longest bridge in Africa. You could also see the magnificent toll gate structures at Lekki Phase 1 and these should be operational by the time you make your way over to Lagos so get your petty cash ready. The are so many shopping complexes and food markets boasting of unique bargains so I’m very confident you’ll find something worthwhile to buy (Remember the 100:50 pricing rule!).
There is a sense of security in Nigeria as you will notice the unprecedented number of checkpoints virtually every 5 miles of your journey by road. We even have a saying, ‘Police is your friend’. They may stop your vehicle but all you have to do is smile, stay calm, lock your doors and ignore any requests other than producing your driving licence and vehicle particulars. That said, some habits you may want to abstain from (but are by no means limited to) include: Walking in dark alleys late at night whilst talking on your mobile phone; Arguing with a gang of drunk Man U fans when you’re clearly a fan of the opposition and; urinating on walls that have ‘DO NOT URINATE HERE’ boldly printed on them.
You would be surprised to learn that our internet connectivity has gone from ’good’ to ‘good grief!’ but recently the introduction of Wi-fi has elevated the browsing experience by a big notch. Just ask your hotel receptionist for the password and you’re wired in. And for those Blackberry users most of our telecom providers have made affordable BIS available to the pubilc. You don’t have to carry so much foreign currency since there are Mallams in the black market who could strike a good deal, although I would recommend dealing with banks as they do not exhibit normadic behaviour. Most of the retail outlets in the city have Point of Sale terminals which accept foreign credit cards…point of correction, foreign VISA and Mastercard credit cards. Sales assistants call the attention of supervisors and delay you when they see an American Express card.
Do try any of our renowned beaches which include the critically-acclaimed Bar Beach, the breathtaking Tarkwa Bay, the mysterious Alpha Beach and the mesmerizing Eleko beach. Nigerians know how to party too. You have a choice of painting the town red at any of the nightclubs on the island or mainland – yes, we uphold the ‘Happy hour’ tradition but not so much the ‘Dancing on the bar’ tradition. But if you’re more interested in souvenirs then you can find ethnic memorobilia in City Mall, Ikoyi if you want to leave Nigeria with a traditional caftan or blouse and wrapper. Our array of woven head gear is also a must if you are going for that regal look. By the time you’ve maxed out your credit cards, gained a tan and picked up a bit of the lingo, also known as ’pidgeon english’, you’ll be sad that you had to leave.
This is the unique experience that awaits you. This is the life that so many expats enjoy but may be keeping from you.
This is My Nigeria
Monday October 31st, 2011. I arrived at Port Harcourt City airport after a 5-day retreat with various uncles, aunties, cousins, nephews and nieces, most of whom never believed that I would get round to visiting them (as the last 15 years went by with a no-show) and whom were not expecting me back again until 2013. I got to the Check-in desk 2 hours early and was welcomed with a short queue and no airline representative in sight. The queue was already beginning to split into a ‘Y’ formation due to the excess luggage dump of one passenger whom I reckon was relocating permanently to the Land Attracting Generations Of Scavengers. It was quite obvious that by the time the check-in desk was operational there would be a squabble over who was or who wasn’t next in line.
Lo and behold, the check-in assistant appeared about 45 minutes later and took another 15 minutes to ‘start-up’ her system, though I think she was actually going through the airline’s quick manual on how to check-in luggage (which is by far quicker and less embarrassing than reading Luggage Check-in for Dummies). Squabbles ensued as predicted and I just stood my ground like the hard-head I am. One passenger who had been standing beside the queue grabbed the wrist of the next passenger to be rightfully served and explained that his own check-in wouldn’t take long (I bet I could count the number of brain cells in his head – that wouldn’t take very long either!). That molester got the censored response, though I would have much preferred he had his luggage shoved down his throat.
Afterwards I found myself trying to get my boarding pass ‘pierced’ with an airport tax sticker which was, wait for it, free of charge! My question is, If every passenger had already paid for it in ticket prices then why did we have to inconvenience ourselves by joining yet another queue to get some little sticker on our boarding passes? Couldn’t that have been incorporated into the check-in queue? Oh I forgot, maybe that would have required even more brain power for the airline representative! Whilst in that queue I was confronted with a mushy roll of toilet paper at the tip of my shoe. Seconds later a crouched lady dumped another roll of toilet paper which began to look like it was soaked in white vomit. Before I could react I noticed that the ‘vomit’ was coming from her bloated sports bag. It was oozing. Next to it was the culprit – a bottle of body lotion which obviously wasn’t packed properly. She knew if she didn’t tidy up this mess her bag would be seized for potential bomb inspection and subsequent disposal.
On getting to the queue for screening/metal detection I was pleasantly amused by the banter going on between a tolerant screening official and an impossible passenger, whom after surrendering his phones and jewellery, was refusing to take off his shoes:
Passenger: Why do I have to take off my shoes? If this was an international flight I would understand! This is my country!
Official: Take off your shoes, sir.
Passenger: Don’t you think it is not right? Why should I take off my shoes? Do you think I am hiding something in my shoes?
Official: Just take off your shoes, sir.
Passenger: This is nonsense. I don’t see why I have to take off my shoes. You should take this matter up with your authorities.
Official: Sir, you can put that in writing. But for now you must take off your shoes.
(Official 1 Passenger 0)
By the time I finally boarded the flight I was in for some more entertainment. Just before take-off I was subjected to a 3-minute ordeal of the flight safety routine orchestrated by an air steward with a very feminine side. Each time he struck a pose I could’ve sworn he was behind the choreography of Madonna’s Vogue video. I tried hard not to laugh while other passengers appeared to stare in utter disbelief. By the time the plane took off (with a particularly turbulent assent) the passenger sitting diagonally on my left started snoring so loudly that I silently prayed for some more turbulence just to wake him up.
I was so glad when we finally touched down in Lagos city. My sanity and my luggage all in one piece, my dad’s driver picked me up and drove me home. The following day I put on my laptop, loaded my internet bundle, and pondered on the best way to start an article which summarized all the crazy scenarios I encountered on my trip back from Port Harcourt City. I titled it ’Orders, Hoarders and crossing Borders’…
I cherish my Sundays – Church at 7am; breakfast around 10am (full English, of course); Siesta from 12pm till my stomach begins to grumble for lunch; and all the cable TV my four-eyes can handle thereafter. You can therefore imagine my bewilderment when at about 6pm I got a tweet on my blackberry from a friend claiming he saw a hilarious picture of me that made him ‘ROTF’ (to which I blurted out, ‘WTF!’).
The first thing I panicked about was whether there was some scandalous picture of me floating about on the web. Was I possibly completely naked or even worse, half-naked? (like being caught with your pants down doing a ’number 2′). Could some scorned ex-girlfriend be wreaking her revenge online? Had someone hacked into my Facebook account (again!) and gone flickr-happy with my photos? The suspense was killing me; that’s why I stupidly clicked on the link/url at the end of my friend’s tweet. Big mistake!
Beknown to me, I had just clicked my way into a big world of sh*t. What appeared as a twitter login page was actually a spamming site that was designed to fool donkeys like me. 30 minutes later some of my twitter contacts were sending me messages saying they can’t see the picture. Next thing I saw were tweets from myself bragging about how I made $300 online using ‘this amazing software’; and a few minutes later I was tweeting about how I lost 10kg in 2 weeks - that’s when it finally dawned on me that my twitter profile had been hacked…hee-haw!
Against my own will I decided to change my profile name and password before all my followers blocked my tweets. I can’t say that it has worked but only time will tell…
Crazy_Nigerian: This is the cool site I’ve been searching for that allows you to view the exact geographical location of all your Facebook, twitter, blackberry and i-phone pals on the map absolutely free! Just click here
http://you.must.be.an.idiot
A word is enough for the wise!
With movies like Green Lantern, Thor and X-Men First Class already in circulation, there is a host of others due to be released before the end of the year. Here are the top 5 I’m willing to sell my dog for:
1.Mission Impossible 4: Ghost Protocol - Tom Cruise must be flipping the bird to all those Anti-Scientologist hating (and of course Sofa-trampoline mocking) fans out there. After speculations of possible replacements for the Ethan Hunt role, the hunt finally came back full circle – I guess Tom Cruise’s shoes are almost impossible to fill (excuse the pun). The trailer does more than just whet your appetite - It makes you want to climb up the tallest skyscraper and make a ridiculously dangerous swoop round to another building with nothing but a dodgy bungee cord and balls of steel (well, I’m not THAT crazy). I guess the director was somehow inspired by the Bond movie ‘Casino Royale’ – this could easily have been a 007 movie. Two words: CAN’T WAIT!
2. Immortals - Ever heard of Henry Cavill? Well if you can remember a time when few people knew who Gerard Butler was until ’300′ blew us out of our minds, you’ll probably soon have Henry embedded in your minds after watching this trailer. The British-born actor looks set to make tidal waves in Hollywood and end his unlucky streak. This movie is easily a fusion of ’300′ and ‘Clash of the Titans’ (the sh#%ty remake with Sam Worthington…all he had to do was NOT shave his frigging head!). Mickey Rourke’s inclusion in the film helps give it that A-list status, thanks to his brilliant performance in ‘Sin City’. CGI does rear its ugly digital head in this adrenaline-charged epic…but who’s complaining. Two words: 3-D GLASSES!
3. Cowboys and Aliens - If you think this title is somewhat…I’m looking for the most appropriate word here…predictable, then guess what – it is! And even more predictable is the fact that the Cowboys would most certainly defeat all but one alien who has already been forced by the director to sign a binding contract to reappear in the sequel aptly titled, ‘Cowboys and Aliens: Texas Showdown‘. This movie looks like a cross between Men In Black and er…The Good (Daniel Craig), the Bad (Aliens) and the Ugly (Harrison Ford). Watchability looks very promising and you just can’t help but hope that Clint Eastwood does a cameo (wishful thinking, I know). Two words: SADDLE UP!
4. Captain America: The First Avenger - Since the recent release of Green Lantern, comic book fans have been feigning for a quick ‘superhero’ fix…and apparently, so did Chris Evans in the movie before he went from puny to ‘Arnie’ in 3 seconds flat. DC Comics have outdone themselves this time around and I dare say that it looks more impressive than the bombshell that was Superman Returns. This is as patriotic as a superhero can get and I think Wonder Woman should appear in the sequel. Marriage could follow at the end. Two words: Aye Aye!
5. Transformers 3: Dark of the Moon – On to the last but not the least of my top 5 list (phew!). Shia Lebouf is back with his allies (more like alloys) in this rip-roaring reel of colossal mayhem. In my opinion the humans in the movie just seem to be in the way most of the time – you want to see the ROBOTS! (which is more than I can say for the poor actors who have to stay at a blue screen during filming). The first release was good. The second installment was even better. Only time will tell if this new movie will garner more fans than Megatron aka Leader of the Decepticons aka the Baddie. Two words: Optimus Prime! :D
What movies are you looking forward to seeing this year?
...because life happens to all of us & sometimes we get a second chance...
#Computer science #Hardcore programming #Graph theory #Machine learning #Quantum computing #Algorithms#Fun page
Finance / Technology / Science / Life!
BuckwheatHealth.wordpress.com
Practicing what I preach!
One day, I'll look back and smile knowing that i wrote my heart out
All you need to know
A bucket list blog: exploring happiness, growth, and the world.
sharing my world with the world. Humourous and Relatable articles peppered with common sense
I write about Life. I write about Love. I write what everyone is thinking, but afraid to say. I am an Igbo girl and it's nice to meet you
Details are Everything
Everything is better through a pair of ridiculously large glasses
This is a blog that gives you access to Fashion, lifestyle, Entertainment, with cultural notes and lots more.See the world through Audrina's eyes
Observer of life, lover of books, Law, laughter...Writer. I love creating characters, flawed like the rest of us...
From the desk of Mike Martinez
Healing and helping
A Bird Doesn't Sing Because It Has an Answer, It Sings Because It Has a Song... There Is No Greater Agony Than Bearing an Untold Story Inside You. ~ Maya Angelou
My story about moving to Nigeria, thoughts on things that are happening and everything else!
Make it, Snap it, Eat it!
Cute Overload :D
You need the world, and the world needs good people.
Just like the horse whisperer - but with more pages
Stuff from James Huff
An Englishman, his Sicilian wife and an Italian / English Dictionary
The over-thinking, tree-hugging Karachiite who comes from Abu Dhabi.
Not for everybody.
...growing...learning...story...telling!
Opening doors to enhanced life experiences by uncovering the unseen
4 out of 5 dentists recommend this WordPress.com site
Driven To Create By Any Means Necessary!
An Ob/Gyn gone mad
Clearing My Thoughts. Speaking My Mind. On My Own Terms.
The greatest WordPress.com site in all the land!
"Take a shot, do something different 2day because it just might end up being a remarkable story". peter2013
Law With a Personal Touch
The unfortunately funny tales of lady leisure
Just a guy who loves riding and writing about small town life and motorcycles
A great WordPress.com site
I write when the choice is to die if I don't
I'm Still Hot, It Just Comes in Flashes!
Showing America how to Live
" Just a thought".
