[design by: Heidi Helen: Photography & Design]
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
GUT FEELIN'
Today
February 2204:33
I woke up wit a start, glutchin’ my stomach. I moved my palms around my stomach, massagin’ it from side to side. I took a deep breath when realized I’d jus woken up from a dream, a disturbin one for that matter.
For some strange reason I snoozed out round 22:30 or somethin and I didn’t come back to life til four AM! My head had a steady throb inside, it was as if I got a heart in it. I reached for my phone and was surprised to see that it was four in the mornin’ and am like, whoa! Did I take a sleepin’ pill without knowin’ it? Considerin’ that I rarely sleep, sleepin’ for that long was a miracle.
Inspiration
Three things inspired this blog, one was the dream that woke me up this mornin’, the other two are connected and that’s my boy Emmanuel and a photo he commented on
A Song and A Memory
Standing here looking out my window
Nights are long and my days are cold
Cause I don’t have you
That was ‘Missing You’ a 2001 R&B smash record by Case. I wonder what he’s up to these days. Nigga dropped one decent album (Open Letters) and dropped outta sight, jus another casualty on that very long list of one-hit-wonder-ers. Oh wait, I think he had two other decent collobos, one wit Joe and the other wit RL, Tyrese and Ginwuine.
Anyways, the joint came on the radio and it sent my ass tumblin’ down memory lane. Y’all know how sometimes a song would play and call to mind your memory of a place or person, right? Well, this song always reminds me of my boy Emmanuel and some of the moves we were makin’ back in the university. “Missing you” will forever be tied to my boy Emmanuel.
Why?
Emma was the one who hooked my ass up wit the album that contained that single. Back then if there was an album I wanted so bad and I didn’t have the cash to cop it, I’d subtly try and convince any of my music mad buddies to buy that album, sellin’ them on how hot the album was.
Last Week Monday
February 1307:12
How I’ve never thought of searchin’ for Emma on the social network up until Monday last week when Missing You by Case came on the radio beats me. As the song played, I keyed in the name and got my search on and bam, there my nigga was, in a fresh black suit lookin’ almost as he looked the last time I saw him (more than eight years ago). I mean, I expected that nigga to be lookin’ like he was 9 months pregnant but nah, he kept it together (he wasn’t a no six-packer but he wasn’t close to nursing a potbelly)
After sendin’ him a friend request, I promptly went ahead to go through his wall and wasn’t too surprised when I saw a comment he’d made on one of the many friends and acquaintances we have in common from our university days. I clicked on the comment and there she was, a friend of an ex and she looked nothin’ like she looked back in school. She’d grown all chubby almost borderin on being fat.
Huh? Did I try to search for my ex too?
Nah, I didn’t…ok, am lyin’! I searched but it was out of curiosity and guess what my search came up empty!
Sometime Last Year
James' Home GymAfter a very long time, I visited James crib and I was throwed by the amazin’ Home workout equipment set he got set up in there; from treadmill to elliptical, from bikes to weights all sorts, everythin’ was on deck. Nigga got everythin’ a fitness junkie would give an arm for.
I told James how impressed I was but guess what? My being impressed wasn’t so much about the whole home workout thingamabob but more about his resolve to break his “one bag” (as he love to refer to his heavy duty potbelly) to a six pack or somethin’ close.
Now we all know that some pot bellies will remain until the second comin’ of the good Lord (except you got some kinda medical by-pass goin’ thing) but if one puts in enough workout time, that pot could be reduced to a lil eatin’ bowl. So, I was hopin’ wit the set up my nigga got, his pot gon get a reduction.
Today
20 February13:42
Seein’ the chick’s photo sorta got my ass thinkin’ on why people get fat after they say “I do”, I mean, shawtie was one of the slimmest chick I knew but now, she gained more than a few pound and I ain’t talkin’ bout the British currency!
Who is more guilty, the men or the women? I think they both but women are the guiltier of the two. Once, a woman got a ring on that fourth finger, she’s more likely to let go and jus say, “what the fuck, I got this nigga on lockdown, no need for those punishin’ diet routine shit”
Ladies, hold it right there! I know some of y’all are already throwin’ expletives at a nigga for bein’ insensitive, so jus hold it, ok?
I know y’all have a lot on your plates. I know it can’t be easy givin’ pussy to that nigga every other night after you’ve worked your ass off durin’ the day tryna take care of home. I also know doin’ the 9 months thing can put alotta strain on that booty but that’s no reason to let yourself go, huh? Am I speakin’ the truth or what?
Well, I seen a lot of examples, so it’s not like am talkin’ from without. I know the ladies got a raw deal when it comes to this but that weight can be kept in check wit resolve and support from the ones they love. Damn, did I jus sound like that bald headed nigga, Dr. Phil? Lol
…And the Men?
Back in the day when I was growin’ up, pot belly was a sign a good life. If you got one goin’, folks would automatically conclude that your ass was livin’ it up. Back then, if you were rich and ain’t no pot belly, then you ain’t big time yet.
Though times have changed and people now try their best to get their body in shape but I still see a lot of folks not givin’ a fuck. Some of these niggas still got that potbelly-equal-good-life hangover from back in the day.
Today
07:34
After putting myself through a crunchin’ 120 sit ups, I began to feel a lil better, the ghost in the dream that woke me up had disappeared but somethin’ told me it hadn’t gone completely, it was jus hidin’ somewhere, watchin’ and waitin’.
And what was dream about?
Well, let’s jus say my stomach grew to the size of James’s pot belly in that dream!
And oh, the only time James uses his home gym set is when he was to eat!
GUT FEELIN'
Today
February 2204:33
I woke up wit a start, glutchin’ my stomach. I moved my palms around my stomach, massagin’ it from side to side. I took a deep breath when realized I’d jus woken up from a dream, a disturbin one for that matter.
For some strange reason I snoozed out round 22:30 or somethin and I didn’t come back to life til four AM! My head had a steady throb inside, it was as if I got a heart in it. I reached for my phone and was surprised to see that it was four in the mornin’ and am like, whoa! Did I take a sleepin’ pill without knowin’ it? Considerin’ that I rarely sleep, sleepin’ for that long was a miracle.
Inspiration
Three things inspired this blog, one was the dream that woke me up this mornin’, the other two are connected and that’s my boy Emmanuel and a photo he commented on
A Song and A Memory
Standing here looking out my window
Nights are long and my days are cold
Cause I don’t have you
That was ‘Missing You’ a 2001 R&B smash record by Case. I wonder what he’s up to these days. Nigga dropped one decent album (Open Letters) and dropped outta sight, jus another casualty on that very long list of one-hit-wonder-ers. Oh wait, I think he had two other decent collobos, one wit Joe and the other wit RL, Tyrese and Ginwuine.
Anyways, the joint came on the radio and it sent my ass tumblin’ down memory lane. Y’all know how sometimes a song would play and call to mind your memory of a place or person, right? Well, this song always reminds me of my boy Emmanuel and some of the moves we were makin’ back in the university. “Missing you” will forever be tied to my boy Emmanuel.
Why?
Emma was the one who hooked my ass up wit the album that contained that single. Back then if there was an album I wanted so bad and I didn’t have the cash to cop it, I’d subtly try and convince any of my music mad buddies to buy that album, sellin’ them on how hot the album was.
Last Week Monday
February 1307:12
How I’ve never thought of searchin’ for Emma on the social network up until Monday last week when Missing You by Case came on the radio beats me. As the song played, I keyed in the name and got my search on and bam, there my nigga was, in a fresh black suit lookin’ almost as he looked the last time I saw him (more than eight years ago). I mean, I expected that nigga to be lookin’ like he was 9 months pregnant but nah, he kept it together (he wasn’t a no six-packer but he wasn’t close to nursing a potbelly)
After sendin’ him a friend request, I promptly went ahead to go through his wall and wasn’t too surprised when I saw a comment he’d made on one of the many friends and acquaintances we have in common from our university days. I clicked on the comment and there she was, a friend of an ex and she looked nothin’ like she looked back in school. She’d grown all chubby almost borderin on being fat.
Huh? Did I try to search for my ex too?
Nah, I didn’t…ok, am lyin’! I searched but it was out of curiosity and guess what my search came up empty!
Sometime Last Year
James' Home GymAfter a very long time, I visited James crib and I was throwed by the amazin’ Home workout equipment set he got set up in there; from treadmill to elliptical, from bikes to weights all sorts, everythin’ was on deck. Nigga got everythin’ a fitness junkie would give an arm for.
I told James how impressed I was but guess what? My being impressed wasn’t so much about the whole home workout thingamabob but more about his resolve to break his “one bag” (as he love to refer to his heavy duty potbelly) to a six pack or somethin’ close.
Now we all know that some pot bellies will remain until the second comin’ of the good Lord (except you got some kinda medical by-pass goin’ thing) but if one puts in enough workout time, that pot could be reduced to a lil eatin’ bowl. So, I was hopin’ wit the set up my nigga got, his pot gon get a reduction.
Today
20 February13:42
Seein’ the chick’s photo sorta got my ass thinkin’ on why people get fat after they say “I do”, I mean, shawtie was one of the slimmest chick I knew but now, she gained more than a few pound and I ain’t talkin’ bout the British currency!
Who is more guilty, the men or the women? I think they both but women are the guiltier of the two. Once, a woman got a ring on that fourth finger, she’s more likely to let go and jus say, “what the fuck, I got this nigga on lockdown, no need for those punishin’ diet routine shit”
Ladies, hold it right there! I know some of y’all are already throwin’ expletives at a nigga for bein’ insensitive, so jus hold it, ok?
I know y’all have a lot on your plates. I know it can’t be easy givin’ pussy to that nigga every other night after you’ve worked your ass off durin’ the day tryna take care of home. I also know doin’ the 9 months thing can put alotta strain on that booty but that’s no reason to let yourself go, huh? Am I speakin’ the truth or what?
Well, I seen a lot of examples, so it’s not like am talkin’ from without. I know the ladies got a raw deal when it comes to this but that weight can be kept in check wit resolve and support from the ones they love. Damn, did I jus sound like that bald headed nigga, Dr. Phil? Lol
…And the Men?
Back in the day when I was growin’ up, pot belly was a sign a good life. If you got one goin’, folks would automatically conclude that your ass was livin’ it up. Back then, if you were rich and ain’t no pot belly, then you ain’t big time yet.
Though times have changed and people now try their best to get their body in shape but I still see a lot of folks not givin’ a fuck. Some of these niggas still got that potbelly-equal-good-life hangover from back in the day.
Today
07:34
After putting myself through a crunchin’ 120 sit ups, I began to feel a lil better, the ghost in the dream that woke me up had disappeared but somethin’ told me it hadn’t gone completely, it was jus hidin’ somewhere, watchin’ and waitin’.
And what was dream about?
Well, let’s jus say my stomach grew to the size of James’s pot belly in that dream!
And oh, the only time James uses his home gym set is when he was to eat!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
THE SOFTEST GIFT
Sunday
August 2008
The Synagogue
Lagos
One hot Sunday afternoon in the august of 08, me and a friend got off a taxi jus a few meters away from the imposing edifice that was the synagogue church of all nations and walked to the gate. For a moment we stood there contemplatin’ whether to go straight into the premises or ask one of the church’s securities for direction but then we thought, askin’ for direction will make our asses look like a tag team of JJCs (Johnny Just Come a.k.a Mr. New-in-Town) so we decided against askin’ and jus strolled in through the gate nonchalantly.
Wait, am I talkin’ about THE synagogue?
Uh huh, the same synagogue church of all nations where the world famous man of God, T. B Joshua holds court. I know a lot of y’all have heard of the controversial prophet but jus incase you haven’t, go ahead and put your Google to work.
So there we were, me, lookin’ through the windows, checkin’ out God’s people as they got their praise on and my friend, got busy on the phone tryna a make a call. Men, gotta love how people look when they’ve jus’ been freshly sermon-whipped, folks get all meekly, wearin’ that look that always seem to say ‘I believe I can fly’. Lol
Jus as my friend got done wit his phone call and we were tryin’ to move away from where we were, I noticed a gun-toting policeman(one of the many that paraded the premises) walkin’ towards us like a man on a mission.
“You!” the man of the law said, wavin’ us toward him wit’ his gun
I looked at my friend and mumbled to myself, ‘’this glorified armed robbin’ mutha can’t be talkin’ to us as if we’re his wayward lil brothers’’
The short thick police officer came and stood in front of us wit his rusty ass rifle held firmly in his left hand
”I dey call una, una no wan answer, abi?” he broke out in broken English letting us know that he knew we were pretendin’ not to hear when he called.
Before we could manufacture a plausible excuse, he transferred the gun to his right hand, cleared his throat and said, “Yes, what do you want?”…
Wednesday
8 February, 2012
Lusaka
There was a certain kinda good feelin’ hangin’ heavy in the air; if you swished an arm above your head, you would pro’ly scoop a palm-full of euphoria. The moon was in on the whole good vibe act too cause up in the sky, it hung big (it appeared the good Lord let it hang a lil bit lower that night) and full like a happy glutton. Nature top it all off by not allowin’ any puffs of cloud in the sky. The night had all the ingredients good nights were made of but guess what? It was about to get even better
John Laing
Lusaka
20:55
From across the road where I was standin’, I watched as folks dervishly vibrate to the sound of a local hit record blowin’ out the speakers from a nearby bar. Them folks who were not sweatin’ it out to the sound of music were busy analyzing the game of soccer they’d jus seen (to an onlooker, these men looked like they were shoutin’ at each other).
Ah ha, that’s what you get when you try get heard in an environment wit’ enough decibels to render a deaf person deafer (wow, I like that one *pats myself on the back*) Lol. One doesn’t have to be a mystic nigga to decipher that alcohol was gettin’ the better of these folks cause they wouldn’t let up.
There’s was somethin’ else I noticed, somethin’ very interestin’, matter of fact, I noticed it way before I saw the other goings around that part of John Laing.
And what was it I noticed?
*takes a deep breath* I saw grown ass men queuing up, pushin’ and shovin’ themselves like a bunch of hungry boardin’ school kids queuing up for food.
I moved close to get a good of what the fuck was makin’ niggas line up at that time of the night. What I found blew my socks off.
Oh, y’all wanna know?
Hol’ on, am buildin’ up to some’ here…
Sunday
February 12, 2012
The Synagogue
Lagos
12:38
Back at the synagogue almost four years later, I watched the general overseer of the synagogue, T. B Joshua as he animatedly prophesied, “I know a lot of you want me to talk about the final game of the Africa cup on nations that will be played tonight” lowerin’ the mike away from his mouth, he chuckled and did a lil laid-back walk around the pulpit, “a small country will surprise everybody” he continued, “God wants to repay them wit happiness for the tragedy of the past when they lost theirpeople in an accident”…
Late last year, he’d predicted that the underdog would win and a lot of Zambians took the hint and ran with it. There was also a rumor that some South African medicine man (sangoma) predicted the same things.
Mulling these thoughts over in my head, I turned off the TV and got my ass to my favorite room for a lil poo poo time.
Thursday
February 9, 2012
Your ass is hitching to know what I saw at John Laing that night, ain’t it?
Well, here’s how Zambia’s foremost newspaper, The Post captured it the next day (Thursday, Feb. 9)
“Prostitutes in Lusaka’s John Laing, Chawama, Kanyama and Kalingalinga compounds offered themselves free of charge to every Jim and Jack as part of their celebration after Zambia beat Ghana 1-0 at the Nations Cup on Wednesday. A check by The Independent Post at nightclubs such as Kanyama’s Kanchembele and Chine Chikayeba found long queues of men waiting to have sex with a limited number of prostitutes.
Today
February 14
Zambia won the cup and the nation went buck wild. Some folks lost their lives while gettin’ their celebration on and lot more injured.
What, y’all wanna know if them pussy vendin’ individuals gave their goodies away free of charge again?
I’ma leave that to your imagination and the FBI in you to find out
THE SOFTEST GIFT
Sunday
August 2008
The Synagogue
Lagos
One hot Sunday afternoon in the august of 08, me and a friend got off a taxi jus a few meters away from the imposing edifice that was the synagogue church of all nations and walked to the gate. For a moment we stood there contemplatin’ whether to go straight into the premises or ask one of the church’s securities for direction but then we thought, askin’ for direction will make our asses look like a tag team of JJCs (Johnny Just Come a.k.a Mr. New-in-Town) so we decided against askin’ and jus strolled in through the gate nonchalantly.
Wait, am I talkin’ about THE synagogue?
Uh huh, the same synagogue church of all nations where the world famous man of God, T. B Joshua holds court. I know a lot of y’all have heard of the controversial prophet but jus incase you haven’t, go ahead and put your Google to work.
So there we were, me, lookin’ through the windows, checkin’ out God’s people as they got their praise on and my friend, got busy on the phone tryna a make a call. Men, gotta love how people look when they’ve jus’ been freshly sermon-whipped, folks get all meekly, wearin’ that look that always seem to say ‘I believe I can fly’. Lol
Jus as my friend got done wit his phone call and we were tryin’ to move away from where we were, I noticed a gun-toting policeman(one of the many that paraded the premises) walkin’ towards us like a man on a mission.
“You!” the man of the law said, wavin’ us toward him wit’ his gun
I looked at my friend and mumbled to myself, ‘’this glorified armed robbin’ mutha can’t be talkin’ to us as if we’re his wayward lil brothers’’
The short thick police officer came and stood in front of us wit his rusty ass rifle held firmly in his left hand
”I dey call una, una no wan answer, abi?” he broke out in broken English letting us know that he knew we were pretendin’ not to hear when he called.
Before we could manufacture a plausible excuse, he transferred the gun to his right hand, cleared his throat and said, “Yes, what do you want?”…
Wednesday
8 February, 2012
Lusaka
There was a certain kinda good feelin’ hangin’ heavy in the air; if you swished an arm above your head, you would pro’ly scoop a palm-full of euphoria. The moon was in on the whole good vibe act too cause up in the sky, it hung big (it appeared the good Lord let it hang a lil bit lower that night) and full like a happy glutton. Nature top it all off by not allowin’ any puffs of cloud in the sky. The night had all the ingredients good nights were made of but guess what? It was about to get even better
John Laing
Lusaka
20:55
From across the road where I was standin’, I watched as folks dervishly vibrate to the sound of a local hit record blowin’ out the speakers from a nearby bar. Them folks who were not sweatin’ it out to the sound of music were busy analyzing the game of soccer they’d jus seen (to an onlooker, these men looked like they were shoutin’ at each other).
Ah ha, that’s what you get when you try get heard in an environment wit’ enough decibels to render a deaf person deafer (wow, I like that one *pats myself on the back*) Lol. One doesn’t have to be a mystic nigga to decipher that alcohol was gettin’ the better of these folks cause they wouldn’t let up.
There’s was somethin’ else I noticed, somethin’ very interestin’, matter of fact, I noticed it way before I saw the other goings around that part of John Laing.
And what was it I noticed?
*takes a deep breath* I saw grown ass men queuing up, pushin’ and shovin’ themselves like a bunch of hungry boardin’ school kids queuing up for food.
I moved close to get a good of what the fuck was makin’ niggas line up at that time of the night. What I found blew my socks off.
Oh, y’all wanna know?
Hol’ on, am buildin’ up to some’ here…
Sunday
February 12, 2012
The Synagogue
Lagos
12:38
Back at the synagogue almost four years later, I watched the general overseer of the synagogue, T. B Joshua as he animatedly prophesied, “I know a lot of you want me to talk about the final game of the Africa cup on nations that will be played tonight” lowerin’ the mike away from his mouth, he chuckled and did a lil laid-back walk around the pulpit, “a small country will surprise everybody” he continued, “God wants to repay them wit happiness for the tragedy of the past when they lost theirpeople in an accident”…
Late last year, he’d predicted that the underdog would win and a lot of Zambians took the hint and ran with it. There was also a rumor that some South African medicine man (sangoma) predicted the same things.
Mulling these thoughts over in my head, I turned off the TV and got my ass to my favorite room for a lil poo poo time.
Thursday
February 9, 2012
Your ass is hitching to know what I saw at John Laing that night, ain’t it?
Well, here’s how Zambia’s foremost newspaper, The Post captured it the next day (Thursday, Feb. 9)
“Prostitutes in Lusaka’s John Laing, Chawama, Kanyama and Kalingalinga compounds offered themselves free of charge to every Jim and Jack as part of their celebration after Zambia beat Ghana 1-0 at the Nations Cup on Wednesday. A check by The Independent Post at nightclubs such as Kanyama’s Kanchembele and Chine Chikayeba found long queues of men waiting to have sex with a limited number of prostitutes.
Today
February 14
Zambia won the cup and the nation went buck wild. Some folks lost their lives while gettin’ their celebration on and lot more injured.
What, y’all wanna know if them pussy vendin’ individuals gave their goodies away free of charge again?
I’ma leave that to your imagination and the FBI in you to find out
Friday, February 3, 2012
HALF A MILLION DOLLAR PUNCH
3 February
Friday
11:03
What Would You Do For Half A Million Dollar
As any of you read the Sorrows of Satan by Marie Corelli? If you haven’t, I suggest you look for it and trust me; it’d be one of the best novels you’ll ever read. Major league shout out to my boy Scooby Steve for hookin’ my ass up with that gem back in ’02 (I almost didn’t read it cause the damn thing was all dog-eared and shit).
One of the characters in there (can’t remember if it was Prince Lucio or somebody) said some’ about not trustin’ anybody until you’ve tried and failed to purchase their integrity with money. That’s some profound stuff, huh?
Draw a line under money cause that’s the bottomline.
Now my question is, what would you or wouldn’t you do for $500,000?
Now, hold that thought while I tell you about donkeys.
Donkey
Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about Donkeys. And nah,I haven’t seen Shrek and his loquacious sidekick lately.
By the way, what’s another name for donkey?
*thinks hard* ok, I give up the act, of course I know what that other name is. It is ass or arse and if you know your bible well enough, you’ll know that Jesus triumphantly rode into town in one of those. That was the equivalent of Lamborghini in those times. Lol!
Umm, did y’all know that a female donkey is called a Jenny! Uh huh, I wonder what Jenny (we all know a Jennifer, don’t we?) would think about sharin’ a pet name with a donkey.
Sometimes Ago
Asses’ Milk
Before May last year, I didn’t think donkey was good for anythin’ other than workin’ the field and for ridin’. I was surprised to read that the milk from this animal can serve as alternative for them kids who are allergic to cow and goat milk. Italian farmers who were into the production of that shit made a killin’ supplyin’ pediatric unit.
Did y’all know that Cleopatra (as in Queen Cleopatra of ancient Egypt) kept her flawless complexion goin’ usin’ milk from donkey. What! Am I serious? Yep, I am. A range of high quality skin care products are made from donkey’s milk these days.
Some experts even claimed that that shit can help your ass lose weight. Now y’all can go ahead and thank me by hookin’ me up with a supply of donkey’s milk for givin’ your asses a new way to shed that weight.
28 January
Saturday
08:13
Drink Up
Saturday mornin’, I was layin’ up in bed and fiddlin’ wit my phone as usual, scrollin’ through my newsfeed I came across a story via a link a friend of mine posted up…I swallowed hard after I readin’ it.
Why?
Apparently, the folks at Fear Factor had shot an episode of the show last summer where they had contestants drink down a big ass glass of Donkey cum for them to move to the next round! As if that wasn’t enough, they threw in a glass of urine for them contestants to wash the cum down. Yum yum!
30 January
Monday
16:12
The notorious episode was supposed air on Monday night (30th Jan) and I was feenin’ to see how the whole thing panned out. I jumped on the net, typed in the keyword and bam! I saw this
“NBC Chooses To Pull Fear Factor Episode Where Contestants Drink Donkey Semen”
I mean why did the execs at NBC green-light that episode in the first place?
3 February
Friday
13:15
And yes, accordin’ to what I read, some contestants actually tossed that shit down their throats. Damn, I got goose pimples on my skin right now *shivers*
So now that the episode’s not showin’, am left wit a coupla questions for the producers…
How did they collect cum?
The guys who drank the funky stuff, did they drink it in vain?
One thing is for sure though, if I was one of them contestants, I will make sure NBC catches a case; I will sue their ass for a huge sum.
So, back to the question I asked earlier, what would you or wouldn’t you do for a crack a half a million big ones? Would you swig on donkey’s semen?
What? Me? Would I? umm, all am goin’ to say is, half a mill in greenbacks is no chicken change.
HALF A MILLION DOLLAR PUNCH
3 February
Friday
11:03
What Would You Do For Half A Million Dollar
As any of you read the Sorrows of Satan by Marie Corelli? If you haven’t, I suggest you look for it and trust me; it’d be one of the best novels you’ll ever read. Major league shout out to my boy Scooby Steve for hookin’ my ass up with that gem back in ’02 (I almost didn’t read it cause the damn thing was all dog-eared and shit).
One of the characters in there (can’t remember if it was Prince Lucio or somebody) said some’ about not trustin’ anybody until you’ve tried and failed to purchase their integrity with money. That’s some profound stuff, huh?
Draw a line under money cause that’s the bottomline.
Now my question is, what would you or wouldn’t you do for $500,000?
Now, hold that thought while I tell you about donkeys.
Donkey
Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about Donkeys. And nah,I haven’t seen Shrek and his loquacious sidekick lately.
By the way, what’s another name for donkey?
*thinks hard* ok, I give up the act, of course I know what that other name is. It is ass or arse and if you know your bible well enough, you’ll know that Jesus triumphantly rode into town in one of those. That was the equivalent of Lamborghini in those times. Lol!
Umm, did y’all know that a female donkey is called a Jenny! Uh huh, I wonder what Jenny (we all know a Jennifer, don’t we?) would think about sharin’ a pet name with a donkey.
Sometimes Ago
Asses’ Milk
Before May last year, I didn’t think donkey was good for anythin’ other than workin’ the field and for ridin’. I was surprised to read that the milk from this animal can serve as alternative for them kids who are allergic to cow and goat milk. Italian farmers who were into the production of that shit made a killin’ supplyin’ pediatric unit.
Did y’all know that Cleopatra (as in Queen Cleopatra of ancient Egypt) kept her flawless complexion goin’ usin’ milk from donkey. What! Am I serious? Yep, I am. A range of high quality skin care products are made from donkey’s milk these days.
Some experts even claimed that that shit can help your ass lose weight. Now y’all can go ahead and thank me by hookin’ me up with a supply of donkey’s milk for givin’ your asses a new way to shed that weight.
28 January
Saturday
08:13
Drink Up
Saturday mornin’, I was layin’ up in bed and fiddlin’ wit my phone as usual, scrollin’ through my newsfeed I came across a story via a link a friend of mine posted up…I swallowed hard after I readin’ it.
Why?
Apparently, the folks at Fear Factor had shot an episode of the show last summer where they had contestants drink down a big ass glass of Donkey cum for them to move to the next round! As if that wasn’t enough, they threw in a glass of urine for them contestants to wash the cum down. Yum yum!
30 January
Monday
16:12
The notorious episode was supposed air on Monday night (30th Jan) and I was feenin’ to see how the whole thing panned out. I jumped on the net, typed in the keyword and bam! I saw this
“NBC Chooses To Pull Fear Factor Episode Where Contestants Drink Donkey Semen”
I mean why did the execs at NBC green-light that episode in the first place?
3 February
Friday
13:15
And yes, accordin’ to what I read, some contestants actually tossed that shit down their throats. Damn, I got goose pimples on my skin right now *shivers*
So now that the episode’s not showin’, am left wit a coupla questions for the producers…
How did they collect cum?
The guys who drank the funky stuff, did they drink it in vain?
One thing is for sure though, if I was one of them contestants, I will make sure NBC catches a case; I will sue their ass for a huge sum.
So, back to the question I asked earlier, what would you or wouldn’t you do for a crack a half a million big ones? Would you swig on donkey’s semen?
What? Me? Would I? umm, all am goin’ to say is, half a mill in greenbacks is no chicken change.
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