DANCE WIT' THEM FATHERS

Sunday

17 June

12:20

About thirty men of various shapes and sizes were up front gettin’ their jig on and lovin’ it. I looked around at the happy faces in the buildin’ and it kinda made me happy that everybody was havin’ a good time watchin’ these grown ass men throw caution to the wind.

I was somewhere in a front row seat crackin’ up. I was lovin’ every moment these men spent up there makin’ a fool of themselves (in a good way) and to top it all off, I was watchin’ it all go down ringside style. It kinda felt like havin’ an untrammeled sight of Iron Mike Tyson kick butt in his heydays.

30 Minutes Earlier

It was a cool day, about 18 degrees on the thermometer; it was jus like the weather people on France24 predicated the night before. I was somewhere in the back, sittin’ wit’ my legs crossed and half lost in thought, floatin’ between  slightly dirty thoughts and the good songs bein’ belted by the choir.

I was enjoyin’ my lil’ head-trip but that was until the pastor grabbed the mic from the cat leadin’ the praise and worship and put a dent in my reverie. Huh, how did he do that? He said all the men in the buildin’ should get off of their seats wherever they were and go take the front seats. It’s a well known fact 90% of the average church goin’ men avoid sittin’ in front like they gon’ contract some kinda incurable diseases out there.

Soon as the announcement came through, I’d made up my mind I wasn’t goin’ to move. Nothin’ those pesky ushers gon say would make me budge, matter of fact, it’d take a thousand strong men to unglue me from where I was perched. My resolve was strengthen when I looked around and found that all the other men were lookin’ around too, jus like me. It was a collective resolve!

Well, what I’d thought to be a collective resolve turned out to be nothin’ more than a mere hesitation, I was fuckin’ disappointed when one by one, these grown ass men grudgingly carry their bibles and made their ways to the front. I tried, men.

I stood my ground until I began to stick out like a sore thumb. I mean, what’s a brotha to do, huh? It was beginnin’ to look like I was lettin’ the devil use me. I reluctantly took my pocket bible (and nope, it wasn’t a New Testament only kinda bible like y’all are thinkin’, the whole enchilada was there) and got my ass to a front seat somewhere.

11:52

As I was beginnin’ to get used to sittin’ in front, the pastor threw another loop, he wanted all the fathers (single fathers or not) to get their asses off their seats and come to the stage! I looked around and I could swear some of these niggas were mutterin’ fuck fuck under their breaths.

The women, the wives and the young ladies were enjoyin’ the “humiliation” of their men. They were hysterical wit laughter. Ah ha! I allowed myself a wide smile but my smile froze when the pastor held up his hand, signallin’ the congregation to calm down.  I knew that nigga was about to throw another surprise and guess what? He did! He said those who were forty should come join the fathers. I didn’t qualify for any of the above. I sat tight and heaved a sigh of relieve.

11:58

As soon as the men assembled out-front, the pastor told them to fan out and give themselves elbow room; they were about to get their two-steps on whether they know how to dance or not. The congregation erupted wit laughter. I was thinkin’ to myself, if church were this fun and not jus about the fire and brimstone and doomsday rhetoric alotta pastors throw around, a lot more folks would look forward to gettin’ their church on but that’s not possible, is it? Of course, it isn’t.

Anyways, the band struck an up tempo tune hopin’ to whip these fathers up into some kind of frenzy but alas, the best they got out of these men were reluctant zombie-like shuffle. The women loved it all the same.

30 Minutes Later

Niggas began to warm up to the music and little by little, cats began to get rid of their inhibition. As their am-too-grown-for-this-kinda-gig attitude melted away, some of ‘em took off their oversized suits, tied it around their michellin man’s waist and got low wit! Niggas were doin’ all kinda of out of date 80s shuffle, throwin’ their hands in the air like John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever. The church was in frenzy! I was afraid more than a few of these unfit men might cop themselves a heart attack.

Outro

What! Out of nowhere, as if they planned it, wives began to appear on stage, shakin’ their asses and shit. From my ringside seat, all I could see for the next ten minutes were different typa asses and my thought began to get dirty. Good lawd!

Correct me if am wrong, but why is it that the ladies always want to take shine off the men once they see a nigga get a lil’ attention in the spot light without them, huh? It’s Fathers’ Day for Pete’s sake but why did these ladies have to go and bum rush stage!

This One’s For The Fathers Who Are Mothers…

DANCE WIT' THEM FATHERS

Sunday

17 June

12:20

About thirty men of various shapes and sizes were up front gettin’ their jig on and lovin’ it. I looked around at the happy faces in the buildin’ and it kinda made me happy that everybody was havin’ a good time watchin’ these grown ass men throw caution to the wind.

I was somewhere in a front row seat crackin’ up. I was lovin’ every moment these men spent up there makin’ a fool of themselves (in a good way) and to top it all off, I was watchin’ it all go down ringside style. It kinda felt like havin’ an untrammeled sight of Iron Mike Tyson kick butt in his heydays.

30 Minutes Earlier

It was a cool day, about 18 degrees on the thermometer; it was jus like the weather people on France24 predicated the night before. I was somewhere in the back, sittin’ wit’ my legs crossed and half lost in thought, floatin’ between  slightly dirty thoughts and the good songs bein’ belted by the choir.

I was enjoyin’ my lil’ head-trip but that was until the pastor grabbed the mic from the cat leadin’ the praise and worship and put a dent in my reverie. Huh, how did he do that? He said all the men in the buildin’ should get off of their seats wherever they were and go take the front seats. It’s a well known fact 90% of the average church goin’ men avoid sittin’ in front like they gon’ contract some kinda incurable diseases out there.

Soon as the announcement came through, I’d made up my mind I wasn’t goin’ to move. Nothin’ those pesky ushers gon say would make me budge, matter of fact, it’d take a thousand strong men to unglue me from where I was perched. My resolve was strengthen when I looked around and found that all the other men were lookin’ around too, jus like me. It was a collective resolve!

Well, what I’d thought to be a collective resolve turned out to be nothin’ more than a mere hesitation, I was fuckin’ disappointed when one by one, these grown ass men grudgingly carry their bibles and made their ways to the front. I tried, men.

I stood my ground until I began to stick out like a sore thumb. I mean, what’s a brotha to do, huh? It was beginnin’ to look like I was lettin’ the devil use me. I reluctantly took my pocket bible (and nope, it wasn’t a New Testament only kinda bible like y’all are thinkin’, the whole enchilada was there) and got my ass to a front seat somewhere.

11:52

As I was beginnin’ to get used to sittin’ in front, the pastor threw another loop, he wanted all the fathers (single fathers or not) to get their asses off their seats and come to the stage! I looked around and I could swear some of these niggas were mutterin’ fuck fuck under their breaths.

The women, the wives and the young ladies were enjoyin’ the “humiliation” of their men. They were hysterical wit laughter. Ah ha! I allowed myself a wide smile but my smile froze when the pastor held up his hand, signallin’ the congregation to calm down.  I knew that nigga was about to throw another surprise and guess what? He did! He said those who were forty should come join the fathers. I didn’t qualify for any of the above. I sat tight and heaved a sigh of relieve.

11:58

As soon as the men assembled out-front, the pastor told them to fan out and give themselves elbow room; they were about to get their two-steps on whether they know how to dance or not. The congregation erupted wit laughter. I was thinkin’ to myself, if church were this fun and not jus about the fire and brimstone and doomsday rhetoric alotta pastors throw around, a lot more folks would look forward to gettin’ their church on but that’s not possible, is it? Of course, it isn’t.

Anyways, the band struck an up tempo tune hopin’ to whip these fathers up into some kind of frenzy but alas, the best they got out of these men were reluctant zombie-like shuffle. The women loved it all the same.

30 Minutes Later

Niggas began to warm up to the music and little by little, cats began to get rid of their inhibition. As their am-too-grown-for-this-kinda-gig attitude melted away, some of ‘em took off their oversized suits, tied it around their michellin man’s waist and got low wit! Niggas were doin’ all kinda of out of date 80s shuffle, throwin’ their hands in the air like John Travolta did in Saturday Night Fever. The church was in frenzy! I was afraid more than a few of these unfit men might cop themselves a heart attack.

Outro

What! Out of nowhere, as if they planned it, wives began to appear on stage, shakin’ their asses and shit. From my ringside seat, all I could see for the next ten minutes were different typa asses and my thought began to get dirty. Good lawd!

Correct me if am wrong, but why is it that the ladies always want to take shine off the men once they see a nigga get a lil’ attention in the spot light without them, huh? It’s Fathers’ Day for Pete’s sake but why did these ladies have to go and bum rush stage!

This One’s For The Fathers Who Are Mothers…

A SERIES OF UNRELATED INCIDENTS

Sunday Morning

May 20

11:05

Somewhere…

Am not sure I can remember the words of the song playin’ in the background correctly, but they were some’ like

“I give you myself

You can use me”

The piano was mournful but the song was happy and soft. I was hearin’ it for the first time but I was already hummin’ the tune by the second “heard” (if there’s word like that) and that right there is one of the hallmarks of a memorable song.

“Ba ba bay bay, oh god oh god” she said again and again, moaning and shakin’ in a slow dervish motion

I tried to look into her eyes but they were closed as her body vibrated.

“Oh god oh god” she continued as if I wasn’t there, rubbing her body against mine. I wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up! Damn, didn’t she know a nigga was trying to concentrate too? But bein’ the considerate man that I am, I held back cause I didn’t want to ruin her high.

“Oooh, oh God,” she continued, whippin’ her “hair” in my face.

Saturday Night

May 19

22:23

At a Pub Somewhere Else…

83^rdminute and Bayern Munich’s Thomas Muller had jus headed home a potential winner against Chelsea wit 7 minutes left on the clock, Barney shouted with great delight from across the table, trying to get heard over the deafenin’ DJ Khalid’s All I Do Win joint booming out the speakers, “your pastor lied!”

“My pastor?” I was amused

He took a swig of his beer, ‘’Ah ha, I knew your pastor was liar,’’ he gloated. His big eyes seemed to grow even bigger wit mirth as he looked at me wit that I-told-you-so look.

I mean, me and this dude are friends (well, kinda) but we’ve never sat down to talk theology or religion front men. We’ve talked pussy and money but never a religion personality.

And of course, I knew who he was talking about but what the fuck, how’s that nigga my pastor? Okay, we are from the same neck of the wood (Nigeria), so what? I mean, I have never met the man or been to his church.

Oh wait, I’ve been to his church once before but it was for somethin’ totally unrelated to gettin’ my worship on or askin’ for a prophecy or some’. I was there wit’ a friend of mine to see a five-oh.

I told Barney the game’s not ended yet so the prophecy might still come true

Friday

May 18

10:39

From the vantage point on the counter where I was perched, I noticed the man but I didn’t really pay his no mind cause I was too busy wit my phone and I noticed he was busy wit his too…two of them, a Nokia and a Samsung and both were touch screen, top of the range shit. This cat was dark and built like a pro rugby player. He had on a navy blue hoodie over faded blue jeans.

Five minutes after I first noticed him, I heard him cussed, loudly. I looked his way; his eyes were glued to the Samsung and saw that both his hands were shakin’ like a drug addict needin’ a fix. My sensors immediately went on alert, call me nosey but I sensed a story in there somewhere, I asked if everthin’ was honky dory and would you believe it, it was as if a floodgate was flung wide open, nigga opened up to me like a confessor would to a father! It’s strange how people tend to open up to me, I mean, I don’t have that trustin’ angel face or anythin’ like that…must be that I have that je ne se quoi!

“Men, I can’t believe my wife has been cheating on me,” he said through clenched teeth

“Whoa!” I exclaimed

“Yes!” His voice sounded like a croak, like some’ was lodge in his throat.

I guess that’s what it sound like when a grown ass man is broken, huh?

“Am sorry, man,” I consoled.

He shook his head and looked at the Samsung phone in his right hand again.

“How’d you find out?” I prodded, givin’ the man an understandin’ look, well at least, what I thought to be an understandin’ look.

In my head, I was like fuck it, I don’t even have a wife, how could I possibly understand what this nigga was goin’ through but hey, I gotta do what I gotta to do to get this tale outta him.

“My wife’s phone, he raised the Samsung, had battery problem. I bought her a new battery but it wasn’t the right one. She suggested I take the phone wit me to town so that there won’t be any more mistake wit the size,” he paused and shook his head again

I wore my saddest look, nodded urgin’ him on

“After I got the right battery I charged it and tried to test it. Then I got curious and put my sim (the wife had removed her) and that was I discovered all the lurid text between my wife and her boyfriends,” I looked into his eyes and they were red. “I called one of the boyfriend and asked him if he knew the woman he was messing around with was married”

“And what’d he say?” I asked

“He said yes and that I should go and talk to my wife instead of bothering him”

I shook my head slowly from side to side as if am in pain

Even though I genuinely was concerned about this man’s agony, I was thinkin’ about y’all, I was fuckin’ hitchin’ to beat you guys over the head wit this true life betrayal!

Back to Saturday Night

22:28

Birney was stunned; his big eyes blew up five times bigger wit incredulity, Didier Drogba had jus rose in the air and powered in an equilizer!

Nigga couldn’t believe his eyes; I was bangin on the table and crackin’. Birney was eatin’his words, alphabet for alphabet.

“Who’s the liar now,” I roared

Sunday

11:15

Soon as we got done, I couldn’t wait to get away from this woman and her bleached out skin, I mean, i understand the concept of love your neighbor and shit but right at that moment while we were kneelin’ there at the alter prayin’, I wasn’t buyin’ into that concept.

Oh, what were you guys thinkin’? I knew what y’all be thinkin’? Dirty minds! Lmao!

Outro

I don’t care if we we’re in church or club, rubbin’ skin or touchin’ a fool who’s got her skin bleached is somethin’ I can’t and I wont condone. God will understand, am sure. He created us beautiful, why fuck it up?

My boy Birney (he’s south African, by the way) left the pub the without tellin’ me...nigga snuck out in shame, I assumed he went home to lick his wound and his words.

I understand that there are many Men Of Dog frontin’ out there like Men Of God and there’s every tendency for us to want some of these guys to get there prophecies wrong so that we can laugh in their faces and tell our folks like "I knew it. I knew that was fake" but hey, it's not up to us to do times job for it...time will flush out the real from the fake, trust me.

As for the stranger who confided in me, he seemed to have made up his mind bout cuttin’ his loses and was determined to head for the hill wit' what's left of his manliness. Told me he's given up on the marriage when i tried tellin' him to sit the woman down and kick some harsh word in her ears. Said he will be headin’ back to Mozambique where he’s been slavin’ his ass off to take care of the wife, oh I mean, ex wife!

As he headed toward the greyhound bus where his soon to be ex mother in law was waitin’ (the woman had no idea what storm was about to erupt), he thanked me for listenin’.

A SERIES OF UNRELATED INCIDENTS

Sunday Morning

May 20

11:05

Somewhere…

Am not sure I can remember the words of the song playin’ in the background correctly, but they were some’ like

“I give you myself

You can use me”

The piano was mournful but the song was happy and soft. I was hearin’ it for the first time but I was already hummin’ the tune by the second “heard” (if there’s word like that) and that right there is one of the hallmarks of a memorable song.

“Ba ba bay bay, oh god oh god” she said again and again, moaning and shakin’ in a slow dervish motion

I tried to look into her eyes but they were closed as her body vibrated.

“Oh god oh god” she continued as if I wasn’t there, rubbing her body against mine. I wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up! Damn, didn’t she know a nigga was trying to concentrate too? But bein’ the considerate man that I am, I held back cause I didn’t want to ruin her high.

“Oooh, oh God,” she continued, whippin’ her “hair” in my face.

Saturday Night

May 19

22:23

At a Pub Somewhere Else…

83^rd minute and Bayern Munich’s Thomas Muller had jus headed home a potential winner against Chelsea wit 7 minutes left on the clock, Barney shouted with great delight from across the table, trying to get heard over the deafenin’ DJ Khalid’s All I Do Win joint booming out the speakers, “your pastor lied!”

“My pastor?” I was amused

He took a swig of his beer, ‘’Ah ha, I knew your pastor was liar,’’ he gloated. His big eyes seemed to grow even bigger wit mirth as he looked at me wit that I-told-you-so look.

I mean, me and this dude are friends (well, kinda) but we’ve never sat down to talk theology or religion front men. We’ve talked pussy and money but never a religion personality.

And of course, I knew who he was talking about but what the fuck, how’s that nigga my pastor? Okay, we are from the same neck of the wood (Nigeria), so what? I mean, I have never met the man or been to his church.

Oh wait, I’ve been to his church once before but it was for somethin’ totally unrelated to gettin’ my worship on or askin’ for a prophecy or some’. I was there wit’ a friend of mine to see a five-oh.

I told Barney the game’s not ended yet so the prophecy might still come true

Friday

May 18

10:39

From the vantage point on the counter where I was perched, I noticed the man but I didn’t really pay his no mind cause I was too busy wit my phone and I noticed he was busy wit his too…two of them, a Nokia and a Samsung and both were touch screen, top of the range shit. This cat was dark and built like a pro rugby player. He had on a navy blue hoodie over faded blue jeans.

Five minutes after I first noticed him, I heard him cussed, loudly. I looked his way; his eyes were glued to the Samsung and saw that both his hands were shakin’ like a drug addict needin’ a fix. My sensors immediately went on alert, call me nosey but I sensed a story in there somewhere, I asked if everthin’ was honky dory and would you believe it, it was as if a floodgate was flung wide open, nigga opened up to me like a confessor would to a father! It’s strange how people tend to open up to me, I mean, I don’t have that trustin’ angel face or anythin’ like that…must be that I have that je ne se quoi!

“Men, I can’t believe my wife has been cheating on me,” he said through clenched teeth

“Whoa!” I exclaimed

“Yes!” His voice sounded like a croak, like some’ was lodge in his throat.

I guess that’s what it sound like when a grown ass man is broken, huh?

“Am sorry, man,” I consoled.

He shook his head and looked at the Samsung phone in his right hand again.

“How’d you find out?” I prodded, givin’ the man an understandin’ look, well at least, what I thought to be an understandin’ look.

In my head, I was like fuck it, I don’t even have a wife, how could I possibly understand what this nigga was goin’ through but hey, I gotta do what I gotta to do to get this tale outta him.

“My wife’s phone, he raised the Samsung, had battery problem. I bought her a new battery but it wasn’t the right one. She suggested I take the phone wit me to town so that there won’t be any more mistake wit the size,” he paused and shook his head again

I wore my saddest look, nodded urgin’ him on

“After I got the right battery I charged it and tried to test it. Then I got curious and put my sim (the wife had removed her) and that was I discovered all the lurid text between my wife and her boyfriends,” I looked into his eyes and they were red. “I called one of the boyfriend and asked him if he knew the woman he was messing around with was married”

“And what’d he say?” I asked

“He said yes and that I should go and talk to my wife instead of bothering him”

I shook my head slowly from side to side as if am in pain

Even though I genuinely was concerned about this man’s agony, I was thinkin’ about y’all, I was fuckin’ hitchin’ to beat you guys over the head wit this true life betrayal!

Back to Saturday Night

22:28

Birney was stunned; his big eyes blew up five times bigger wit incredulity, Didier Drogba had jus rose in the air and powered in an equilizer!

Nigga couldn’t believe his eyes; I was bangin on the table and crackin’. Birney was eatin’his words, alphabet for alphabet.

“Who’s the liar now,” I roared

Sunday

11:15

Soon as we got done, I couldn’t wait to get away from this woman and her bleached out skin, I mean, i understand the concept of love your neighbor and shit but right at that moment while we were kneelin’ there at the alter prayin’, I wasn’t buyin’ into that concept.

Oh, what were you guys thinkin’? I knew what y’all be thinkin’? Dirty minds! Lmao!

Outro

I don’t care if we we’re in church or club, rubbin’ skin or touchin’ a fool who’s got her skin bleached is somethin’ I can’t and I wont condone. God will understand, am sure. He created us beautiful, why fuck it up?

My boy Birney (he’s south African, by the way) left the pub the without tellin’ me...nigga snuck out in shame, I assumed he went home to lick his wound and his words.

I understand that there are many Men Of Dog frontin’ out there like Men Of God and there’s every tendency for us to want some of these guys to get there prophecies wrong so that we can laugh in their faces and tell our folks like "I knew it. I knew that was fake" but hey, it's not up to us to do times job for it...time will flush out the real from the fake, trust me.

As for the stranger who confided in me, he seemed to have made up his mind bout cuttin’ his loses and was determined to head for the hill wit' what's left of his manliness. Told me he's given up on the marriage when i tried tellin' him to sit the woman down and kick some harsh word in her ears. Said he will be headin’ back to Mozambique where he’s been slavin’ his ass off to take care of the wife, oh I mean, ex wife!

As he headed toward the greyhound bus where his soon to be ex mother in law was waitin’ (the woman had no idea what storm was about to erupt), he thanked me for listenin’.

SUCKICIDE

Sunday

March 8

10:35

Sunday mornin’ I’d had my mind made up to achieve two things; one was to go to church early and that I did cause by the time I stepped in the church, it was half filled. I gave myself a pat on the back for tickin’ that box. I was fuckin’ early for the first time!

Second, I told myself I wasn’t goin’ to be havin’ no dealings wit the spirit of distractions but alas, the moment I sat my ass down in the last seat of the second to the last row, I noticed a tiny tot boucin’ around in his momma’s arms and a familiarly strange (if there’s anythin’ like that) image instantly leapt to mind and the second part of my Sunday resolution went out the door!

The little infant’s eyes were big and round and innocent but they reminded me of someone else, some grown ass punk who chickened out of an agreement we had. My first thought when I saw the kid was to snatch him from the mother’s arm and put a call through to the punk ass and tell him, “Schmuck, I got your lil boy. Pay me what you fuckin’ owe me or you’ll never set eyes on your son again!”

But of course I didn’t do nuthin’ like that, I jus sat there calmly like a good Christian I was and try to get my concentration on but gawd, the lil boy looked so much like Anderson and for a brief moment I wished he was right there so I could plant a ferocious right fist into his face and beat the Judas out of his punk ass.

I know y’all be thinkin’ “why is this guy driftin’ and havin’ violent thoughts in church?”

It’s not my fault, man. I’ve been havin’ thoughts of Bruce Lee’ing that nigga ass ever since he got the nerve up to blow up my phone one fine evenin’ in early March threatenin’ to hit me wit a court case. The ungrateful bastard said I stiffed him out of a deal when in fact he owed me. He was goin’ off on the phone about how he’d consulted wit his lawyer and shit. I mean, I knew this nigga wouldn’t even know what to do wit a lawyer even if he was offered a pro bono service!

10:36

Funny thing was that all those devilish thoughts (as some of you might refer to them) only lasted less than a minute! How’d I know? I checked my phone. Oops, you caught me. Yeah, I know I should’ve turned off the damn thing but hey, putting’ it on silent should count for somethin’, shouldn’t it?

11:05

The pastor performed a baby dedication and got right back into his sermon (he was already preachin’ when I got in the church but he snuck in the baby dedication cause the new mum was delayed).

And what was the title of the sermon was again?

Covenant partnership. Ah ha, oh, y’all thought I wasn’t payin’ attention, didn’t y’all? The pastor talked about how one needed to partner wit the good Lord by payin’ tithe and checkin’ ones first fruit in wit the God and shit. He went on to break it down on how hard it was for him in the beginnin’ to practice all those things he preached…

12:35

Anyways, that was the high point of the sermon for me and before long; I began to slip into idle mode again (what did say about idle minds and the devil’s workshop again?). I kept checkin’ the time and thinkin’ to myself that if the MOG (man of God) doesn’t wrap his production up by thirteen hundred that am gonna have to jet. I got the EPL (English premier league) on my mind. Vain stuff, huh? I know but who doesn’t need an escape? I thought so!

12:42

The little boy that got me thinkin’ about KO’ing Anderson ass earlier started cryin’, I caught his big innocent as the mother positioned him for some of that good ol’ breast suck. I quickly looked away as the young mother whipped out an enormous boob. And nope, I didn’t see the milk factory but then again, I don’t really need to see a boob to be able to gauge how big it is, do I?

12:44

Lil Anderson stopped cryin’ for a bit but a few seconds later, he kicked his cryin’ fest up a notch and that’s the kinda shit that’d chip away even at a monk’s patience.

I tried my best not to look at mother and child and whatever it was they were disagreein’ about but it became increasingly hard not to sneak a look. So I did what any good Christian who cared about his neighbor would do, I looked and what I saw was distressin to me. I mean, who covers their boobs when breastfeedin’ a baby, huh?

This chick had the baby’s head covered whilst tryna shield her breast from bein’ exposed. Lil nigga was sweatin’ like a sailor in the boiler room. I wanted to slap the chick upside the head and tell her to fuckin’ let the baby suck that mutherfuckin’ boob freely (isn’t that one of the lil fella’s fundamental human right, huh?) but instead, I tapped her on the shoulder and said; “don’t you think your son needs to breath. You got his beautiful head covered”.

SUCKICIDE

Sunday

March 8

10:35

Sunday mornin’ I’d had my mind made up to achieve two things; one was to go to church early and that I did cause by the time I stepped in the church, it was half filled. I gave myself a pat on the back for tickin’ that box. I was fuckin’ early for the first time!

Second, I told myself I wasn’t goin’ to be havin’ no dealings wit the spirit of distractions but alas, the moment I sat my ass down in the last seat of the second to the last row, I noticed a tiny tot boucin’ around in his momma’s arms and a familiarly strange (if there’s anythin’ like that) image instantly leapt to mind and the second part of my Sunday resolution went out the door!

The little infant’s eyes were big and round and innocent but they reminded me of someone else, some grown ass punk who chickened out of an agreement we had. My first thought when I saw the kid was to snatch him from the mother’s arm and put a call through to the punk ass and tell him, “Schmuck, I got your lil boy. Pay me what you fuckin’ owe me or you’ll never set eyes on your son again!”

But of course I didn’t do nuthin’ like that, I jus sat there calmly like a good Christian I was and try to get my concentration on but gawd, the lil boy looked so much like Anderson and for a brief moment I wished he was right there so I could plant a ferocious right fist into his face and beat the Judas out of his punk ass.

I know y’all be thinkin’ “why is this guy driftin’ and havin’ violent thoughts in church?”

It’s not my fault, man. I’ve been havin’ thoughts of Bruce Lee’ing that nigga ass ever since he got the nerve up to blow up my phone one fine evenin’ in early March threatenin’ to hit me wit a court case. The ungrateful bastard said I stiffed him out of a deal when in fact he owed me. He was goin’ off on the phone about how he’d consulted wit his lawyer and shit. I mean, I knew this nigga wouldn’t even know what to do wit a lawyer even if he was offered a pro bono service!

10:36

Funny thing was that all those devilish thoughts (as some of you might refer to them) only lasted less than a minute! How’d I know? I checked my phone. Oops, you caught me. Yeah, I know I should’ve turned off the damn thing but hey, putting’ it on silent should count for somethin’, shouldn’t it?

11:05

The pastor performed a baby dedication and got right back into his sermon (he was already preachin’ when I got in the church but he snuck in the baby dedication cause the new mum was delayed).

And what was the title of the sermon was again?

Covenant partnership. Ah ha, oh, y’all thought I wasn’t payin’ attention, didn’t y’all? The pastor talked about how one needed to partner wit the good Lord by payin’ tithe and checkin’ ones first fruit in wit the God and shit. He went on to break it down on how hard it was for him in the beginnin’ to practice all those things he preached…

12:35

Anyways, that was the high point of the sermon for me and before long; I began to slip into idle mode again (what did say about idle minds and the devil’s workshop again?). I kept checkin’ the time and thinkin’ to myself that if the MOG (man of God) doesn’t wrap his production up by thirteen hundred that am gonna have to jet. I got the EPL (English premier league) on my mind. Vain stuff, huh? I know but who doesn’t need an escape? I thought so!

12:42

The little boy that got me thinkin’ about KO’ing Anderson ass earlier started cryin’, I caught his big innocent as the mother positioned him for some of that good ol’ breast suck. I quickly looked away as the young mother whipped out an enormous boob. And nope, I didn’t see the milk factory but then again, I don’t really need to see a boob to be able to gauge how big it is, do I?

12:44

Lil Anderson stopped cryin’ for a bit but a few seconds later, he kicked his cryin’ fest up a notch and that’s the kinda shit that’d chip away even at a monk’s patience.

I tried my best not to look at mother and child and whatever it was they were disagreein’ about but it became increasingly hard not to sneak a look. So I did what any good Christian who cared about his neighbor would do, I looked and what I saw was distressin to me. I mean, who covers their boobs when breastfeedin’ a baby, huh?

This chick had the baby’s head covered whilst tryna shield her breast from bein’ exposed. Lil nigga was sweatin’ like a sailor in the boiler room. I wanted to slap the chick upside the head and tell her to fuckin’ let the baby suck that mutherfuckin’ boob freely (isn’t that one of the lil fella’s fundamental human right, huh?) but instead, I tapped her on the shoulder and said; “don’t you think your son needs to breath. You got his beautiful head covered”.

THE SPECIAL UNINVITED GUEST

Friday
23 March 2012

18:10

I was ready to leave the central business district but then I got a call from some guy who wanted me to hook his ass up wit some cash so I had to temporize. The dude had to be in another part of the country the next mornin’ and he was way short on his transport fare. So in comes the money man (me) to save the fuckin’ day like a mutherfuckin’ superhero! What? Nah, I’ve not been sippin’ on some of that Bill Gate philanthropic brew, it was all on a business tip!

So, I walked to an acquaintance’s shop to get my wait on. The shop keeper shook my hand without takin’ his eyes off some preacher who was doin’ his thing on the television. Curious as to why this nigga was so captivated by the televangelist, I tried watchin’ too but my interest only lasted for about three minute. I fished out a copy of the Gentleman’s Quarterly’s January/February edition (the South Africa’s edition) from my packed backpack and got lost in it.

Some few minutes, the shopkeeper murmured loudly to himself, “ah, some pastors are not interesting. I tried to listen but he’s not jus catching my attention”

I raised my head to look at the TV, at that moment the camera sweepin’ over the faces of some members of the congregation and they looked very much like they were catchin’ every alphabet of every word the pastor was throwin’ at them.

I thought to myself, are these guys really understandin what the man of God was sayin’ or were they jus puttin’ in an act for the cameras?

Put the Blame on God

God, the devil and love are humans’ favorite scapegoats; we blame all kinds of shit on ‘em. Ask a serial killer why he kills, he’ll pro’ly tell you the devil (or God) made him do it.

Some years ago I read about some infamous late 1970s New York serial killer nick named Son of Sam (real name David berkowitz) who claimed he was commanded to kill by a demon who possessed his neighbor’s dog…incredible shit, huh?

And oh, I know y’all know about all these Manchurian candidates a.k.a brain washed kids a.k.a terrorists who’ve come to believe their own bullshit about doin’ God a favor by killin’ the infidels. How the fuck can you believe a mullah sits comfortably away from harm (he and his fam) and churns out sermon after sermon tellin’ you to go into the world and suicide-bomb everythin’ walkin, huh? These cats even sweetens the whole narrative by tellin’ the would-be suicide bomber that seventy two untouched pussies will be waitin’ on each of their asses in the afterlife! Ridiculous shit!

Jus the day other day, I read about some Man of Dog, oops, meant man of God who set some lady on fire. Nigga claimed that God instructed him to do it cause the shawtie was possessed! Unadulterated bull crap, if you ask me. If I was the law, I’d tossed the man of dog’s ass in the big house (prison) where them brutal gay wolves would build a house in that butt!

And where am I goin’ wit all these tales by moonlight?

Sunday
Church service
18 March

12:15

Sittin’ two rows to the exit as usual, I was tryin’ so hard to concentrate (ok, maybe I didn’t try hard enough) but instead of soakin’ the preacher’s words in, I was busy tryna kill an erection that’d come out of nowhere! I swear I wasn’t even thinkin anythin’ sexual but hey, am not even goin to blame it on the devil…am jus gon’ do like Akon and put the blame on myself. But seriously, who does that? Who gets an erection in church, am I the only one?

Some minutes later, I succeeded in getting myself out that “stiff” situation and it was all thanks to two things, one was me gettin myself to concentrate on singin’ as the congregation sang and the other was a certain gentleman sittin’ six seats away on the middle row.

12:56

I didn’t notice when the young man came in the church (must have been while I was tryin’ to lose the growth in my pant) but I knew he wasn’t there before. The guy was hard to miss. He was dressed like an Eskimo, you wouldn’t be wrong to think that he was would headed for Iceland wit the way he was clad in three layers of shirts, a grey lookin’ pant and a pair of Adidas sneakers (that the manufacturer musta forgotten they'd made ) and guess what? The temperature was about 32 degrees!

The next time I looked his way, dude was almost fallin’ over backward in his chair…nigga was dozin’ and from the way his mouth was opened, I coulda swore I heard the nigga snorin’ heavily!

An usher came and shook him awake (and that was after he realized that ordinary taps on the shoulder couldn’t cut it.) The whole drama of dozing and being told to wake the hell up (by the same usher) continued until the pastor called out that folks who wanted special breakthrough should come to the front so that he’d anoint ‘em.

The young man walked to the front wit about ninety percent of the congregation and I might add that the dude didn’t jus get up and walk willingly to the front, the usher practically dragged his ass there!

13:20

And what about me, did I go to the front for some anointment too? Umm, Nah. truth is, I was ready to get  the fuck out the church cause the service gettin' too long for but one thing kept holdin' my ass back and nope, it wasn’t the holy spirit.

So, what kept me there in?

I wanted to see if somethin’ dramatic would happen when the pastor lays hand on the “Eskimo”. But what was so special about that, you asked?  Trust me; if y’all were in my shoes, you’d loved to see if somethin’ miraculous would go down cause the “Eskimo” was a mad man!

OUTRO

So did the miraculous happen? Nope, at least not the way movies have made us believe…but for me, the real miracle was in the mad man comin’ into the church out of his free own will. Umm, did I say free will? Well, may be an external influence told him to, “get your crazy ass to church today, son”.

THE SPECIAL UNINVITED GUEST

Friday
23 March 2012

18:10

I was ready to leave the central business district but then I got a call from some guy who wanted me to hook his ass up wit some cash so I had to temporize. The dude had to be in another part of the country the next mornin’ and he was way short on his transport fare. So in comes the money man (me) to save the fuckin’ day like a mutherfuckin’ superhero! What? Nah, I’ve not been sippin’ on some of that Bill Gate philanthropic brew, it was all on a business tip!

So, I walked to an acquaintance’s shop to get my wait on. The shop keeper shook my hand without takin’ his eyes off some preacher who was doin’ his thing on the television. Curious as to why this nigga was so captivated by the televangelist, I tried watchin’ too but my interest only lasted for about three minute. I fished out a copy of the Gentleman’s Quarterly’s January/February edition (the South Africa’s edition) from my packed backpack and got lost in it.

Some few minutes, the shopkeeper murmured loudly to himself, “ah, some pastors are not interesting. I tried to listen but he’s not jus catching my attention”

I raised my head to look at the TV, at that moment the camera sweepin’ over the faces of some members of the congregation and they looked very much like they were catchin’ every alphabet of every word the pastor was throwin’ at them.

I thought to myself, are these guys really understandin what the man of God was sayin’ or were they jus puttin’ in an act for the cameras?

Put the Blame on God

God, the devil and love are humans’ favorite scapegoats; we blame all kinds of shit on ‘em. Ask a serial killer why he kills, he’ll pro’ly tell you the devil (or God) made him do it.

Some years ago I read about some infamous late 1970s New York serial killer nick named Son of Sam (real name David berkowitz) who claimed he was commanded to kill by a demon who possessed his neighbor’s dog…incredible shit, huh?

And oh, I know y’all know about all these Manchurian candidates a.k.a brain washed kids a.k.a terrorists who’ve come to believe their own bullshit about doin’ God a favor by killin’ the infidels. How the fuck can you believe a mullah sits comfortably away from harm (he and his fam) and churns out sermon after sermon tellin’ you to go into the world and suicide-bomb everythin’ walkin, huh? These cats even sweetens the whole narrative by tellin’ the would-be suicide bomber that seventy two untouched pussies will be waitin’ on each of their asses in the afterlife! Ridiculous shit!

Jus the day other day, I read about some Man of Dog, oops, meant man of God who set some lady on fire. Nigga claimed that God instructed him to do it cause the shawtie was possessed! Unadulterated bull crap, if you ask me. If I was the law, I’d tossed the man of dog’s ass in the big house (prison) where them brutal gay wolves would build a house in that butt!

And where am I goin’ wit all these tales by moonlight?

Sunday
Church service
18 March

12:15

Sittin’ two rows to the exit as usual, I was tryin’ so hard to concentrate (ok, maybe I didn’t try hard enough) but instead of soakin’ the preacher’s words in, I was busy tryna kill an erection that’d come out of nowhere! I swear I wasn’t even thinkin anythin’ sexual but hey, am not even goin to blame it on the devil…am jus gon’ do like Akon and put the blame on myself. But seriously, who does that? Who gets an erection in church, am I the only one?

Some minutes later, I succeeded in getting myself out that “stiff” situation and it was all thanks to two things, one was me gettin myself to concentrate on singin’ as the congregation sang and the other was a certain gentleman sittin’ six seats away on the middle row.

12:56

I didn’t notice when the young man came in the church (must have been while I was tryin’ to lose the growth in my pant) but I knew he wasn’t there before. The guy was hard to miss. He was dressed like an Eskimo, you wouldn’t be wrong to think that he was would headed for Iceland wit the way he was clad in three layers of shirts, a grey lookin’ pant and a pair of Adidas sneakers (that the manufacturer musta forgotten they'd made ) and guess what? The temperature was about 32 degrees!

The next time I looked his way, dude was almost fallin’ over backward in his chair…nigga was dozin’ and from the way his mouth was opened, I coulda swore I heard the nigga snorin’ heavily!

An usher came and shook him awake (and that was after he realized that ordinary taps on the shoulder couldn’t cut it.) The whole drama of dozing and being told to wake the hell up (by the same usher) continued until the pastor called out that folks who wanted special breakthrough should come to the front so that he’d anoint ‘em.

The young man walked to the front wit about ninety percent of the congregation and I might add that the dude didn’t jus get up and walk willingly to the front, the usher practically dragged his ass there!

13:20

And what about me, did I go to the front for some anointment too? Umm, Nah. truth is, I was ready to get  the fuck out the church cause the service gettin' too long for but one thing kept holdin' my ass back and nope, it wasn’t the holy spirit.

So, what kept me there in?

I wanted to see if somethin’ dramatic would happen when the pastor lays hand on the “Eskimo”. But what was so special about that, you asked?  Trust me; if y’all were in my shoes, you’d loved to see if somethin’ miraculous would go down cause the “Eskimo” was a mad man!

OUTRO

So did the miraculous happen? Nope, at least not the way movies have made us believe…but for me, the real miracle was in the mad man comin’ into the church out of his free own will. Umm, did I say free will? Well, may be an external influence told him to, “get your crazy ass to church today, son”.

MEN OF DOG

Sunday, Oct., 30

10:00 hrs

“Pastor Stephen Addy Powell licks woman vagina while praying for her”

My heart stopped as my jaw dropped heavy of the floor!

Ok, ok maybe am being theatrical about my heart stopping and shit but wow, I never thought I’d read the word pastor and cunninglingus in the same sentence, at least not in the sense that it appeared in the headline.

It took me a few seconds to get over my amazement and close my mouth just in time to escape a fat green fly from dashing into my mouth (you know, the type that bum-rush your ass when you’re shittin’ in the fields)!

The story continues

“Pastor Addy came to my house, asked me to pray with him and that he had a revelation about me. While we praying, he undressed me and started licking my virgina”

As far as am concerned, there’s nothing wrong with a pussy-licking man of God. At the end of the day, men of God are humans and they got desires too like the rest of us. And jus like some of us (men and in some cases, women) who go down town not only to dig, but to give pleasure and slake a certain thirst. No problems there, right? But, if you claim to be a man of the cloth and you go around givin’ head to pussies other than your wife’s, we gon have a HUGE problem.

Questions are, 1. Who the fuck is this randy mutherfucker masqueradin’ as a “Pastor”?

2. Do I believe this incredible story?

I’ma answer the second question first and my answer is, YES I believe that shit.

“Why?” you asked.

There are too many fake men of God runnin’ around frontin’ like God called their punk asses. Nine out of ten of these so-called men of God are jobless men who found it easy to play on peoples’ thirst for God. They kick out generalized prophecy and gullible folks lap that shit up like pavlovian dog; I mean what’s the chance of seeing a vision about somebody named Grace or John in a gathering of a thousand people, huh? That’s right; you know that there’s bound to be somebody with names like that in the congregation!

Now back to the first question about who Addy is…up until today, I didn’t know who this punk ass is, matter of fact, I never heard of him or his name before til I came across a link on facebook some hours.

I threw the name into Google and voila, I found a truck load of dirt on this man of dog! Apparently, the incident went down in Ghana back in April but they were in court on Friday, the 28^th of Oct

Anyways, this punk (a pastor with the Crown Power Ministries International) allegedly told the woman in question to lie down for him to remove something spiritual from her stomach, then the he used a white handkerchief to wipe the lady’s face and boom, Shawtie was in a daze! Nigga pushed that g-string to the side (don’t quote me on the panties being g-strings) and got his lickin’ on.

In her dazed state, she struggled but whatever was sprayed in that handkerchief got the lady good. When he got done eatin’ that kitty, he spat in the handkerchief and told the lady that she should be grateful to him for exorcizing her of evil spirit!

What? This nigga got nerve!

The thing is, punks like Addy take advantage of folks hunger for God. I’ve heard of stories where a pastor told his congregation to contribute toward his son going to play golf in America. What the fuck! How does that amount to doin the work of God, huh? How heartless can a mutherfucker be? I mean, some folks in that church were there on empty stomach and nigga want them to contribute so his son could go golfing!

The problem is, we respect pastors more than we do God and that right is the truth. We’re too fuckin’ lazy to crack that bible open and get the goods straight from the source. Instead of gettin’ on our knees and jaw jaw wit God, we’d rather run to the pastor and tell him to holla at God for us.

Now y’all shouldn’t take my lil’ ridiculousity out of context but the truth is the truth, I know without a doubt that we got genuine men of God but I also know we got those who are not men of God at all…they are men of dog

MEN OF DOG

Sunday, Oct., 30

10:00 hrs

“Pastor Stephen Addy Powell licks woman vagina while praying for her”

My heart stopped as my jaw dropped heavy of the floor!

Ok, ok maybe am being theatrical about my heart stopping and shit but wow, I never thought I’d read the word pastor and cunninglingus in the same sentence, at least not in the sense that it appeared in the headline.

It took me a few seconds to get over my amazement and close my mouth just in time to escape a fat green fly from dashing into my mouth (you know, the type that bum-rush your ass when you’re shittin’ in the fields)!

The story continues

“Pastor Addy came to my house, asked me to pray with him and that he had a revelation about me. While we praying, he undressed me and started licking my virgina”

As far as am concerned, there’s nothing wrong with a pussy-licking man of God. At the end of the day, men of God are humans and they got desires too like the rest of us. And jus like some of us (men and in some cases, women) who go down town not only to dig, but to give pleasure and slake a certain thirst. No problems there, right? But, if you claim to be a man of the cloth and you go around givin’ head to pussies other than your wife’s, we gon have a HUGE problem.

Questions are, 1. Who the fuck is this randy mutherfucker masqueradin’ as a “Pastor”?

2. Do I believe this incredible story?

I’ma answer the second question first and my answer is, YES I believe that shit.

“Why?” you asked.

There are too many fake men of God runnin’ around frontin’ like God called their punk asses. Nine out of ten of these so-called men of God are jobless men who found it easy to play on peoples’ thirst for God. They kick out generalized prophecy and gullible folks lap that shit up like pavlovian dog; I mean what’s the chance of seeing a vision about somebody named Grace or John in a gathering of a thousand people, huh? That’s right; you know that there’s bound to be somebody with names like that in the congregation!

Now back to the first question about who Addy is…up until today, I didn’t know who this punk ass is, matter of fact, I never heard of him or his name before til I came across a link on facebook some hours.

I threw the name into Google and voila, I found a truck load of dirt on this man of dog! Apparently, the incident went down in Ghana back in April but they were in court on Friday, the 28^th of Oct

Anyways, this punk (a pastor with the Crown Power Ministries International) allegedly told the woman in question to lie down for him to remove something spiritual from her stomach, then the he used a white handkerchief to wipe the lady’s face and boom, Shawtie was in a daze! Nigga pushed that g-string to the side (don’t quote me on the panties being g-strings) and got his lickin’ on.

In her dazed state, she struggled but whatever was sprayed in that handkerchief got the lady good. When he got done eatin’ that kitty, he spat in the handkerchief and told the lady that she should be grateful to him for exorcizing her of evil spirit!

What? This nigga got nerve!

The thing is, punks like Addy take advantage of folks hunger for God. I’ve heard of stories where a pastor told his congregation to contribute toward his son going to play golf in America. What the fuck! How does that amount to doin the work of God, huh? How heartless can a mutherfucker be? I mean, some folks in that church were there on empty stomach and nigga want them to contribute so his son could go golfing!

The problem is, we respect pastors more than we do God and that right is the truth. We’re too fuckin’ lazy to crack that bible open and get the goods straight from the source. Instead of gettin’ on our knees and jaw jaw wit God, we’d rather run to the pastor and tell him to holla at God for us.

Now y’all shouldn’t take my lil’ ridiculousity out of context but the truth is the truth, I know without a doubt that we got genuine men of God but I also know we got those who are not men of God at all…they are men of dog

LIL' CHUCKY

Sunday, 23 October

11:56

Knowing how late my ass was, I was determined to make every minute I spent in there count. And yup, I know I always go late but if y’all must know, there’s a method to my lateness.

Early This Year

The first time I stepped in the place, I went early thinkin’ we gon be out by twelve, boy was I wrong? At fourteen thirty, it seemed the man holdin court was jus’ getting’ warmed up. Like an electric train between stations, the man can’t be stopped! After waitin’ another thirty minutes, I decided to jet. On my way out; I asked one of the guys at the door, an extremely black, bald headed middle aged man wit a well-groomed goatee

“Is there something special goin’ on today?”

Smiling like all well trained ushers do, he said, “No, this is how we do it every Sunday”

“Hmmm, ok”, I mumbled and quickly reached for my phone, “hey, hi”, hollering unnecessarily into the phone as i walked away.

Did my phone ring? Nah, that was jus’ my emergency exit strategy, somethin’ I’ve used time and time again whenever am caught up a in sticky situation like that one! Ever since that first encounter, I began to time my goin to this church.

12:05

For five minute I stood in the back of the church trying to see if I could spot an empty seat in the back somewhere but no cigar, matter of fact, all the seats in the church were occupied or so it seemed. The MOG (Man Of God) was already doin’ his thing, whippin’ up the church into a spiritual frenzy. I didn’t know that some usher had noticed that my late-coming ass was stranded; he came and offered to help me get a seat. I told him I’d rather he brought me a seat, if he could, so I could sit my ass down under one of the big trees (with them lil kids, all girls except for one boy) by the church and he delivered in less than a minute! Wow, how did you an empty chair, huh? I thought to myself.

Round 12:45

Around twelve forty-five or somethin, the pastor said somethin’ about wrappin his sermon up. In my head I was thinkin’, knock it off MOG, you and I know you ain’t finishin anytime soon.

See, so many times before he’d said that some like and still went on forever, so I didn’t really take that to heart.

I kicked my focus up a notch, tyrin to make up for lost time (or lost sermon) but my Zen-like concentration was broken by that three old boy coolin wit them lil girls when he started wailin’ like an old hag at a funeral parlor. The mother tried in vain to calm the lil menace down but no dice.

I love kids but lil Dennis the menace rode my nerve. With every passin second, lil chucky raised his cryin’ to a higher decibel; it seemed some kinda evil spirit had gotten into him. I was so pissed; I wanted so much to test that lil nigga’s behind wit a couple of strokes of the cane and chase the devil out of him.

The kid ain’t mine and I couldn’t jus go around whooping people’s kids, so I improvised…I gave the boy my evilest eye, I fuckin’ stared the lil punk ass to silence. The kid quickly ran and hid his tear stained face in his mama’s lap! Yeah, call me a villain, call me what you but the end justified the means.

12:58

With lil chucky stared into silence, I returned my attention to the pulpit to enjoy the rest of the sermon and boom, the pastor told us to stand up for the grace! What? How could the service jus end like that? I mean, I’ve come to expect a “sermonthon” from the pastor. It was a pleasant surprise, I must say. And for the first time since I started goin to that church, I stayed till the end…hallelujah, somebody!

On my way out, out of curiosity I asked the lil Chucky’s mum why the lil guy cried so hard. She told me it was because he didn’t want to share his food wit his sister. Unknown to the mum, I gave the boy one last evil eye and watched him shrank further into his mama’s back!