Monday, December 28, 2009


In an ideal world,
I'd meet her somewhere, somehow, some place
Someone might introduce us
I might notice first and make the move or vice versa
in this here world it would not matter

I'd ask her out
maybe she'll form a bit, maybe not,
maybe we'd hit it off right away
maybe it'll take some time
but we'd finally be together

We would date for a while
and I'll pop out a ring at a dinner date
and on my knees, I'd ask her to marry me
While the joint's band played 'Will you marry me'on cue

She would gleefully scream "YES"
and kiss me like life depended on it

We would marry in a quiet serene place
dressed in white before a hundred gaze
We'd honeymoon somewhere within our means
and the place would be exotic cos we are in

Honey moon
-hunt for the treasure
we'd fumble our way to knowledge and pleasure

We would have two delightful kids
A pretty princess first
and a dark dude to have her back

we would have our lil fights
but they'll never grow
We wouldn't talk about rights
And only selflessness would we sow
Always putting "US" first with our mights

She would say something crazy like
'My husband is always right'
And I'll do something utterly mad like
Doing my utmost to measure to this height
Though the human pecadillo in me strikes
or vice versa

She would say something stupid like
'I will love you forever'
And I'll say something idiotic like
'God knows I dont deserve you ever'

We would kiss and make up
make up sex will not be strange to us

I would work my behind off
to get comfort for her and The Littles
She'd take care of us all
never a button loose, never a tummy unfilled
A tidy nest to grow for us all

In an ideal world
we'd do our 75 years anniversary
amidst great, grand and children children
We would watch them all grow with smiles
re-telling how our life has been together

In an ideal world
it wouldnt matter who went before the other
The one would follow the other anyways-
grateful to God to have found
A near-perfect spouse in each other

All in an ideal world.
All in an ideal world



If you can, look beyond the commerce reason for the season. I wish most sincerely that your hearts be merry. Mine is...

Monday, December 21, 2009


They say its 'urbanisation'
-The streets are wider now
But no spaces for the donkeys
The playgrounds are disappearing
And the trees give way to concrete...


Saturday, December 12, 2009


(...from the archives, from waaay back)

So you have a boss, so do I (sadly)
Maybe yours is cool and good. Mine is cool...we were saying?
Tunji my ogre, sorry ogre, sorry I meant OGA is a cool guy if you arent working with him/ for him.
From afar ...He's da bomb
Nearby...He'll blow in your face (literarily)
So you wish you could kill yours?
Well today, he's giving me the "Brass Balls Thump" (highest grade of raking) and all of a sudden, out of the clouds, I picked a lance and showed the lancelot part of me. Yep! I did him in.
I was going to start singing some cannibal/freedom song or the other when someone prodded me 'Bros, you've got ink all over your hand...everything okay?"

Not yet was a drawing of him I had drawn sometime ago...okay a stick figure of him.
I looked down at the picture, it grinned back at me, through the blob of red ink, with its horns and trident-holding three fingered hand... want to kill your boss at about now?
I did mine in , once, on paper.
No its not okay..I just killed. AND I like it.

Saturday, December 5, 2009


I met her at a business dinner. She had accompanied one of the other guys to the chinese restaurant meeting. I thought 'Hmmm...impressive'; bringing your girlfriend to a business dinner.
Typically, I'm being civil to her and soon noticed that I seem to be giving her more attention than her man.
'Typical...', I thought with some measure of arrogance, 'some fellas just have bad manners'.

I got to gist wih her some more when the boys went off to watch an english team pound another; she was an interesting conversationalist. Rather engaging I must say.
Sometime that night, I ask how long they'd been together since I only just met George; she laughed rather curiously and asked ' mean...?', and another short laugh.

"You honestly didn't know? Then why have you been given me so much attention all night? I thought..."

I looked bewildered.
She paused for a while and looked at me incredulously.

She reached for a pen and some serviette, scribbled for some time-almost with a child-like air and handed me the paper with some slight measure of embarrassment-not before asking to promise not to say anything to George about our gist...(!?)
I couldn't believe my eyes...

Fadeke is a whore.
Or her favorite..."Hustler"!

Go figure; what are the odds?