I’ve seen almost all the sequels of the American pie movie, and dare I say, you should be ashamed if you have too. I’m not ashamed! But there was this part where this beautiful piece of song was played during the outro “I’m in love with the world through the eyes of a girl.” But in the present situation, it’s through the eyes of a gold fish. The beautiful Pisces specie that is parturited by the intercourse between a fishing hook and an electric eel; electrolysis it’s called by science students. Don’t ask me how.

Written above is an incoherent multiple threesome of words I don’t understand; maybe my head is speaking a language I can’t comprehend. But you know one other thing I can’t understand? PAIN; Yeah, that phenomenon that could create a hypothetical world of contrarieties. The pleasing sooth of scratching where it itches, that stinging pain of an insect bite, that sweet sensation of injecting heroine into the bloodstream, the cry for help when the nurse actually stick it in, the pleasurable twinge of orgasm, the height of ecstasy in child birth, the soothe of hot shower, the burn of boiling water. A collocation of sensations of seemingly fundamental incompatibility. Pain is part of life; it’s what makes us know we are still breathing.

The way we react to it determines how we perceive the sensation; makes it pleasure or its evil twin.

In life, we could be an actor or the audience, but our disposition to our feelings ultimately premises what side we are on. Pains won’t always go away, they are part of the very essence of existence and we are to find out the purpose of pain, the power of pain and the triumph we can have over pain through faith. Have you heart of CIP, it’s a condition of congenital insensitivity to pain. The sufferer feels no pain whatsoever. Sounds good? He won’t know when fire is burning him, when he has twisted an ankle; he won’t even know when a blade has slashed his wrist. The person ultimately would be praying to feel pain. It’s unenviable, but whatever you are going through, triumph not in spite of it, but triumph right through it.

Ludwig van Beethoven (and I will be ashamed of you if you don’t know that name) is one of the greatest classical music composers, but the most inspiring thing about him is his deafness; How can a musician, a composer, lack what we would imagine to be his most important sense? Ironic. He lived and died in glory. He could have whined and shrieked like a three inch weenie at the sight of a seasoned prostitute. We are the glory of creation, but we can become the shame of creation if we reject the glory of the creator.

Not making sense?

The electric eel felt the pain of electrolysis when it turned to gold fish, and is now better for it. So I was even right in the first paragraph and I had no idea that I was. My team just drew to a bunch of thugs and its getting to me! It’s painful, but I’m coming up tops.



It’s hot in here but I’m here because it’s where I want to be. Not that I especially love the heat, but it makes me feel sweaty and that makes me feel the heightening race of extra temperature running via blood in my veins. It’s my December and my time of the year and life doesn’t seem like a vacation anymore, it’s now more like a vocation. The sun is smiling so hard like it just got laid (as in, lay out or something) and the clouds are so green with envy, the laundrymen are really loving it. Sounds like time to account for what has been in my hand (I’m not deluded; I have a calendar in my front). But before I do that, I want to look at what I’m to account for.


As it so happens, philosophy has been passed down through the ages and many things are predefined by culture; we believe that we should live our lives to be able to account for everything that happens. God has put so much in our hands and has given us the power to rule over. He has given us gifts to spend and use, time, love, beer and air. But the ultimate thing that has been given to us that accounts for how we use other gifts is the power of choice. You are free to disagree; just take a cup of toilet water.


For everything that happens to a man, a choice was made somewhere by someone, consciously or otherwise. Nothing is as inconsequential as it seems. You can try to think through everything, and you will see, as I always say, it all depends on the big ‘If’. So, if there is a big ‘If’ somewhere, then there is a choice to be made to choose the alternate situation. You could have chosen to drop out of school early; you could have chosen to read for that exam. You could have chosen to drink malt the night you drove drunk (adjust your wheelchair!). Whatever happens to a mortal, whatever comes our way, we always have a choice. The most powerful gift given to humankind is the power of choice, but it is often abused, and mostly (sadly) unrecognised.


You can put lipstick on a pig, but in the end, its still very much the same fat, ugly unappealing bottom feeding farmyard animal that lives its life wallowing in-and-eating-its own sh*t. Or you can simply choose not to.


We often say we have no choice, but life doesn’t always give you 1, it gives you a 0 to compliment the binary. Our choices make us who we are and we can chose to do the right thing, regardless of the situation. Averagely, a human makes over 2 million choices in a day (I don’t know where those statistics are from, but they sound true to me); when we wake in the morning, we can remain in bed for the next 30 seconds, or get up right there, it’s a matter of choice, then late at night, you chose whether to sleep with your face to the right or to the left (tough choice though), but imagine the billion choices you have made in between the hours. As they say, we make them choices, and they turn to make us.


What makes the rich powerful men of today who they are? The choices they make. Buying the right stock at the right time, choosing to work when they could be chroming a blonde (discard that). For some people, the most important choice to make is who to be with, but what will happen to them 30 years down the line depends on the choice they make when it is prompted. Some people say they are through with love, it’s a choice they have open to them. We choose who to stare at, what to stare at in them and, dare I say, that could form some images in our heads, then we have a choice to continue or back out.


I could choose to love her or I could choose to love them. I could choose to cry or choose to whine. What we are today is a result of choices we made some years or months back in the grand timeline. I choose to be here, to love life but treat it as a fraction of eternity, to live to the fullest and be a blessing to the blessed, to eat and drink and be joyful even if general knowledge expects me to be sad. I choose to write (even if its crap). I chose to sign up for the face***, I chose to ask for your friendship and you decided to accept (biggest decision of your life aye?).You can choose to hate me; we all know its just sour grapes. What am I saying? You are what you choose to be sad or glad, rich or broke, drunk or stupid, loved or fucked up.


I choose to love you even if aren’t here right now. (not you!)


Everything starts with one tiny choice, a bit of a decision. And whatever is facing you, remember, you have a choice.

Beauty and The Seat

One of the characteristics of truth is ugliness. The truth is proverbially ugly, that is why people lie ad live lies; just imagine if the truth was Taiye Taiwo, wouldn’t you prefer Beckham even if he was a lie? Reminds me of one sunny Monday afternoon that I walked into a crèche with a friend of mine; my friend being neither attractive nor sexy, not very ugly all the same, but not just beautiful. I played with the most kids that day and my friend got the unwanted few. Morale of the story; beauty is king.


Beauty is proverbially in the eyes of the beholder (or beer holder as the case may be), but even the blind can attest to Sade Adu’s beauty. There was a time in this our world that genius and brilliance ruled, that era is gone like the time of the dinosaurs. Now, sex sells; everything is being created to arouse the sensual senses; even Glo use girls with good cleavages to advertise; or why do you think Eva changed their bottle or Coca Cola  had to make their bottle to look like a 22 year old Brazilian stripper?. About 57% of corporate managers said (according to research, not cone by me) that getting a job is harder for an unattractive candidate. Crazy! Isn’t it? But it’s the sad reality of the world we live in. welcome to the new world baby!


Good looks used to be a gift from above (that a few like me posses, no disrespect to you though), but with the turn of the century and the advent of credit card and bank loans, it is now a ceaseless pursuit; its now a horse even beggars wanna ride. People visitBrazilmore these days, not because of the samba or beautiful beach scenery, but because of their rather cheap rate of plastic surgery procedures. But who can blame them; life is getting increasingly tougher got the less attractive folks. Since we all now put food on the table of cosmetologists.


To get a job these days is neither rice nor garri, and definitely not beans. But ultimately, visual appeal plays the playmaking role in the employment process. In an interview, interviewees are seated in a row outside the office in a lobby. There is a guy; first class, brilliant nerd with his tie hanging with deflated ego. He is do good he can disprove gravity, but his sense of style leaves much to be desired. Then three seats from him is this hunk, fairly tall dude with five o’clock shadow, with his suit hugging his body like he was wet, had a second class ‘lowest’. Honestly, the latter stands a better chance of landing the job. Its simple, the employer naturally equates good looks with brilliance and self confidence. Once you have confidence, you’ve got the dragon by the jugular. Seriously, it is better to be average and good looking than to be brilliant and unattractive if you wanna get the job.


If you think this is harsh and awol, think about it; wouldn’t you buy from a sweet looking lady than the pale imitation at the next store. Or why do you think lady cashiers have longer queues in front of them in banks.


By default, biologically, humans are attracted to symmetrical faces and curvy women for a reason: those shapes are believed to provide the healthiest of offspring. Myth as it may be, it’s definitely gonna affect lots of things. By the way, this is not to depress the ugly, so read on.

Useless fact: Czechs shagg as often as the French, they start as early as the Dutch and fear venereal disease as little as the Italians. Czech is the place to be!! Discard that.


I told you about my friend, it’s a true tale. Babies stare longer at good looking parents and conversely we stare longer at good looking babies too. That tells you much about how important looking good is.

Given a Ford Mustang and a Passat, you would pick the Passat cos of its curves. Mind you, Mustang boasts a better engine.


Seems like rambling but, hey, it’s for a purpose. Good looks isn’t only about dimples, curves and nose length, it has a lot to do with hygiene, carriage and character. Asa is actually not fine (at all), but we all love her. Don’t we? People give little attention or care to how they look, and its hurting them beneath the skin. But once you have carriage and style, you have won the war. If you are brilliant, add a little style to it; if you are dull, make that style a double. Always appear your best. But don’t overkill it, it could cause the Bimbo-effect (and if you don’t know the definition of bimbo, sink your nose in the dictionary and good luck with that). People will naturally assume you are too beautiful to have brains. A woman got fired for that in 2007.


As you work on your resume, work on yourself too (honestly, your looks will most likely get you the job than the resume if you are a rookie). Look healthy and confident. And if they are sagging or suffering from low self esteem, get some wonder b** (ladies, don’t hang me yet!)


And if you need to do plastic surgery, bill is on me. Just tell me how you’re gonna repay.


Crazy though, but the rant is over.


I haven’t lived a hundred years and my hairs still have their colours intact. But what I’ve seen could make a beautiful love story and rival ‘Scary movie II’ all in one package. I have seen peace and pain all in one place. I have witnessed birth and I’ve seen people die. I’ve seen wealth and penury that will make a celestial church rat giggle. I wont dare say I have seen it all, cos that’s just plain impossible. I’ve experienced a lot of occurrences but nothing is as phenomenal as family; its like a flower, the petals look not too great apart, but alluring together. We all love family values and mostly we love our mothers and cherish and show it all on facebook on mothers’ day; but is it the same on fathers’ day? A mother’s love is imperative, but a father’s role is simple nonpareil.


I watched the elation on a young mans face when he saw his son take his first steps in life, the delight on his face, the protection he gives to the baby making sure he doesn’t fall. Its funny how automatically, some of these are thrown out of the window as soon as the mum is involved. I have seen a father sell his car to pay his son’s tuition, but will the song remember that? It’s a case of lion and hunters, history will continue to give the credits to the hunters until lions rise to write their own history.


Underrated and underappreciated by the society that believes that whatever a man does in the family is bleached in comparison to what a woman does regardless of the magnitude. Fatherhood isn’t all about inflating a ladies tummy, its more than that; anyone with nuts in between his legs can do that. The underestimation is so glaring that only Luther Vandross (RIP) and a very few others had the effrontery and were appreciative enough (and gay enough in Luther’s case) to have sang about their fathers. Songs dedicated to fathers are like Mercedes Benz wagon 1974 model on a Lagos road, while those dedicated to mothers are like danfo; everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I love mothers (and ladies too) and I think they are inevitable doing the best, but then, I feel the fathers role is underrated.


As I said earlier, I have seen some crazy and shocking things and I can conclude that when a father-figure is missing in a child’s life, you can only patch it, like a car heavily hit from behind; the panel beater cannot make it new again. A fathers role might seem insignificant but it is as vital to a family, as the ignition is to a car. When you see a dysfunctional son, check his father, there is a high percentage that he’ll be dysfunctional too. Now, that is a failure being shown, but are the successful ones being celebrated?


I love the Boss Dada cos no one else could have done it like him. It goes beyond school fees and strict face. It’s when men don’t do their obligation that the heavy load now falls on the shoulder of the weaker one. As much as the bad ones are being pointed out, the good ones should be pointed out too. Look at Ib*; the archbishop if min*a, what do you expect his father to be like? Or the civilian dictator from Owu, some would argue that their fathers would have been better as faggots; that’s harsh, but rightfully so. Besides, Snoop Dogs fatherhood won’t tell you much about decent parenting.


Fathers should do more than put food on the table; they should be role models to the kids. And potential fathers should not repeat the mistake made by the parents. We don’t have to hit the same spot. Imagine what your life woulda been like if you didn’t have a dad, or how it would have been if you did. As much as we love and cherish our Momas, our Dadas deserve our love and appreciation too. I’m sorry to point this out but truth be told, often times, the mothers make the father the bad guy (Daddy will beat you!), and that makes the man more of a monster than a lover; often because of self gratification or personal vendetta against the man. Let us men do it right and celebrate fathers. Fathers are underrated and wrongfully so.


Rant over.

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