Good evening.

Before I progress, I would like to inform everybody with diesel or roasted plantain in their hands that this post has nothing to do with the title. I have no idea what the word ‘masturbation’ means, and I have never been so eager as to find out. The title was just a ploy to get you all to come and read this post.

Moving on…

It’s been over 2 weeks since I rambled, and I decided to just come here and talk something sha…

Just 61 words… This is gonna be hard… *sigh*

Don’t blame me if this post seems or appears sane. I have not tasted Barcelos’s Bread for almost a week now, and my insanity levels are extremely low. I’m in Ilorin, and the town is extremely fucked. They have nothing that can compete with Barcelos’s bread which in a nutshell, makes the town more useless than Obasanjo in a 4x100meter relay race.

Why am I even in Ilorin?

Yes! My convocation!!!! On Tuesday, 25th of October 2011, yours truly will be handed a certificate stating he is “worthy in learning and character”, and shall thus be a graduate of B.Sc (Hons.) Of Human Anatomy from the ever salty University of Ilorin.

Worthy in character… I wonder if they ever read my blog…

Did I mention I’m graduating with a First Class?

19 years old and I have a First-Class degree… *in Lupe Fiasco’s voice* Baba God noni!

A while back, due to my prowess on the football pitch, my friends used to call me ‘Nilmar’ (after the Brazilian foward), which they later shortened to ‘Nil’. When I saw the graduating list, I was so happy. It was clearly printed: First Class in Human Anatomy: Nil.

I wonder how many of us bear that name though… ‘Cause virtually every department had people named Nil graduating with First Class degrees…

*sigh* University of Ilorin… I sure as hell will miss you.

286 words… I must reach 900…

I’ll miss the school, but I really doubt if I’ll miss the people. People being the lecturers and the girls.

I’m not gonna bother talking about Unilorin lecturers… They have their special seats in Hell right beside Adolf Hitler and the people that sub-title Nollywood movies. Their crimes against humanity are too heinous to be described here.

Moving on…

The girls in Ilorin are another thing entirely. Not just Unilorin girls. Not just Kwasu girls and Kwarapoly girls and College of Education girls, but virtually every girl in Ilorin.

Ilorin girls are ugly.

Don’t get me wrong, I know a lot of beautiful girls in Ilorin. The Obi sisters, @lahyoh24, @myarAssaphire, @jadettie, @Oliviakay52, @reehanat, @phyrdausi and a host of others. So I’ll restate my point.

Out of every 100 randomly selected girls between the ages of 17 and 24 in Ilorin, at least 98 are ugly. This is a UN statistic.

Ilorin is the kind of place where, when you wake up in the morning, you pray to God not to allow the first person you see on the road be a girl, because the chances of her being ugly is about 97%, and the chances of you having a fucked up day, because you saw an ugly girl, is about 93%.

440 words…. *licks Choco Milo*

It’s not as if these girls aren’t fine naturally. I’ve met a couple in Lagos and they looked very good. There’s just something about Ilorin that just makes them ugly. Which brings us to Ilorin’s sun.

It’s as if God wanted to show humanity a minute proportion of what Hell felt like, so He invented Ilorin’s sun. Ilorin is the kind of town where you don’t need an handkerchief. The instant sweat comes out from your body, it evaporates that same instant. The kind of town where when you finish washing, you know how long it takes your clothes to dry. Linen: 17 seconds. Cotton: 23 seconds. Wool: 44 seconds.

This sun, is the primary reason why I guess Ilorin taxi drivers are so foolish. Ilorin taxi drivers have the IQ of a 4-day old weevil. The traffic light has already turned green and has begun to countdown the time before it turns red, but the foolish drivers, instead of them to move, will stand there admiring the green light like it was a sight more beautiful than Cossy Orjiakor boobs (I have a thing for truck-sized boobs).

683 words… I can’t reach 900 😥

Okay.. I don’t have anything to say again… Lemme wrap this post up…


The mobile networks…

As many of y’all my voltrons have noticed, I have been off Twitter for a while… The networks in Ilorin are horrible. Globacom especially… *sigh*

Globacom in Ilorin is useless. Even more useless than the recently deceased Odinabarbie (may Sanponna bless her vagina) in an abbot. Sending a message via the Nigerian Postal Service is actually faster than sending a Ping while on Glo’s BIS. It is that horrible.

It is also the reason why I haven’t commented or retweeted on the blog links y’all have been sending to me… I apologize and will do so when I get back to Lagos.

Yep… That’s all I have to say for now… At least now you know I’m alive and that I have not been kidnapped by a Namibian slave-ring for being such an exceptional blogger *stands up to allow maximum space for cranial expansion*

Sha sha sha… The Convocation Ceremony is on the 25th… All of you are invited… My canopy shall be located under the dam (Yes, Unilorin has a dam… Which is why we’re, scratch that, they’re the best university in Nigeria.) Every and all sort of food-type shall be available, from amala and frog stew to bread and Lebanese butter.

I actually wrote majority of this post while walking on the road, and now my legs ache, thus meaning I must get a cab, and fast.

See y’all when I see y’all.

A little blue bird tells me yesterday was Terdoh’s birthday… Happy birthday Uncle. Words cannot truly express the magnitude of good wishes I have for you and your extremely round pot-belly. More butter to your bread, egbon.