How are you today, mortals?
Yes, I’ve come here again. I had to come here again. I didn’t have a choice. She said she was gonna put the Moin-Moin in the freezer. Imagine! She was gonna make the Moin-Moin cold! I had no choice! 😦
Cold Moin-Moin is just wrong. It’s evil. So I have to come here and write something. I like ranting though (I prefer it to actual writing… To dey organize points na wahala), so I’m not really miffed about it. Lest I forget, Ice!
Ice Prince: It was Bassey that had sex. Barcelona.
So without much ado, and because I ate just N80 bread and noodles for Sahur today (normally I eat N120 bread), I’ll get to why I’m here today.
First off, today is Esse Ifunanya George’s (nee whatever surname she’s bearing now. A Nigga really couldn’t be bothered) birthday. This post is, in a way, is a birthday gift to the beautiful, akpu-loving, ororo-secreting Igbo girl I met on Twitter (and subsequently developed a huge crush on) in the summer of 2011. We attended the same school, but unlucky for her, she changed schools to her current school in Ogbomosho, Canada, before we could meet.
As usual, as does every girl who gets to actually know the sexy, extra-ordinarily awesome, elegant, charismatic demi-god that is myself, Esse fell in love with me. But then I discovered she was older than me, and the love had to eat indocide and die.
Side-note: It’s not that dating older girls is bad, I just, at the moment, am not interested in anything from the cat family. Pussies, Cougars, none of them.
Me and Esse have been good friends ever since, and I’m using this to once again wish a very awesome friend a very happy birthday. I hope you find someone that’s willing to ignore your akpu-ridden legs and give you birthday sex. Love you, baby.
DDISCLAIMER: The above was not written by Wana. The great, extremely-gangsta-ish demi-god would never show his true feelings for any akpu-containing mortal. Thank you.
On to the next one.
By the way, this was supposed to be a post. But somehow it became a rant. So therefore it is now a pant. 😀
My office arranged a Health Seminar/Workshop today, and the Commissioner for Health in Ogun State, Dr. Soyinka, was present. Yes, the Commissioner is the legendary Nobel Prize winner, Wole Soyinka’s son. And it’s from this man that I shall take the next two subjects of Le Pant.
First of all, he proved the old rule that beans can only make Moin-Moin, never Dodo. Someone was making a request from the Government and went like: “We need more cars and people that will be drivering them”
I was shocked. From a Medical Doctor, that was unexpected. But nothing prepared me for the look on Dr. Soyinka’s face. They say a picture can speak a thousand words, but the look on Dr. Soyinka’s spoke just 4 words.
What. The. Bloody. Fuck.
If he hadn’t noticed it, I’d have doubted that he was truly Uncle Wole’s son. But he proved to me that the English of his father flowed through his blood.
This is why life is so unfair… I already feel bad for Vic.O’s son. 😦
I wonder if my Moin-Moin will flow through my son’s blood… Hmmm…
The other thing I noticed about Dr. Soyinka, which is the reason behind today’s title, is his class. I have never wanted so much to be like an individual in my life. This nigga was fresh! Not fresh like all those pussy-hunting boys at E-Centre, but fresh in a more elegant way. He spoke with style and commanded an air of total respect. He had swag, plus that extra maturity that made him classy.
Not to hate on all those snap-back wearing, skinny and carrot-jean wearing babies, but that’s all they are. Babies. The moment you dump all that color-blocking, attention-seeking-on-social-networks-shit, and improve the other parts of your personality, then at that moment, does swag turn to class.
Happy birthday, Ifunanya, and see y’all bitches when I see y’all.
After yesterday’s post, Wana’s Playbook has now passed 20,000 views. Thank you so much, bitches.