I masturbate a lot. May this information be useful to you.

Hello, immortals.

I’ve been outta town for a while, and I came back to see y’all shouting Seasons Greetings. Never knew Harmattan warranted cards and hampers and shii. Good for y’all.

Unto business sha, This post aims to tell you how my Christmas Ruff Ryder’s First Lady went.

I decided I was gonna tell y’all about some parts of my day, not because I don’t have anything better to do, but because I know y’all must be curious to know how the great Wana spent his Christmas Adam’s Spouse.

So in my great wisdom, I shall tell you how my day went, 3 lessons you could learn from them.

I had planned to buy a Polo shirt at the Ralph Lauren shop in Ikeja City Mall (I have, or used to have, a rule of wearing only original clothing material), so that’s where my day began. Sadly when I got there, the shop wasn’t open yet. And while I was waiting for the shop to open, I thought,

“Do I really want to spend N5,000 on one shirt when I can buy 2 shirts and 2 chinos trousers for less than that?”

Even if the horse don turn to lizard, Ralph Lauren na Ralph Lauren

Now, before all my potential girlfriends will run away, I’m not a cheapskate. If the shop had been open, I’da bought the shirt and all this senrere would not be senrere-ing.

But it’s the end of year. Times are hard yo. And hard times call for desperate measures. I mean, see Kobe shooting the ball 41 times in a game… Everybody’s on the hustle.

Ope oh! One don finally enter!

So, I decided to be economical, and go to Balogun market on the Island. I ended up buying 2 nice polos, 2 chinos, and 1 sexy shoe for N7000. Someone give Orunmila a big hand!

On my shopping spree though, I learnt a couple of things, which I shall now share with you.

1. I’m a real G: If anyone was in doubt of this fact before, don’t be. I mean, I proved that I was an awesome nigga today.

First of all, I didn’t get lost. And it was my first time alone in the big Balogun market. That place is big mehn. Even Rihanna’s forehead ain’t gat shii on it. And I didn’t get lost still. *Kanye shrug*

Also, I also demonstrated my heart of gold, which every real G has. Some dude walked up to me and said, “Sir, please assist me.” Normally the first thing I’d have said is, “I resemble Rondo? Abi I resemble Xavi?” But I brought out my wallet and gave him N200.

As you can see now, I’m a real G. Y’all that thought Daniel Craig in Skyfall was something, wait till you see my Moonfall.

2. Laughter is under-rated: After buying all the things I bought, and constantly exchanging sweat and hair and perfume with the throngs of people passing by me, I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get home. I hailed a taxi and told him I was going to GRA Ikeja, and the nigga said, “OK, N6,000.”

Within a second, I was laughing like I was watching Ted. All my fatigue and the stress in my body was gone. With the other cab men looking at me, I picked up my bags with renewed vigor and made my way to where the danfos where parked.

The laughter gave me energy I never knew I had, and it sustained me all the way home.

Thinking about it, it’s still funny though. Assuming I told him I was going to Jupiter or Saturn, the N6,000 woulda been understandable. And the guy said it with such conviction and an Ijebu accent. “Okay, Sis tawzan”

Is this where I said I was going? Abi ki lo fa oshi?

Eleriibu ashiere.

3. Guys, if you have a pretty girlfriend, hold on to her: To those guys who think there a lot of fine girls out there, sorry to burst your bubble bro. They are few.

Every time I walked behind a girl with big yansh at the market, I would quicken my pace so as to get a glimpse of her face. And of the 107 girls whose yanshes had led me to quicken my footsteps, 107 were ugly.

Time after time, I hastened my legs only to face sadness. I saw girls with faces looking like they had rough sex with Godzilla, to girls with more pimples on their faces than the number of time I masturbate (did your new knowledge come in handy?), to girls whose stomachs protruded like they were pregnant with seventy-twoplets.

Let me borrow a Rick Ross analogy here.

All I’m saying is, if you have a bitch who looks like a bag of money. Hold on to her and never let her go.

And if you have a bitch who looks like a bag of spoilt semovita, I feel bad for you son.

Uhm… So that’s that about that.

This is going to be the last post of the year, except that donkey Niro has something to write.

2012 was a good year y’all. Have a better 2013.

Seasoning Greetings people. Have a Maggi New Year.

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