Raaaaaaa!!!!!!!! Uncle Wana in tha fuckin’ building!

How are all my favorite fans? Uncle Wana missed y’all. And I know you all missed me too. Because nobody kills a post like Uncle Wana. That’s why they call me Uncle Wana a.k.a Mr. Put-The-Post-In-A-Body-Bag. A.k.a Mr. Can-Write-100-Posts-With-One-Moin-Moin. A.k.a Mr. Struggling-His-Best-To-Join-TBH-Twitter.

Enough with the self-wash though. Ariel be expensive these days. Down to business like Stewart Downing.

Bush people…. Na the oyinbo version be this

Someone who owned a lifestyle magazine asked me to takeover the Beauty/Fashion segment. Yes, because Uncle Wana knows everything there is to know about everything.  I mean, Uncle Wana knows why M comes before N in the alphabet. And why you don’t orgasm through your sweat pores. Uncle Wana knows everything.

But for reasons best known to Orunmila & the 40 Thieves (did y’all ever watch this cartoon? Awesome shii!), them no answer Uncle Wana. So Uncle Wana has brought his madness back to you people. The post should never have been here, hence the title.

The post is about metrosexuality, and if you don’t like it, kindly write a complaint and Niro shall see to it that you receive your wasted megabytes back.

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“Wana, you should try colour-blocking sometime.”

“Have you read the latest edition of GQ, baby? There are some nice styles there.”

“Wana, you should consider getting red shoes. You never know when you might need them.”

This girl will not kill me.

Hasn’t she heard Faraday’s Laws of Men’s looks? For the benefits of those who also haven’t, I’ll state them below.

1. A man is never ugly.

2. All men are handsome, but some men are more handsome than others.

Law number 2 is basically a repetition of Law 1, but adds the fact that some of us, e.g me, are more handsome than the others, e.g you/your boyfriend.

Apparently, my dear doesn’t believe this, and is also doing her best to bring out the color-blocker in me. The shopping addict in me. The metrosexual in me.

Before I go on to tell you what a metrosexual is, bow your heads with me in prayer, fellow brothers.

May no evil weapon FASHIONed against us prosper. Amen.

Many of you probably think I have a deep hate for fashion, at this point. No. On the contrary, I love to look good. I always look good. I was born to look good. I look so good, I put the ‘good’ in ‘goodie-goodie’.

Let me now give you Wikipedia’s definition of metrosexuality.

“A man who is especially meticulous about his grooming and appearance, typically spending a significant amount of time and money on shopping as part of this.”

Ki lo fa oshi?

Real G’s ain’t ball like this… Younaamean?

I’m a guy. A man. A red-blooded one. Yes I love to look good, but being “especially meticulous” about my appearance? Tufia.

Do not mistake this for me being rugged or dirty. I love looking my television: Sharp. But then again, sharp has degrees. Permit me to quote the most important article ever ever written by man, The Bro Code.

Article 47 states: No man shall spend more than 2 minutes in front of a mirror. If more time is required, a three-minute waiting period must be allowed before returning to the mirror.

I shouldn’t even say anything after that. It has said it all.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong in being a metrosexual. There’s nothing wrong in lining your dressing table (should you even have one?) with numerous creams and lotions. There’s nothing wrong in standing in front of the mirror combing your hair for 20 minutes. There is absolutely nothing wrong in spending 2 hours picking an outfit for the next day.

There are a number of metrosexuals out there, men who are regarded as fashion icons: the likes of David Beckham, Brad Pitt, and Darey Art-Alade. But do you notice something about these people? They have money.

To be a metrosexual, you have to be paid. Shirt no go waka from T.M. Lewin shop enter your wardrobe. Neither will that Michael Kors watch apparate to your wrists. Being a metrosexual is not for those whose wallets have abs. Your wallet gotta have that Obasanjo-type pot belly, you know what I mean?

Accio Micheal Kors!

Aside from money, the metrosexual lifestyle also requires time. If you’re a 9-5er, your weekends are all you get to sustain this lifestyle. And so you’re faced with a great dilemma: Football or Fashion. It’s not even a dilemma sef because you have to choose fashion.

You know those your friends that cannot enter Ikeja City Mall without buying a new shirt or jeans? They metrosexual.

That your roommate that has like 15 pairs of shoes, 6 pair of shades and 10 pairs of watches? He’s metrosexual.

Those men you hate meeting at the salon because they always spend at least 2 hours on their hair? They metrosexual.

If you read through well, you’ll see that the characteristics of a metrosexual male is almost the same as that of an homosexual. The only difference between both is the sexual tastes. Other than that, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between an homosexual and a metrosexual male. One like cat, the other likes doggie. *adjusts halo*

Now you know what a metrosexual is, and why most Nigerian men like myself, might not be so keen on adopting such a lifestyle. If you feel you have what it takes to be one, then ride on!

I’m still looking for a good way to convince my girlfriend that life is not for me though.

Happy metrosexing!

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Yup, that the shii I wrote for them. Looking back at it, there are some very ridiculous errors in it. I mean, how can I have a girlfriend? How can Count Wana, Lord of the Immortals & Patron Saint Of Moin-Moinity, be attached emotionally to a lowly human female? Come on!!!!

Anyways, a brother gotta run. Hope you enjoyed my serenade like Serena drinking Lucozade.

Okay that was dry. Whatever though.

Later, bitches.

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