Roc Naija - Blog

Wordless..

2012-02-09T12:00:00.000Z

The she I knew..

2012-02-02T12:00:00.000Z

..beats the she I know, now.

My head says she's changed..
But in truth, using 'past tense' is a bit harsh
Maybe 'present continuous' will suffice..

So, I guess she's change-ing..

The she I knew would call, just because..
The she I know can't just be bothered..

The she I knew would banter late into the night..
The she I know now is too lazy to type..

The she I knew had intriguing wit..
The she I know lets sarcasm drip..

The she I knew is 'present'..
But then, the she I know is 'continuous'..

If I had a choice, I know which 'she' I'd prefer..
But in life, who really gets what they 'prefer'?

I probably just need a reality check..

But as it's all 'present continuous'..

..Maybe a reality check-ing.

Oh well..

Wordless..

2012-01-26T12:00:00.000Z

You've got mail.

2012-01-19T12:00:00.000Z

“Sometimes I wonder about my life...

In the context of the world's population, I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave?

So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around?

I don’t really want an answer.

I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void.

So good night, dear void.”

Last words I'll ever write..

2010-03-24T14:21:00.010Z

Sitting inside Musée Rodin, in the heart of cosmopolitan Paris, is a sculpture

Surrounded by camera-wielding tourists and imposing French architecture..

Nude and bronze caste, with the sun glistening off its chiselled abs and sinewed biceps,

Is Auguste Rodin's creation.. A creation now known as, the thinker..

Unwittingly, across the Dover channel, I re-enacted the same pose.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, sweat glistening on my scalp, I was in thoughtful mode..

The only thing missing were the chiselled abs.

Oh yeah, and the gawking tourists..

I could hear the water running, as the cistern filled up..
The air vent humming efficiently in the background.
The squirt of the hand-wash bottle and the accompanying splash of water..
The double click, as the pull-string bathroom light switched off.

The humming got a little louder as the door opened, and then it all went quiet.
I looked over my shoulder.

Standing in the doorway, she looked amazing.
The light from the bedside lamp cascaded shadows across her body at obtuse angles..
Reflecting off the only item she was wearing, the silver crucifix on her neck..

A striking picture.

Staring for a few seconds, I uttered my next words..
“You okay?”
“Yeah..” Came the response. Low and husky, like she had a sore throat.
Only it had been that way since the day we first met.

“Had to do a quick number two”, she said, smiling like she could predict my response.
I groaned, “Ooohh.. You know that's a TMI moment right there, right?! Too much information!!”

She giggled, pretending I hadn't said a word.
“Always happens to me after some good loving.” She said, her feet lightly brushing the carpet as she walked towards the bed.”
“Now great sex..” She continued, “..always leads to a number two and a nap. Most times I'm barely able to make it to the loo.”
I chuckled, “Is this a subtle way of telling me 'It was good but not great'??! Gee thanks for the self esteem boost!!”

Laughing, she grabbed a pillow and tossed it at me playfully, "You're such a joker.."
It whizzed right past me.
“And you're such a terrible shot” I countered, picking up the pillow from where it landed besides me.

I glanced back at her as the grabbed the newspaper and sat back on the bed, her left arm clutching the duvet just above her breasts.
“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look naked?” I asked with all the seriousness I could muster.
“Nope, but then people don't see me naked very often..” she said, pausing to pat the bed beside her, “..come”

She snuggled in, as I lay down beside her.
“So tell me.. do you believe in love? Or, like me, do you think it's just a fad.”
“A fad..?” I said, with a quizzical look on my face, “..nah I don't think it's a fad at all.”
With a hint of a smile, she continued, “so do you believe in romance?”

“Yup.. but I find it's a subjective thing. Sometimes I find what's romantic to one person might not be to the next.”“Really? How??” she asked, in that low husky voice..

I felt her snuggle in closer, as I turned to lie on my back.I could feel her breathe on my ear, her enclasped fingers lightly gripping my forearm.

“Well.. I remember this one time when I used to enjoy writing love letters. Not talking modern day emails or texts. I mean like writing with a pen and paper and all. It's amusing thinking about it now, but then, I used to think the object of my affections loved it, as in.. ehn..
Until the day I fortuitously heard her talking with her girlfriends and she saying she thought it was pretty cheesy.I was literally heartbroken, and I remember promising myself that they'll be the last words I ever write..”

I paused, chuckling, as the memories came flooding back..

Turning back towards her, I continued, “So that's an instance of...”

Then I paused again..
Cos, ever so lightly, she was snoring..

La la land.

Tattoo on Titties saying ROC..

2009-09-02T00:55:00.001+01:00

White rocking chairs??
Who has white rocking chairs in an airport terminal?!

"Classic", I thought, full of mirth.

With a perma-bemused look on my face..
I strode briskly through the glass-paned building in North Carolina..

Outside, the sweltering heat and huge airplanes, made a glorious sight..

But the sights on the inside, however, were more intriguing..

A swaying yellow dress was in my crosshairs..
And like a heat-seeking missile, I homed in..

But first, my bladder needed emptying..

A quick glance up at the signs, had me walking briskly..

Past 'Tequilaria'...
Past 'Taste of Carolina'..
Past 'QuiznosSub'..
Past the guy playing the piano outside 'Burger King'

I ducked into the closest toilet I came across..

A couple of minutes later..
I caught up with her, just as she entered 'Baggage Reclaim'
With a baggage carousel between us, I paused opposite her, as the circular conveyor belt came to life..
It's rotary motors whirring; spitting forth bag after bag at a steady pace..

I glanced across at her..
And that minute, it struck me like a lightening bolt.
Her face took me back to a place I never wanted to remember
Those facial features..
Those eyes..
They looked errily familiar..
Yeah, especially those eyes..
They brought back memories I thought I had banished, forever..

----

I had known Jola for 2 years and a bit..
Right from the start, I had always called her, Baby Jay. She just called me, Roc.

And even though we knew what we shared would never last..
We were too wrapped up in each other to care much..
I was devoted to making her happy, making her laugh, making her smile..
And she always gave as good as she got..

But still, we knew we wouldn't last..
Cos I was the wrong blood type and she was a sickle cell anaemic..

A few times, she told me tales of what it was like for her growing up..
The pain, the struggle, the everyday torment..
In my eyes, she was 'Half woman, Half amazing'..

Her 25th birthday came..
I had a few ideas on how to make it memorable.. one she'd always remember..

Everyday, for the six days preceding her birthday..
I'd gotten her something I knew she loved..

The first day; Handmade belgian chocolates.
Second; Pair of heels from Aldo, that she had once seen and loved..
Third day; Books from Waterstones. She always loved a good read.
The fourth day; A gold swatch wristwatch..
Fifth; a set of white towels, with the words 'Baby Jay' inscribed in the corner.
And on the sixth day; Flowers. A dozen red roses, a dozen pink roses, and one white one.. For each year.. 25 roses.

On her birthday..
I remember showing up on her doorstep, card and a little rectangle box in hand..
It was the only prezzie she had hinted at..

I remember her brother's face as he opened the door..
I remember the words. "Crisis! Last night! Hospital!"
I remember her weak smile as she saw me walk in..
I remember my shock at how weak she looked from all the morphine injections..
I remember us laughing at her words, as opened the box & clicked the white gold necklace into place..
"At this rate, I'm gonna have to get a tat on my tits with your name on it."

Even in pain, her wry humour shone through..

Sadly, she died ten days later.

----

"Excuse me.. Hi.. Excuse me.." The voice said..
Bringing me jarringly back into the present..

The lady in the yellow dress had walked over and was standing directly in front of me..
Smiling at me with a distinct twinkle in her eye..

Close up, she looked even prettier..
Her eyelashes were exquisite..
The slight pout to her mouth was disturbingly seductive..
And even her barely concealed black spots only served to accentuate her looks..

Just as I readied my apologies for staring indiscreetly..

She said haltingly..
"Hi. I was.. just.. uhm.. this is a bit odd.. but I noticed.. something.. and I just thought.."

Smiling amiably, "Really?" I asked "Go on, what's.."
She responded in a conspirational tone, "Your fly's open!"

An Innocence Shattered..

2009-08-26T17:45:00.004+01:00

Thanks for the comments on my last post.
Appreciate it..
The recurring theme though seemed to be when I'll do a post..
Next week, insha Allah..

Pending then though, I have an intriguing guest post this week..
From my fabulous guest blogger, miss.fab
I totally inhibited my editing side on this one, just so you'll feel the raw emotion in her writing.
Enjoy!

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I was 8 when it happened. I remember this clearly because I had just celebrated my birthday mere days before. It was another typical birthday in my house: there was no cake from my mother, no presents from my siblings, no phone call from my father... not even the neighbors or my best friends came to visit. My 8th birthday, one that I'd looked forward to all year, had just occurred, and apparently nobody but me even cared.

He was 18 when it happened. He was much, much older than me, but that wasn't even the problem, you see. The problem was this: he was my cousin, my favorite cousin at that. He was my mother's sister's son, tall and good-looking and funny and intelligent, and all the girls in our apartment loved him. I didn't know many of my other relatives, and when my friends talked about sleep overs and camping trips and summer vacations with their cousins, I always felt immensely proud to be able to tout my very own "popular" cousin. He bought me a poetry book for my birthday; he was the only one who bought me a present.

There was no electricity in our house the night it happened. I remember this because we were all watching Secrets of the Sand in the living room when the lights went out. The obligatory grumbling and hissing and cursing of the fathers, mothers, and children of NEPA employees ensued briefly, and minutes later, we all trickled out to the balcony to enjoy the breezy evening. My aunt had just begun regaling us with stories from her recent trip out of town when people on the street began screaming "Ole! Ole!" My mother, thinking our neighbors were referring to the strong gusts of wind, joyfully joined them in shouting "Ole!", something you should never do, by the way, in case there are actual armed robbers philandering and terrorizing citizens in your neighborhood.

We all went inside after a while and my uncle went down to buy Indomie for the next morning's breakfast from our Mallam. Seconds later, he ran back into the apartment, panic and something that looked like fear written all over his face. There were thieves in the building, he said, and they were holding our two Mallams and the residents of the downstairs apartment hostage. Panic erupted in our house. We'd never been robbed before, you see. I remember thinking there was nothing in our house the thieves could possibly want, but my mother seemed oblivious to this fact. She shoved my cousin and I into his room, content in the knowledge that I was safe with him, and then locked the door behind her. The adults would stay and bravely face the thieves hands-on if they ever came upstairs, she said.

I often wondered in the months that followed why my mother didn't put me in the same room with my other siblings, but what would that be implying? She could not possibly have known what would occur next. At least that's what I told myself.

I was asleep when it happened. The first thing I felt was his cold, clammy fingers between my legs. My eyes shot open immediately, and for a second I wondered where I was. I was sleeping in a strange room, wearing clothes from the day before, and there was still no light. As the events of the previous night slowly returned to my memory, I again felt my dress being gently nudged upwards. Fear struck me. Timid, innocent little me, I had no clue what was going on. At first I thought I was imagining things so I gently turned on my side to face him and yawned magnanimously, closing my legs firmly shut in the process. I kept my eyes closed, surreptitiously peeking out of one eye every now and then and trying my best to keep still. Nothing happened for a couple more minutes, and I had just convinced myself I dreamt the whole thing when I felt his hand again. This time he seemed more urgent, more aware of what he wanted, and with a distinct nudge my legs were once again wide open. Before a cry of protest could even form in my throat, he was pushing my panties aside and stroking my privates.

This is for real, I thought. I'm not dreaming this. I can't be dreaming this. I honestly didn't know what to do. I didn't want to call him out, didn't want to embarrass him. He was my cousin, my blood relation. If I said a word, things were sure to be awkward between us at the very least. But was I just going to lie there and pretend to sleep while my own family finger-raped me? There I was, torn between a misplaced love for my cousin and a fear of the unknown. What was I to do? His fingers were stroking harder, his breathing was getting louder, and I for the life of me could do nothing but lie paralyzed beside him like a corpse.

And then the strangest thing happened. The nerves in my thighs pulsated with pleasure, blood rushed into my legs and my hands and my head, and my palms felt hot against the bed sheet. I remember thinking it was all too much; the pleasure I felt was almost unbearable. My heart beat faster; I felt myself get wet and my mind fill with simultaneous urges to jerk away from him and stay within the reach of his fingers.

Within minutes it was over. I lay beside him, filled with immense shame for what had just occurred. I remember wondering how I would face him in the morning, what I would say, what he would say. Would he still give me a big sloppy kiss when I woke up? Would he still tickle my tummy and play Minesweeper with me? Would I still have to call him Uncle Dapo, or would it simply be Dapo from now on? Why was I even forced to think these things? How had we arrived at this place? My own cousin, my favorite cousin, the one whose words I hung on day after day, whose stories I loved to retell to my friends, whose prowess in the church choir was nothing short of legendary, had just done to a child (me!) what a child of that age should never have to go through. I did not know whether to burst into tears and accuse him right there and then or just go back to sleep and pretend the last 5 minutes did not just happen.

But then, what did it matter? I had sinned also, that was for sure; this had to be my fault somehow, and even if it wasn't, I had just aided and abetted a crime, enjoyed it even, and I was going to hell for it. Ten whole years after this event occurred, and I still cannot fathom my young body's reaction to his touch. I could not possibly have foreseen what was going to happen, could not possibly have known he was going to betray my trust and my innocence like that. I did not even know my body was capable of feeling or reacting that way. I hadn't even grown breasts yet!

I was only 8 when it happened; he was only 18. We were both very young, one of us much younger than the other. One of us didn't know what was happening; the other one did. In the space of three hundred seconds, one of us lost her virginity and her innocence forever.

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This story is fiction, but sadly, situations like these are much more common than most people realize. 1 in 4 girls is sexually abused before the age of 18, and 30 - 40% of all victims are abused by a family member. More than 20% of children are sexually abused before the age of 8, and nearly 50% of all victims of forcible sodomy, sexual assault with an object, and forcible fondling are children under 12.

There are many more statistics and preventive measures available online. http://www.darkness2light.org/KnowAbout/statistics.asp is a good resource for more information.

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PS. Please visit miss.fab by clicking here to leave comments.
Thanks again good people!!

The Father of my children..

2009-08-19T12:33:00.000+01:00

I did promise you a poet this week, didn't I?
Make una no vex..
Should have posted this yesterday..
But yesterday was.. Hmm.. Let's just call it a blog post for another day..

I present to you, Oluwatoyin..
Personally, I've always been impressed with her writing style..
She has a way of making otherwise complex issues quite simple..

Enjoy..
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I hate it
When he comes home late
Reeking, reeking rum
Hanging his jacket by the door
Throwing his smelly stockings on the floor

I hate it when he grabs my waist
Rubbing his rough chin on my tears
"Give me a kiss will ya?"
All I see are green veins
Swimming in his eyes like eels

Such slothfulness
He wouldn't even buy me flowers
Even when I bore him three angels
Sometimes I wonder how we did it
-how I did it
How my angels were conceived

Did I love him then?
I cannot remember.
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Please click here to visit Oluwatoyin's blog, to show her some love..

Next week, another guest blogger..
I nearly shed a tear when I read her post..
Then I got angry.. Then I felt empathy..

It'll be interesting to see everyone else's reaction to it..

Enjoy the rest of the week, beautiful people!!!!

It's okay but it's not okay..

2009-08-11T10:20:00.001+01:00

Featuring a new guest blogger on rocnaija today..

One of the more better writers in my opinion..

I pronounce her name, 'Lowly-ah'..

She spells it Lolia..

Enjoy..

P.S. - I don't insist my guests write on anything in particular..

Anything from soaring gas prices to melting glaciers is welcome..

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My mind was racing..

What to do.. What to do…

“So you’re staying here tonight then?”

I snapped out of my reverie…
“Huh?”

“You’re staying here tonight.”

It wasn’t a question anymore. It was a statement. Perhaps even a subtle command.

Why was I so afraid? We had talked about it so many times before. We loved each other so it was okay. It wasn’t a one night stand. I wasn’t giving it up for nothing. It was going to bring us closer together. We were going to get married. So why was I afraid.. uncertain.. overcome with guilt?

“Ummm…I need to get back to Lola's* house. “

“That settles it then.”

He turned out the light and came to join me on the bed. I looked around the room. I looked round, taking in the flat screen TV, the black and red sheets, the walk-in closet.

This is what I wanted wasn’t it? I wanted us to spend time together. And spend time we had. We had played tennis, hung out with his friends, played PlayStation..

We had done everything, except…

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

He was rubbing my back. I couldn’t concentrate if he was rubbing my back. There I was, wiser than my age and a proud virgin, trying to…What was I trying to do? It didn’t matter because he was tracing circles on my back with his finger. We had been dating for six months and in that time there had been no pressure, so this couldn’t be wrong could it?

Nah.. There was no way this was wrong.

I could feel my resolve weakening with every passing second...

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

He started kissing my neck. I reached for my phone and texted Lola* telling her I’d be back in the morning and that I would call her if I needed her.

And then…I stopped being afraid.

I'm sure he could sense it, he picked me up and carried me into his bathroom, placed me carefully on the sink counter and slowly pulled off my t-shirt. It was black…and tight.. I had worn it for him and now it was on the floor. It didn’t matter anymore.

I began to panic. What if I wasn’t doing things right? I had never done this before, with anyone. And he was so…experienced.

I cupped his face in my hands…

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you should take off those jeans.”

And then he did a very curious thing. He turned around and walked out. Oddly enough that only made me want him more.. it made me want it more.. I pulled off my skinny jeans and walked back into the bedroom clad in nothing but my underwear. I remember trying to be sexy, wanting him to want me..

I knew he did, he had said so, countless times but I wanted him to want me more.

In the moments that followed, I realized that I wasn’t a baby anymore. I was a woman.

And that scared me beyond words.

I climbed into bed and reached for him. He responded, taking me in his arms and kissing me. They were sweet kisses. On my neck, my face, my shoulder, between my breasts…

A low moan escaped my lips. He knew it was working.

I had never gone this far with anyone. Not him, not anyone, ever.

He reached around my back and unclasped my bra. It fell silently to the ground. He traced a ring around my nipples, first the left and then the right. I moaned again. I could feel him pressed up against my thigh…He was as hard as they come…So he did want me. I relaxed a little. I reached for him, but he stopped me. Instead his index finger traced a line from my belly button, around my waist and into my panties. He pulled them off, lay beside me and allowed his hands to explore my inner thighs…

Then his fingers disappeared..

My mind was racing. "How did I let it get this far? Was I really naked in my boyfriend’s bed? Where was this going to lead? Would I just be a statistic to him or was he telling the truth when he said it would be special because it was with me?"

My body buckled. And then I felt it. A warm glorious feeling as he fingered me into orgasm. As I breathed heavily, I remembered his words from months before:

“Baby the day you’re ready, I’m going to kiss you, every inch of you. Make you pine for me, all of me. And then…and then I’m going to make love to you.”

This was it then? Overcome by a sudden boldness, I reached for him. I heard his intake of breath as I grasped his manhood with my cold soft fingers. He moaned my name and slowly turned so his body was facing mine.

I waited for him to reach for a condom…But he didn’t. I felt him against me, silently begging me to let him make love to me. It was a good…no, a great, no…it was a wonderful feeling…the feel of his hardness against my wetness.

Maybe he had put one on when I wasn’t paying attention? But when hadn’t I paid attention? I remembered every single detail.

“Babe, no.”

He tried again. I looked him straight in the eye…

“Babe…NO”

He sighed.

“Okay.”

I felt bad. I’m sure he could tell because he held me just a little bit closer.

“Baby it’s okay. I mean it’s not okay but it’s okay.”

I laughed and kissed him as hard as I could.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

And then we slept. Naked in each others’ arms. Or he slept. I watched him, thinking how lucky I was to have a man who said things like “It’s okay.” and “I love you more.”

How so very lucky.. I was.

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I enjoyed reading this.. And hopefully you did too..

Please click here to visit Lolia's blog

And leave her comments if you will..

Thanks!

Got a poet guesting on the roc next week..

Looking forward to what she comes up with..

Have a good week people, and stay blessed!

15 questions for RocNaija!

2009-08-07T18:14:00.002+01:00

So the celeb bloggers over at Blogsville Gist came up with a spanking new idea..
A new segment called 'Blog(s)ville Gist interview Fridays'..

Basically, it involves getting to know bloggers a bit more, by featuring them in an interview segment every Friday..

And guess who they had debut in the first interview?

Yup! Yours truly.. :)

Click here to read the interview..

Gotta show my appreciation to Juiceegal as well for making it happen..
Thanks babe!

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Sequel to my post last week..

The one with the humourous car adverts..
Well, I discovered a few more that tickled my fancy..
Thought to share..

Shout out to Miss B & Cerberus for hooking me up..
Thanks for sharing guys..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So apparently, Audi thought it was a good idea to place a billboard opposite a BMW dealership..

Err.. Bad move!!!

By the following morning, BMW had responded with a billboard three times bigger..
Game Over..

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Then of course two similarly themed adverts criticising each other...
You can't beat these guys..

New guest blogger next week..

Have a good weekend people!!

Power Struggle!

2009-08-04T09:36:00.005+01:00

A new week.. And a new guest blogger..

It's a beautiful thing..

As per the feedback I recieved the last time round..

I refrained from tweaking with this as much as possible.. :)

I present to you Fabulo-la

Most of you know her already anyways..

Oh well, I'll just shut up now..
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With each kiss.. I felt my heart quake
His lips felt light.. They felt soft
He sucked on my lower lip gently..

He was kissing me
But I wanted to kiss him
His lips tasted like nectar
But I wanted more
He was showing me he was in charge
BUT I WANTED TO BE IN CHARGE..

So I struggled
My hands reached for his wrists
My lips pushed back against his
But e no gree

Pausing.. He pulled back.. and looked me in the eye
Eyes piercing, like he was staring into the depth of my soul
I returned his stare unflinchingly..

Shifted his weight, he pinned me against the wall
Holding my hands high above my head
This time kissing me hard and forcibly..
I felt my resolve to struggle, weaken as the adrenaline pumped
Just then he slowed down again
I felt my hands drop back to my sides, as he released them..
His fingers raking through my braids..
The band holding it together came off easily, braids falling freely around my shoulders.

He cupped my face in his hands..
His fingers tracing lines over my face..
He kissed my eyes
My nose, My cheeks
My ears, My neck
And then my lips again
Slowly he worked his hands across my shoulder
Undoing the buttons of my sweater letting it fall to the ground.

“Why is he wasting time?” I thought to myself

I struggled to take charge again.
Or maybe he just let me this time?
I pushed him back against the lone table in the room
Sending his hefty criminal law books, crashing in one motion
I guess Law School would have to wait.

I climbed on top of him, as his back hit the table
I was clearly in a hurry
He watched amusedly, as my fingers reached for his shirt
Fervently, I began to rip his buttons off

Thinking to myself
“Why the heck was he wearing such difficult clothes anyways? Who does that?”

Shirt off, my braids tickled his face as I bent lower,
He giggled as I sucked on his earlobes
His neck.
His nipples.
He giggled again.

I liked that.. I liked that I made him giggle.

Feeling all tingly with anticipation..
I decided to take my time with his belt.
Slowly, I worked my way down from his neck to his belly.
Then out of nowhere.. WHOOSH!
He was back in charge again, pinned against the wall helplessly.

“How the hell did he do that?” I chuckled to myself
Me likey.
All this struggle for power.
Now that got me giggling harder.
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I know you were as intruiged as I was, right?

Please visit my guest, Fabulo-la, and show her some love..

Imoteda, miss.fab, uNWritten, I dey wait una oh..

Stay blessed beautiful people!!

Tickling my fancy on a Friday..

2009-07-31T18:44:00.001+01:00

Shout out to all the commenters on my previous post!
I was sort of caught in between responding or not, seeing as I had a guest blogging..
Appreciate all the feedback though.. Y'all too gbaski! :)

Took on board the critique as well..
Seeing as I have a new guest, blogging on Monday or Tuesday..
I'll be looking forward to everyone's feedback on that too..

In other news..
I've been looking to change cars..
Get something more.. whatchamicallit..?!

Anyways, there I am, browsing a few car shops online..
And I noticed a lot of car manufacturers take low shots at each other, in their car ads..
As in, proper beef, but it still struck me as hilarious..

So, apparently Jaguar started it, slagging off BMW's M5..

BMW responded swiftly, with this ad underneath..
Note the Jaguar icon on the hood taking flight on sighting the BMW?

Not content at just taking shots at the Jaguar brand, they got Audi in on the act..

After seeing that, I was like "Damn!"
That.. was until I saw Audi's response..

Six consecutive Le Mans races..
Showed consistency, efficiency and mechanical excellence..
I couldn't think of anyone else who could top that..

Until.. I saw Bentley's response..

Classic!

Have you seen any funny car ad's recently?

Stay blessed beautiful people!!

Bubbles... on the Roc!

2009-07-27T12:44:00.000+01:00

A while back, I wrote a post about opening rocnaija to guest bloggers..

Seems like eons ago now.. Anyways, my first guest blogger came through..

And I was actually quite impressed..

I present to you... Bubbles.

Feel free to comment on her writing and please visit her space to extend the love you've always shown me to her as well.

PS. If the writing style looks similar to my usual posts, it's because I adapted it a bit..

Enjoy..

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My room was quiet..
Eerily quiet..
Except for just one sound..
Tic.. Toc.. Tic.. Toc..

I glanced over at my table clock..
It’s green metallic base, reflected the lone bulb in the room..
It was the same one I’d seen online and fallen for at first sight..
The same one my mom had given me over Christmas..
All wrapped up in my favorite pink-colored wrapping paper..
The same one she had..

The slight movement beneath me broke me out of my reverie..
His hardness was pressed firmly against the base of my spine..
His arms wrapped around my waist..
His labored breathe rustling the hair on the back of my neck..

I’d always known this day would come..
I had read too many books.. Seen too many films.. Heard too many tales..
I felt I was ready..
Ready to lose it to someone I truly cared about..
Ready to.. pop my cherry
Ready to finally lose my virginity..

Not like this though..
This was not how I imagined my first time…
I’d pictured a bed..
Maybe some silk sheets..
Sweet nothings in my ear..
Butterfly kisses all over my body..
But on a hard uncomfortable chair in my college room?!
No! Definitely not like this..

He flicked open my bra hooks..
And ran his fingers lightly down my back..
I felt the goose bumps on my skin before I saw them..
“You ready?” he whispered, as his fingers roved..
My back.. My rib cage.. My waist.. My thighs..
“I.. I.. I think so.. ” I stammered in return..

A mental battle raged in my head..
“What if I was terrible?” “What if I didn’t have a clue what to do?” “Wouldn’t he compare me with all his past lovers?” But the further his fingers travelled, the harder it became to think..

“Are you sure?” he asked, as I turned round to face him..
Legs apart.. Gingerly easing myself on to him, I bit my lip and nodded..
Couldn’t bring myself to say a word..

I reached down to grasp him..
The feel of his bare skin sent shock waves through me..
“You are not wearing.. a condom?” I whispered, my eyes widening in shock..
He looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights..
“Uhm.. y’know.. you can’t really get pregnant the first time.. And uhm.. y’know we could just.. y’know.. do it for like a minute.. I’ll just put it in.. but…”
“Are you freaking kiddin’ me??” I retorted, rising back to full length.. “That’s not gonna happen.. forget it.”
“Oh! Come on!! Just a minute..” desperacy creeping into his voice, “I promise, not longer than a minute.. please!”

He put my forefinger in between his lips..
And sucked it.. slowly..
I felt my iron-cast resolve weaken..
Then, it evaporated..

I barely recognized my voice as it croaked..
“Fine... Just one minute.”
Closing my eyes..
Images flashed at the speed of light..
Pink wrapping paper..
My clock..
My mom..
Her words of advice..
One minute?
18 years of keeping my virginity..
18 years!
And he only wanted it for one minute!!

I shook my head vigorously..
“I don’t think I’m ready.. not just yet.” He sighed in exasperation…
“But I’m horny… can you at least suck me or something??” I got up and crossing my arms to cover my modesty..
“That’s not going to happen..” I said, emphasizing each word, as I picked up my clothes,
“I think its best you leave, now”
He glared at me as he dressed up..
Not a word exchanged..
Then swearing under his breathe..
He nudged the table as he stormed out..
Slamming the door shut behind him..
And sending my table clock crashing to the floor in his wake..

Thoughtfully, I stood there and uttered a quick prayer..
I thanked God for giving me the strength to avoid a possible mistake..
With only one sound piercing my train of thought..

Just one sound..

Tic.. Toc.. Tic.. Toc..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's a wrap, people.. :)

Be kind with your critique of my guest, Bubbles (Click here to visit her blog)..

If anyone else would like to do this..

Holla at your boy..
One.

A yellow dress in the distance..

2009-07-24T02:11:00.010+01:00

I had my Google reader open..
167 unread messages and counting..
It was something else that made me look up though..

The boy in seat 20C was crying again..
He’d been at it intermittently, since lift off..
He didn’t look a day older than two..
And at that age, it’s probably to be expected..

The wailing got a bit louder..
He sounded like he was in pain..
Or just extremely cranky..

His mom sighed and muttered under her breathe..
His dad stood up, again..
Blue tee shirt..
Big yellow ‘S’ across his chest..
Lifting his son up, he stood rocking him between the dimly-lit aisles..
Whispering soothing words in his ear..
People, with full bladders, circumnavigated them, heading for the toilets in the rear..
Air hostesses hustled past, running a variety of errands..

Father and son..
Little arms round his dad’s neck..
He whimpered as he succumbed to the clutches of sleep..
A sight to behold..
The only thing missing.. was a cape.

“Superdad..” I chuckled inwardly, from my seat in 24A..
Tearing my eyes away, I glanced back at the little gadget in my hand..
Then at the Indian bloke sitting besides me..
He was glued to the screen on the back of the seat in front of him..
Valkyrie was on..

I cupped my face in my hands..
My neck hurt..
My eyes stung..
My back ached..
The left side of my head was pounding..
Paja paja in both feet, from sitting in one spot for too long..
Plus, I needed a wee..
And I had 167 unread posts..
Damn..

Three hours later..

I was standing behind a yellow line..
Watching the blue uniformed guy, play Larry King with the lady in front of him..
She glanced away.. Rolled her eyes..
Then glared at him in exasperation..

Earphones buzzing in my ears, my eyes travelled south..
Curly weave.. Short yellow dress.. Abortion belt.. Black shiny tights.. Heels..
Waiting my turn, my lips moved to the voices of Lil’ wayne & Shawn Carter..

"Hey Mr Roc
I am him!
Tell me where you been?
Around the world and back again
They been asking, they been searching, they been wondering.."

The blue uniformed guy motioned me over..
I pulled the earphones out..

"How you doing today, sir?" He asked.
"Great.." I replied
"You been anywhere else before arriving here today?"
"Yeah.. Amsterdam and Guadalupe.. "
"Okay, enjoy your stay there?"
"Enjoyed the weather better" I responded
"Great stuff.. Place your thumb on the screen..
Now the other four fingers..
Now the other hand..
Now stand in front of the camera..
That's fine.." Handing my passport back to me
"Have a great stay in the United States.." He said, as he motioned the next person to the glass partition..

"Thanks", I muttered, slipping my passport back into my pocket..
My head swivelled 180 degrees scanning the terminal, as I walked away..
Eyes honing in on what it sought..
A yellow dress sashaying in the distance..
Hands flicking hair over a bare shoulder..

I quickened my step..

When grandeur plans fall..

2009-07-01T14:57:00.004+01:00

It had been 360 days..
Actually, three hundred and sixty one days..
From the first day..
When we'd first become.. official
She figured I'd forgotten..
But that was always the plan..
To surprise her..

I read the online reviews..
The hotel had a four-star rating..
But the customers rated it a five..
A five minute walk to the beach..

Buffet breakfast included..

English speaking staff..
I booked it..

Bought the plane tickets..
British Airways..
Departure time.. Friday, 1920 hrs..
To return sometime on Thursday..

I emailed the hotel..
Added on a few extras..
They confirmed..
There'd be, champers on ice...
A dozen red roses waiting, when we arrived...

I packed her stuff..
Shoes..

Bikini..
Clothes..

Lingerie..

Make up...
Travel documents..

Then I packed mine..

Showed up at her office..
Just before she closed..
Approximately 40 minutes, before..

"Roc?" She said, as she walked into the reception..
"What are you doing here?" she asked, quizzical look on her face..
"Do you reckon you can leave now?" I asked..
Her brow furrowed, "Probably.. I'll just need to shut down my computer, but.."
"Go on then.." I replied, easing into a seat, "..quick as you can"

Twenty five minutes later..
Sitting on the Heathrow Express, from Paddington station..
She battered me with questions..
"So where are you going?"
"How come you never mentioned it before?"
"Is this work-related?"
"How long will you be gone for?"

And to every question..
She got the same answer..
"You'll find out, when we get there"

We alighted at the airport..
Walked into the terminal..
Her eyes widened, as we joined the queue..
"You're going to.. Nice? South of France?"

The queue shuffled forward..
"We.. Not I.. We.." I responded
"You know I can't do that, Roc.. Work and all.." she cantered..

"We'll just have to think of something to tell them then, won't we..?"

The trip was.. exotic..

Six days of pure bliss..

She looked amazing in her orange and white polka dot bikini..

The sight of the beach at night.. words cannot describe..

We shopped and window shopped at Lafayette and Monoprix..

And strolled past glitzy casinos where millions were wasted..

Watched the sun rise every morning & set every evening, sand in our feet..

We marveled at the glorious sight of yatches banked on the Riviera..

And giggled at the rubbish Chinese vermicelli that made us fart all night..

It was fun.. it was beautiful.. it was heaven..

The days flew by..

And all too soon, it was time to go..

Sitting on the plane together..

I fell asleep with a smile on my face..

Not long after...

I woke to the sound of her sniffles..

Her face was turned away..

Looking out the window..

Sniffling..

I whispered her name..

Tears rolled down her face as she turned to face me...

"Roc.. I've been.. I been meaning to tell you.. but.."

I cupped her face in my hands..

Whispering sweet nothings..

She sobbed a bit more..

"I can't.. I couldn't.. It's so hard to say this but..I don't think..."

Watching as the tears dropped off her face..

I thought to myself..

"Is this what happens, when grandeur plans fall... flat?!"

If I had an Italian son, it might be different..

2009-06-23T08:56:00.005+01:00

This morning..
At approximately 08:24am
Somewhere in between Euston and London Bridge station, on the Northern line..
I thought to myself, "If I had an Italian son, how would I raise him?"

Weird.. I know..

It was a bumpy ride..
I was flipping through The Times newspaper..
Then I turned over.. to page 29..
Berlusconi's story.. The Italian prime minister..

A quick breakdown..

He's 72.. His wife is 40 something..
And he's embroiled in a sex scandal..
He's allegedly been getting it on with girls as young as 18..
He, apparently, showed the French prime minister a soft porn mag, and said..
"I've had her, her and her.."
He has escort girls attend dinners and parties to make it more 'pleasant'..
Girls with nicknames like 'long thighs'

He, of course, says it's a smear campaign..

But that's besides the point..

This is not a post about whether prostitution is right or wrong..
Or a man cheating is right or wrong..
It's easier playing judge & jury..
So I'll leave that to the bible-brandishing firebrands..

But..

The part that caught my attention was the opinion of Italian men..

One said.. "Men of power need a lot of sex"
Isn't that like totally passing the buck?

Another said "If Berlusconi doesn't gain sexual satisfaction, he governs badly.."
Err.. Ok.. So being able to execute your job properly is directly related to how many orgasms you have???

But the one that took the cake for me, was the minister that said..
"If he spent the night with a call girl, he was only the 'end user' "

Like WTF? Since when did a woman become an operating system like Windows Vista..
And the man is only using what is available..?? The end user??!!
Now that just smacked of total disrespect, to me..

At this point, I sort of came to the conclusion that it probably all boiled down tothe mentality of an Italian man..
Plus, the stereotype of them being hot-blooded and all..

Made me wonder, how they were brought up to percieve women, when they were boys..
Made me wonder, if I had an Italian son, how would I raise him..?

I believe..
If you teach a boy to ride a bicycle properly..
When he becomes a man..
He won't try pedalling with his hands down a hill..

If you teach a boy to drive a car..
When he becomes a man..
He won't sit in the boot and wonder why the car isn't moving..

So when I do have a son..
He probably won't be eye-talian..

But..

I'll watch his fingers curl around mine, in that delivery room..
I'll hold his hand as he learns to walk..
I'll teach him to ride his first bike..
And wipe his knees, everytime he falls..
Maybe even one day, teach him to drive..

But the day he walks out, to go on that first date..

I'll walk him to the front door..
Put my hand on his shoulder..
And say to him..

"If you have a good woman in your presence, feel blessed..
You wouldn't disrespect God and she deserves that same treatment."

**I wrote this yesterday but forgot to post**

For a minute.. I felt violated!

2009-06-16T19:35:00.003+01:00

The house was quiet..
Eerily quiet..
Most of the stuff was in the van outside..
The few items left, were..
The couch, we sat on, in the lounge..
The king-sized bed upstairs..
The American fridge-freezer in the kitchen..
And the stack of empty boxes in a corner..

"Oh! Stop it, Roc!" she pleaded
"What?!"
"Stop playing with my hair" She said, playfully swatting my hand off..
"Why?" I paused "You don't like it?"
"It's err.." Her voice went down a notch "It's making me.. horny."
"Awww.." I replied, as my fingers returned to her spliced kinky braids..
"We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Not long after.. her shoulders twitched..
My index finger traced a line..
From the base of her neck.. down her arm.. to the inside of her elbow..
She crossed her legs
Then she uncrossed them..
My finger traced their way back..
She sighed, crossing her legs again..

A couple of minutes later, she turned to face me..
But her eyes were already closed..

My hand slipped under her shirt..
Two fingers nimbly unclasping her bra..
"That was quick" she murmured, as she lifted her top off, and got them out the way..
"I do magic tricks.." I whispered, "Poof! And your clothes are gone"
"Yeah right.." She replied, leaning towards me..

I could taste the nicotine on her lips, as we kissed..
Her tongue, darkened from that dire habit..
Was all over mine..
My teeth..
My gums..
Behind my lips..
Under my tongue..
The roof of my mouth..
Everywhere..

One minute, I felt so violated..
Next couple of minutes.. Insanely turned on..
A myriad of emotions..

"So.." She paused, pulling away "Will this end up on the internet as well..?"
"Huh?!”
She reached for her smoke-box on the floor..
Lit one.. Took a drag..
Then asked again..
"Is this going to end up on your thing.. your rocnaija thing..?”
"Uhm.. I dunno..” I responded.. "Wait.. How did you.."
She smiled.. "I'd be curious though.." pausing to take another drag,
"If you did write about.. y'kno.. I'd be curious as to how you'd write it"
"Do you mind.." Picking my next few words slowly..
"..if we.. have this.. uhm.. conversation some other time? You're kinda messing up my mojo here.."

She rolled her eyes..
Took another drag..
Stubbed it out and stood up..
"Come.." she said, unbuttoning her denim skirt, wiggling her waist as she stepped out of it, "let's go upstairs.."

Glancing from her eyes.. to the only item of clothing she had on.. her boyshorts..
My clothes joined the heap on the floor in seconds..

Walking up the stairs behind her, I smiled, imagining the sight we made..
She, looking pretty in pink, in her boyshorts and waist beads..
Me, one step behind, in my boxers and socks..

The next hour plus was absolute bliss..
Everytime she got close..
I slowed things down..
And everytime I got close..
She slowed things down..

We both knew when it did happen..
It'd be amazing..

I heard her squeal..
Looking up at her, my hands held her waist..

Expecting waterfalls..

She stopped..

Squeal caught mid-sentence in her throat...
Her eyes opening wide in shock..
As did mine..

A key rustled in the front door downstairs..
The lounge light came on..

Shit.

My heart is obliterated..

2009-06-09T13:26:00.004+01:00

"Sorry..! Just wouldn't do it..
My heart is obliterated..
I'm trying to move through..
But it's like.. moving mountainsss.."

Sometimes you be going through stuff..
Then you hear that one song..

I listened to these guys right here sing this words…
And it redefined what the words of the song meant to me..

Cant remember whose blog I was on, when I virtually bumped into ‘em..
First song I listened to was a cover for Bey’s Halo, right here..
Amazing harmony.. Never knew the song could sound that good..
If you got time.. Give 'em a listen..
Timeless music..

Anyways.. For some reason..
Yesterday, my random mind was thinking..
What's the literal opposite of a 'one night stand'?
Two days sitting?

Fashion faux pas?
Or am I just so old school all of a sudden?
Saw a girl at Wimbledon yesterday..
Black gladiator sandals, with gold studs.. Nice..
A black knee-length pencil skirt.. Nicer..
A white figure-hugging tank top.. No comment..
Pearl necklace.. Exquisite..
Hair looked exactly like this.. Dunno what it's called..
Bob with front fringe or whateva..
And then..
She dons huge bright purple peacock earrings..?! Screeeeccchhh!!!
Am I odd to think it was all going so well, then suddenly went downhill?
So wrong..

I’ll be changing the web address to this site in the coming days..
All depends on how long it takes me to figure out how to do it..
I’ll probably be moving from http://www.rocnaija.com
To http://blog.rocnaija.com
The main hassle for my enlightened readers, will probably be that my blog may no longer update on blogrolls..
And my 23 email subscribers will probably have to re-subscribe to continue getting email updates..
I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get there..
You’ll still be able to access the blog via http://www.rocnaija.com ,
'Cause there'll be a link to the blog there..
Anywaysssssss… I’ll try it first and let you guys know what’s up!!

Hypothetical scenario here.. :-)
Girl says, "Please.. Let’s not.. I don't want to.."
So.. You don't touch her..
But as she says those words..
She's unbuckling your belt..
Unzipping your trousers..
Reaching into your boxers..
Do you take her 'no' to mean 'yes'?
Does her 'no' mean 'maybe'?
Or does her 'no' mean 'no' until otherwise instructed?
Just wondering..

Shout out to everyone who took the time to comment on my last post...!!
My apologies for being such a lazy bugger..
Y'all are stars!! Roc appreciates..

Enjoy the rest of the week!!

Roc, Rape & Retribution..

2009-06-04T09:54:00.004+01:00

I stopped..
"This ain't working" I muttered..
Buried deep within Emem, I lay there..
Motionless..
Her hair tickled my nostrils, with every breathe I took..

We'd been spooning..
Her head lay on my left arm..
My right arm circled her waist..
Pulling her towards me with each thrust..
She'd been making all the right noises..
But it felt mechanical.. emotionless..

“Did you come baby?” She asked..
I chuckled.. “Not even close..”
"I told you we should have done some li..”
"Don't even go there” I said gruffly, cutting her off abruptly..

A while back she had brushed off her drug habit..
Just something she & her ex had indulged in whenever they got intimate, she’d said
Now she rarely enjoyed sex without a lil’ something on the side..
Mary j.. x.. sizzlers.. coke.. lsd.. pebbles..
“Bull crap” I’d responded..

An hour and something later..
We were pretty much just going through the motions..
'Cause it just wasn’t happening..

“Be back in a minute..” she whispered, sneaking off to the bathroom..
I lay there.. and fell asleep..

I woke up with a start..
Twenty minutes later..

Glanced round the room..
Stautus quo.. Clothes everywhere..
Her handbag was gone..

I rolled off the bed..
Walked towards the bathroom..
And tried the door handle..
Locked..

“You okay in there??” I asked..
Her voice sounded muffled..
“Uhm.. I’ll be out in a minute..”

It wasn’t exactly rocket science..
I knew what she as up to..
I walked..
Grabbed my boxers.. jeans.. shirt..

The door opened behind me..
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like? Think I'm gonna let you OD with me here?” I replied as I pulled on my boxers..
“But.. What do you.. Don’t you dare walk out on me Roc...” she shrieked, raising her voice..
“I told you I’m not down with that shit.. and then you go lock yourself in the toilet.. Do I look like I’m stupid?” I buttoned my shirt..
She ran towards me.. grabbed my jeans off the bed..
“I’m not letting you leave..”

Her eyes were red.. her hair dishevelled..
“You’re crazy! Gimme my…” I reached for my jeans..
She dropped it and rushed at me.. screaming..
Her nails clawing my face.. my shirt.. my arms..
I held her hands off..

She had left scratch marks on me.. & was kicking wildly..
My shins.. my knees.. and everything in between..
I pushed her back.. forcefully.. on to the bed..
She looked round for something to throw at me..
I swiftly picked my jeans up..
The bedside lamp crashed against the wall behind me as I bent down..

“ARE YOU MAD???!” I shouted at her.. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR.."

She responded.. but..
I didn't hear her the first time..
Or at least I didn't think I did..
My eyes narrowed as I focused on her..
"What did you just say?” I asked her
"I said don't you dare walk out on me, Roc.." She replied, breathing heavily.. “Or.. I'll call the police!”

I'm rarely surprised.. but still..

Her words caught me off guard..
"Me? Roc..?” My hands clenched tight in my pockets..

“You'll call the police on me? And then what? Tell them to strap me down, while you have your way?”

“No..” her voice still high pitched..
Adrenaline pumping through her system..
“I’ll tell them.. that you raped me..”

A Cobweb Clearance..

2009-05-29T14:50:00.004+01:00

Random thoughts on a Friday afternoon. Sue me..

'ECILOP'..
That's how 'Police' in the UK is spelt in front of their cars..
Wrong way round..
So when they're following you and u look in the rear view mirror you won't have to guess who it is..

My friend Zee lost her baby.. The baby’s vital organs weren’t developed enough to survive..
I wrote her a poem that I was going to post.. But it made me feel worse when I re-read it.
So I didn’t, as she reads my blog as well.
Thanks a lot to everyone that left supportive messages..
She saw ‘em.. and it made a difference..

Does anyone else chew sweets?
I chew sweets all the time. I don't lick.. suck or whatever..
I whizz through peppermints at the speed of light, just crunching along happily.
Once in a while I think about it though.. Am I weird?

An ex once told me she had ovarian cysts, that could potentially develop into fibroids...
Her dad had kidney problems and was diabetic...
Her mom had had a partial stroke a few years earlier..
We broke up not long after.
Weird coincidence, of course...

Meanwhile, does anyone else vex when they see the way Africa is depicted on non-African tv stations? That ish gets on my nervessssss...
Or am I just weird, again?

Was in Lagos for three weeks for a wedding...
Met her at the wedding..
She was bridesmaid, I was a grooms man..
Said she'd been celibate & 'bobo'-less for 3 years..
Four days later, we talking in my hotel room, somewhere off Opebi.
The one with the staccato air conditioning..
She’s wearing a mini & a floral spaghetti top.. without the spaghetti's.

Reception calls when they see her hail okada, one hour later..
To crosscheck I haven't been drugged and robbed..
Or robbed and drugged, as the case maybe..
She stops off to get condoms from Juli pharmacy..
& Charcolate chicken from Tastee..

Spends the night..
"Usually I don't do this" she whispers..
I re-acquaint her with what she'd been missing for 36 months plus..
She was eager to make up for lost time..
Eager to clear out all the cobwebs..
Wee hours of midnight, she whispers “You make me feel like a woman”..

Next morning.. showered..
Looking fresh to death..
Sits on the bed, facing me..
Legs crossed in yoga position..
Looking all serious, she asks..
"Now that you've seen my C.V..... do I get the job?"

Do I look like the head of a human resources department?

Have a good weekend people!!

Everybody Nose..

2009-05-27T13:22:00.003+01:00

I was lying on a bed that felt.. sinfully soft..
And the view..
Was glorious..

Her hair, fresh from a steamy shower, was wet..
Her eyes, closed in orgasmic expectancy..
Nipple rings glistened off the rays of the rising sun, straying through the open curtains..
Her tummy honed from years of pounding treadmills..
Knees bent as she squatted..

Her third piercing..
Hovered just above my face..
Just above my lips..
Nestled in a delicate place between her legs..
Between those labia majora lips..

I flicked at it..
Spelling imaginary letters of the alphabet with my tongue..
Swirling in circles and straight lines round the little silver ring..

Not sure what it was exactly..
The general ambience of the room..
Or the redbull & vodka coursing through our veins..
Or my vicious tongue game..

’Cause one minute..
She was sighing quietly..
Her body rocking backwards & forwards..
The next minute..
She was talking gibberish..

"Do you la la la... baby?
Ohhh.. it's so.. Ah.. Slooo..
Bay.. Baby.. See how.. No..
Oh no.. I don't want to.. Oh no..
Don't let me.. Please don't let..
What are you.. what are you doi.."

She paused..
For a few seconds..
Then her body quaked..
Letting out a blood curling wail..

A couple of minutes later..
She was lying besides me..
An occasional shiver traversing her body..

"Damn..!! That was gooooood.." She said smiling smugly, looking sideways at me.. "I did say you'd enjoy finding my little gem.."
"Uhm.. Only you forgot to mention you're a walking tsunami", I replied, as I looked round for tissue...

She reached across to hold my hands down..
As she licked her juice trails off me..
My ears..
My cheeks..
My neck..
Slowly.. Sensually..

"You know what you're doing to me, don't you?” I whispered hoarsely..
She glanced over her shoulder, saying "Roc, I can SEE what I'm doing to you"

"You know.." She kissed me "..what I.." and kissed me "..feel like.." and kissed me, "..right now?" she asked as she kissed me again.
"What? " I asked, watching her warily...
"Everybody nose" she replied, as she stepped off the bed..
My eyebrows creased, as I tried to make sense of what she said "You've lost me babe, 'everybody knows' what? "
"Roccc!! Not 'everybody knows'.. I meant.. ", she giggled, "..Everybody nose" tapping her nose for emphasis.

Reaching into her handbag..
She brought out a slim metallic case..
And showed me the contents..

“Coke baby..” she said
Pouring a bit on the table..
She made a straight line with a bank card..
Whipped out a little straw..
And glanced at me..
“Are you still lying there, Roc?”

Speechless then & speechless now..

2009-05-20T16:22:00.006+01:00

Yesterday was a bit odd..
Every couple of minutes..
The rain and sunshine kept interchanging..
And every couple of minutes..
My usually-calm-mind went into overdrive..

My emotional sided brain was mulling over..
What post to should go up next..
There's the sequel to my last post, ‘When celibacy calls’, titled, 'So Google wrote me'
There's the sequel to Paige's story, ‘Nipples & Nibbles’, tentatively titled 'Me, you & who??'
There's my take on a little excerpt from Ms. Shona's manuscript, that I titled, 'Death was her addiction'.
There's the sequel to Emem's story ‘Every girl’s got a secret’, tentatively titled 'Sex Weed, Everybody Nose'
Then there are a couple of in-the-pipeline posts..
'Roc, Rape & Retribution', as well as, 'Arranged marriage needed! ASAP!'

However, my rationale sided brain was also telling me to..
Finish sorting out the designs for Rocnaija Apparel & get that site up and running..
Read the small print on book publishing that my friend thoughtfully sent across..
And start working on that collection of short ~~erotic~~ exotic stories, that might one day evolve into a book..
GidiBlogs..
Plus, I hadn't even touched my 'Spoken Visuals' concept, inspired by the spoken word..
Coupled with my day job.. And my usual random thought process..

Yesterday was a bit odd..

Somewhere in between though.. I had a call from Zainab..

Might go more in-depth about her someday..
But basically, I've known her for about seven years..
She's been through some harsh & dire situations..
I was one of the few people she knew she could count on asides from her family.
After loads of different stuff.. She finally moved to the UK.
In a better zone, mentally & financially, but going on 37 with no man was hard...
Anyways, she finally met someone..
They been married a year plus some..
They’re both not young.. and they were trying hard for a baby..
But no luck.. So it meant more drama from his family..
Then some months back.. she called.. she was ecstatic.. she was pregnant..
After all the prayers.. the drugs.. the day-counting.. the hospital check-up's.. the tears..
I was so glad for her, I was speechless.. didn’t know what to say..

Yesterday, we spoke again..

Zee: Hi, Roc..
Roc: Hey! What’s up?
Zee: I’m in the hospital..
Roc: Really??? Why?? What’s wrong? What’re you doing there?
Zee: Noticed some blood, two days ago.. The doctors did some checks.. and they said my womb had opened..
Roc: WHAT?! How? Why?
Zee: They did a surgical procedure to tighten it.. and they said to go home and just monitor it and call if anything happens..
Roc: Oh.. So what happened..?
Zee: My water broke yesterday.. and I’ve been having contractions..
Roc: How far gone are you?
Zee: Twenty three weeks and two days, today. The doctors said the baby or myself might catch an infection with the water breaking.. But the chances of the baby's survival are next to nothing.
Roc: Nooooo... How old does the baby have to be?
Zee: At least 24 weeks, to at least have a slim chance of surviving.. I’m a week short..
Roc: Oh no.. How about your hubby? Have you told your mom?
Zee: He’s here.. Yeah, I've told her.. She's praying..
Roc: I’m speechless Zee… We can only pray.. That’s all we can do.. Pray.
Zee: I know.. I’ve cried so much over the last few days.. but me crying isn’t helping matters or changing anything..
Roc: What hospital are you in?
Zee: St. Mary’s..
Roc: Okay.. I’m driving now.. I’ll call you back when I get home..
Zee: Alright Roc, talk to you later..
Roc: Yeah.. Bye..
Zee: Bye..

When celibacy calls..

2009-05-17T20:05:00.006+01:00

Just a couple of random thoughts here..

Bored.. On a train home..

Never blogged on a Sunday..
Don't think I have anyways..
So breaking a ~~meaningless~~ unspoken rule..

Flabby & Loila - 'loosely based on true occurrences' a la Roc definition..
Real people, real situations..
But sequence & timing of events might differ in some cases.
Sometimes identities are protected.. And sometimes not.

Why are trains so noisy?
Can't someone come up with some electromagnetic technique?
Where trains just hover over the railtrack..
Using GPS or something to stay on course?

Ms. Shona didn't get my 'Kanye - Good life' gag on her last post. :(

Best philosophy for when celibacy calls?
Switch your phone off!
"Sorry bro, no network"

Thinking about having guest-bloggers on rocnaija..
On a monthly basis.. or something..
So if you're interested holla at your boy..

For early adapters with internet-enabled phones..
I’ve just re-upped a ‘RocNaija on your mobile’ link..
At the top of this homepage..
Quicker upload time for your iphones, pda’s and all that..

Uhm.. Just out of curiosity..
Can you get sore throat from cunninglin-kini?

A few good people seemed to misunderstand my penultimate post..
Waste of saliva.. As a critique of gossip sites like bossip & perez hilton..
Wasn’t the case..
They get paid to do it.. Can’t hate on their grind..

Got an email from some travel company in Asia..
Wanting to place ads on rocnaija..
I reckon I'll wait & hope LaSenza rings.. someday..

A friend wants an appreciation day after every birthday.
Says “one day just isn't enough.”
I think it's easier to just name the month after yourself, like this dude right here..
He even a month after his mom..

Does anyone believe in horoscopy, psychics, palm readers & all that bladderdash?
Here's what mine said in the londonpaper last week.

Click to enlarge

And yes, the sole reason for mentioning that, is to alert you.
October sounds pretty boring, Roctober has a nice ring to it, no..?

Anyways some weeks back, Google wrote me a letter..

**Hmm.. this post is getting too long.. So, more on Google after the cut.**

Have a good week beautiful people!!

Every girl's got a secret.

2009-05-14T15:52:00.004+01:00

I didn't look at the number.. I just picked it when it rang..

“Can you pick me up at Kings Cross station, in about three hours, Roc?”
“Why?” I replied “What’s happening at Kin.. Wait.. hold on a sec..”
Quick glance at the number again.. Perplexed..
“Hey, I thought you were in France?” I said..
“I am! But I'm getting the Eurostar any minute now.. Swapped sim cards early... So, quick, can you?”
“Uh.. uhm.. no worries.. call me when you get in..” I said
“Aww.. thanks! You’re a star!”

I hung up..
Surprised the call even came through in the first place..

I’d not seen Emem in close to two years..
Or heard from her, for that matter..
We’d always had a platonic..
But not-so-platonic relationship..
We’d kissed but not a lot..
Touched but not a lot..
Never really gone beyond that..
Then.. she said, she’d met someone..
She was moving to France with him..
Plus she was tired of London..
Plus she’d learn a new language..
Plus..
The list went on..

Three hours & a quarter later..
She walked out..
Looking prettier than I last remembered..
We hugged.. talked.. laughed..
She was hungry.. For a burger..
I put her suitcase in the car boot..
And we walked..

I watched as she picked out the pickles from her Big Mac..
She really did look.. different..

Looking at her quizzically, I asked “Did you.. dye your hair?”
She giggled.. “I didn’t think you would notice.. Had did it like this for about five months”
“How come? What did…” raising my eyebrows “..have to say about it?”
“Oh him.. we broke up just before I did it.. so in some ways dying my hair was kinda like therapy for me”
“Really? Aww..” I said, smiling as I feigned pain.
She laughed.. “Don’t even go there..”
“So what else did you do..? Scratch his car? Paint Monaco red on with his credit card?”
She smiled at me mischievously..
Her lipstick staining the straw she sucked on..
“I... I’ll just show you” she said, leaning forward..
She placed her left hand over my right..
And pulled it towards her left breast..

She wasn’t wearing a bra..
I could feel her sheer blouse..
I could feel her nipple..
And I could feel metal..

“Girl! You didn’t!!” I chortled, drawing away, shocked..
“Oh yes I did! Both of them..” she had that mischievous smile again.. “…and …somewhere else.”
“Really?!”
“Hmmm.. Roccccc!!” she said as she laughed.. “What are you thinking?”
“Err.. Nothing.. How come you never told me..”
“My lil’ secret, Roc.. Every girl’s got one.. Besides..” she replied as she finished her drink and reached for her coat. “..it’ll be more fun watching you find out yourself.”

Waste of saliva!

2009-05-07T23:55:00.005+01:00

Looking up from the computer game she was playing..
Sara said, "Can I ask you a question, mom?”

Even without hearing those words, Ann knew what was coming..
She had been expecting a barrage of questions from her inquisitive fourteen year old daughter..
Especially as she’d been witness to the vociferous argument from the night before..

She gripped the steering wheel a bit more, as she responded.. "Go on Sara..”

"When you and Uncle Roberto were arguing yesterday..”
"Yeah..”
"Do you know the people that he said were talking about you?”
"No..”
"So why were you so angry then, mom?”

Watching the traffic ahead, Ann took a deep breathe and said..

“I wasn't angry dear, your uncle was just getting on my nerves.. I don’t mind people talking about me.. People will mainly talk about you for two reasons, because you're relevant and because their own lives are too boring to discuss, so they'd prefer to discuss yours.”

“I really hate it when people talk about me in school mom..”

“Sara honey, there’s only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”

“But Uncle Roberto wanted you to con.. con..”

“Confront?”

“Yes! Confront.. He wanted you to confront them, didn’t he?”

“Yes.. And that’s why we were arguing. Listen, if a person devotes just ten minutes of their time talking about you.. That’s ten minutes of their world revolving around you.. Ten minutes that they could have spent thinking about bettering their own future.. but you were more important.

So me even discussing it was.. a waste of saliva really!”

Sara giggled at her moms favorite phrase..

Amidst the hustle and bustle of kids alighting from vehicles..
Goodbye kisses..
Clattering lunch boxes..
Ann navigated her Range Rover into the school car park..

She turned to face her daughter..
And cupped her face in her hands..

“If you don’t remember anything about this morning.. Remember this..

Great minds discuss ideas.. average minds discuss events.. and small minds discuss people.
So keep praying those small minds focus on talking about you.. You, my dear, shall focus on becoming great”

“Thanks mom” said Sara..

Leaning in, she quickly kissed her mom goodbye..
And scampered off..

Disappearing into the sea of cackling young girls streaming past the school gates..

Pleasure denied..

2009-05-06T11:01:00.005+01:00

***Appreciate all your comments on my last post.. A bit off my commenting game at the minute.. But I'll make it up to y'all.. Somehow..***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She’d sat up..
Nibbled on her lower lip
And asked me, “Would you mind?”
“Mind what?” I replied, squinting at her...

She glanced round the room..
Curtains drawn..
Clothes strewn across the floor..
Half bottle of red wine.. sweating on the table..
The muted television flickered..
Dimly illuminating the room

“If I tied you up...” she said..

Fifteen minutes later.. there I was..
Hands tied to the bed rails above my head..
Naked..
Watching her as she walked across the room..
Visions of a Sharon Stone in 'Basic Instinct' made me all the more wary..

She clambered on the bed and settled in between my legs..
Her hands trailed along my thighs as she bent down..

She tickled.. she teased.. she circled..
Then.. she descended..
Taking me in her mouth as far as she could..
Her fingers trailing my perineum ever so lightly..
Coming up for air.. she descended again..
And again.. and again..

My hands fought their restraints..
My tongue spoke gibberish..
My knees quivered..
My toes curled..

She knew..
Knowing she had me just where she wanted me..
Seemed to turn her on more..
There I lay.. Seconds away from filling her mouth..

She stopped..
“Wha.. Wha.. What are you doing?” I stuttered..

She sat up..
Her fingers holding me at the base..
Saliva dripping through her fingers..

She waited a few seconds before speaking..

“Calm down dear.. I’m going to sit on top of you now..”

Chinese whispers..!!

2009-05-05T09:20:00.013+01:00

“What’s that..” he asked me

“It’s a phrase that describes how something is heard through word of mouth.. and people distort the original message as it travels from one person to the next...
Almost always is a variation of what was originally said” I replied..

So I gave him an example..

Girl to Boy : “I think racism exists but it sucks when applied to real life.”
Boy to Boy: “Dude, y’know Girl is racist right?! Yeah, she told me herself”

Amusing how stuff like that happens on the regular..

Roc been thinking.. about getting a tattoo..
Emphasis on the word, thinking..

So, I mention it to lil’ sister..
& she mentions it to someone..
& someone mentions it to someone..

Next thing my dad calls me..
“I hear you’ve got a tattoo now.. A huge one”
Amused, I said.. “Nah dad.. it’s just Chinese whispers..”

“What’s that..” he asked me
~~~~~~~~

Anyways, here are a couple of tats I've seen online & been intruiged by..

Tilting towards the last two..
Maybe I should consider an open poll on rocnaija to solicit your opinion..

~~~~~~~~~~

A pretty woman and a beautiful body.. I'm thinking only Angelina can carry off a look like this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lady-scaping .. lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The definition of drinking responsibly..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now this right here, would affirm my love for bloggin'!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two thoughts when I first saw this.. "How long did that take to get done?! & she's got a great mouth"

Not in that specific order, of course..

Have a beautiful week, people!

He said.. She said..

2009-04-29T10:08:00.008+01:00

Semi-long Post Alert.. Click here to read the prequel to this post.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She said, “Lets make this a quickie”..
I smiled, as I watched her take her glasses off & undress..
‘Cause she always said that.. but it never happened..
It was always pulsating.. beautiful.. passionate..
But never quick..

He said, “So you’re the one everyone calls Roc then..”
“Uhm.. depends on what you’ve heard” I replied..
“Loads.. Nice to meet you, I’m Marino”
“Marino? I daresay I’ve heard quite a bit about you” I said, as we shook hands..
He’d just moved into a room in the high-rise staff quarters where I resided on campus..
We chatted for a bit, while I thought to myself "He doesn’t sound half as terrifying as other cult/gang members I knew..”

She said, “Uhmm.. Babyyy.. it’s all yours baby”
As my tongue flicked at her lips..
Not the ones on her face..
But the ones between her hips..
She pushed towards me as I traced lines..
“Please babyyy..” her hands burying my head deeper..

He said, “Fancy seeing you here..”
We’d met seven months ago, said hi whenever we bumped into each other..
But weren’t exactly best friends..
Then we met in ‘A’ Bar on the island.. for some girls birthday..
“Come have some drinks with me & my boys” he hollered over the loud music..
“Yeah why not..” I muttered, as I sauntered over

She said, “Take me nowww baby.. Please take me.. nowww”
She was dripping.. her hands running ragged across my body..
Reaching for the little square packet besides the bed..
I ripped and strapped it on, while she watched..
Her knees parted, as I readied myself over her..
Kissing her lips, I buried myself in her.. to the hilt..
She gasped..

He said, “I’ll bring you car back tomorrow, mine is still at the mechanics”
“No problems” I responded handing the keys to him.. “As long as you fuel it, I’m good”
We’d become friends of sort, as we seemed to frequent the same sort of places..
He had a knack for always needing something I didn’t mind giving out..
Especially condoms.. he always needed condoms.. I always had a stash..

She said, “It’s so.. ahh.. it’s so.. ohh.. babyyy..”
She was ontop.. grinding slowly.. then faster.. then slower..
Her eyes closed.. my hands at her sides.. guiding her..
“Oh yesss.. oh baby.. I’m co..” her words trailed off, as her body shuddered
Her voice.. her sticky wetness.. the look on her face..
Only heightened the sensations coursing through my groin..
Groaning hard.. my seeds found release..
As always, it felt beautiful..
Only this was the first time it was simultaneous..

He said, “You know that girl??”
Walking past, Ini had waved at me, as we slowly navigated the traffic exiting campus..
“Yeah.. we’re classmates..”
“Damn! You need to hook a bruva up.. she looks hawttt!!”
We slowed down, offered her a lift.. she got in.. I made introductions..

She said, or rather she mumbled “That was amazing..”
I glanced at her.. she’d fallen asleep..
She didn’t hear the knock, twenty odd minutes later.. I did..
Bathrobe.. slippers.. I opened the door a notch..
It was Marino.. agitated..
“Thank God you’re in.. Roc abeg.. I need some condoms.. desperately!
Ini is here.. and you know I’ve been on her case for like 3 months now..”
“No worries, hold on a sec..” as I went to get him a couple..

Gust of wind.. Door swung open..
He saw her face.. eyes closed.. shoulders bare..
Bed sheets covering her modesty..
“Susan?!” I heard his voice..
“Oh shit!” I heard her voice...
“Huh? You know him?!” I heard my voice..
His eyes looked like thunder as he stared at me..
“Wrong move, Roc.. you just fucked up.. big time!”
As I watched him storm off.. I got the chills..

Death smiles at us all!

2009-04-24T13:56:00.010+01:00

Been a while since I saw a good film..
At least one worth a mention..
Anyways I've been reminiscing about some of my fave scenes & quotes..
What better to do than put up a post about it..

PS. I know I owe you a post.. or two.. Just lacking motivation at the minute..
PPS. If you’re a movie buff, consider this a movie meme.. I’ll be interested in your take..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Bond
(As Le Chiffre tortures Bond by striking his testicles with a carpet beater.)
Bond: “Now the whole world will know that you died scratching my balls.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Maximus

“I knew a man once who said, "Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back."

~~~~~~~~~~

Captain Jack Sparrow

"Me? I'm dishonest, and a dishonest man.. you can always trust to be dishonest.
Honestly. It's the honest ones you want to watch out for,
because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly stupid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red

“There's not a day goes by I don't feel regret. Not because I'm in here, or because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then: a young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try and talk some sense to him, tell him the way things are. But I can't. That kid's long gone and this old man is all that's left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? It's just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because to tell you the truth, I don't give a shit.”

~~~~~~~~~~

James Bond

Bond: “Who are you?”
Pussy: “My name is Pussy Galore.”
Bond: “I must be dreaming.”
~~~~~~~~~~

Have a great weekend, people!

Like they know me..

2009-04-21T15:34:00.009+01:00

Been a bit overwhelmed with the extra-ordinary goodwill, I’ve received via my blog over the last couple of days..
Comments.. Emails.. Text messages..
Plus a phone call or two.. Just to check up on me..

In the words of Banky W.. “People be luvin’ me, like they know me, mehn..”
Amazing stuff.. I’m truly grateful..

Sadly, I didn’t get to respond to a single comment on my last post..
My apologies to those who came back to read my responses..

I’ll have to call that post, my ~~pure~~ unadulterated post..
‘Cause I didn’t get to adulterate it with my responses..

Gotta give a special mention to every single person that commented though..

Confessions of a London gal, scribble,me.free, blogoratti, Shubby Doo, Zena, Nice Anon, Nefertiti, naija shawty, Tigeress, rethots, Afrobabe, Bibi, bumight, Mocha, mochahourglass, miz-cynic, SouLBoutiQue, Kenn-Knotty, Lady Vixen, Just...Toluwa, BSNC, Dee Brighton, Chi-Chi, kmplx, JustDB, miss.fab, Buttercup, mizchif, joicee, Parakeet, Arewa, Dith, Phat gurl, Repressed One, Original Mgbeke, wordmerchant, Writefreak, Avartsy, Cerberus, Kemberly, Cappuccine Baby, naijagirl, Naked Soul, AnyaPosh

PS.. If you visit rocnaija & you’ve never visited any of the above-listed blogs..
You’re missing in action..
They’re all outstanding bloggers in their own right!

PPS. Please crosscheck your name is on my blogspiration roll.. If it isn't holla @ the Roc..
PPPS. Yes! The bold links are for aesthetic reasons only..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mom breezed into town yesterday..
Beautiful woman..
But the first thing I’d noticed about her, as she walked towards me in Heathrow Terminal 5..
Was her dentition had changed..

You know those two little front-facing teeth?
Right in the middle, behind the lower lip?
Yeah.. those ones..

Hers overlapped a bit..
I grew up seeing that.. I was used to it..
And I still thought she was beautiful..

“What have you done to your teeth??” I asked her, catching her off guard...

She had been to a dentist and filed it out..
Or rearranged it.. or whatever those guys do..

“Don’t you like it?” she asked in return..
“It’s looks nice.. as long as you made the decision to do it yourself..” I said..

Then she mentioned my dad’s sis, her sister-in-law, had made a derogatory comment some weeks back..
So she went and got it fixed..

Now that riled me..
Not because people said stuff.. but because it hurt her enough to want to change because of them..

I pretty much scolded her..
Along the lines "If she said you were too dark, would you bathe in bleach? Or if she sad you're hair was too long, would you shave it off??"

But still, it got me thinking..

The reason people talk behind your back.. is because your ahead of them.. Two steps ahead , for good measure..
No one should be allowed to determine your worth.. or your person.. or your destiny..

At the end of the day you'll feel a million times better, if you went about your day knowing that..
You and you alone made every decision for yourself..
And not conforming to people's opinion and how others want you to be.

Remain blessed, beautiful people!

It’s the Roc!!

Click.. And she needs advice...

2009-04-18T08:42:00.005+01:00

The last couple of days have been hard and stressful..
I've felt depressed, down-in-the-dumps, despondent, sad..
But.. I am he.. & he is I..
So blog.. I will..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I should have guessed there was more when my phone first rang..

"So guess what?" she said
"You know I'm never good at guessing babe.."
"I left, Roc"
"Left? What do you mean you left?"
"I packed some underwear.. Change of clothes.. And I walked."
"Jeez girl! You've only been married a year plus.. Jeez!! Wanna tell me what happened?"
"I walked in on him humping a woman in our matrimonial home. As if that wasn't enough, it was someone he had claimed was a 'family friend' in the past & I had even served drinks in the past while she waited for him!"
”Damn. Did you..? Did she..?”
”She had the guts.. pscheeww! Trust me, If I had a gun I'd have shot her.“

"Meeeennn.."

"I was hurt but didn't say much.. I locked myself in a room.. He tried talking and pleading through the door.. It must have annoyed him that I wasn't responding, so he broke the door down.."

"He did what???"

"I was so scared.. He literally took the door off it's hinges."
"That's some crazy sh.."
"I've got like twenty bottles of perfumes, Roc. He broke everything...
He just smashed them against the wall one at a time."
”Why would he do that though? What's that got to do with anything?"
”I dunno Roc.. I left at the first opportunity. I'm getting a place. Paid for it today.”
”Fo’real? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? Cos they’ll tie you into like a two year contract thing.. Won’t they? Didn’t you tell anyone? His family? Yours?”

“I can’t afford to furnish it or anything, I’ll just put a bed down in a room & take one day at a time. His uncle has been trying to mediate and he’s been trying to apologise.. Thing is though, he always apologises but then goes on to pull the same stunt all over again.. I’m just tired”

“You guys considered counselling?”

“Yeah we’ve been to a couple of sessions.. Last week, he actually said he’s been acting that way because I dated one particular guy before I married him”

“That’s ridiculous.. you didn’t marry that guy.. you married him..”

“That’s what the counsellor said as well.. I’m just so confused, Roc… What should I do??”

“First instinct? I’d say pray.. but honestly...”

“Listen Roc… my credit is finished.. I’ll buzz you later or call me.. Hopefully you’ll be able to advice me th..”

**Click**

Some sort of Jezebel..

2009-04-15T00:09:00.006+01:00

The plan was to finish my, got-thrashed-for-a-woman, story..
But something came up..
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My phone beeped.. Text message..
"U are crazy, Roc! Crazy!! Crazy!!"

Huh?
Lagos digits..
Not a number I knew..
Didn't reply..

Five minutes later..
My mobile phone rang..
Kanye West ringtone blaring
"Ha! Ha!! You can't tell me nothing! Ha! Ha!! You can't tell me.."
I picked..

"Hello?"
"Roc? You're crazy, y'kno! Absolutely mental! U know that?"
Recognizing the voice, I smiled, "Well.. I usually expect to hear good morning first but if the yabs work for you, it's all good.."
She chuckled.. "You're mad.."

We both laughed..
It was my friend.

(if you don't remember her, click here to get re-acquainted)

"Hmm.. Roc.. I read your blog.." She said
"Ok.. And.. What did you think?"
"I saw the post.. I know you asked my permission to tell it and all, but if I had known you'd go into that much detail, I'd have said no.."
"Really? Why's that? Something I said?"
"No, not you really.. You pretty much said all there was to say.. A bit too in-depth, but I didn't mind.. It's some of the comments people left that seemed out of order.."
"Uhm.. So which ones got to you?"
"I can't remember sef, some just seemed a bit uncalled for. Like I was some sort of Jezebel"
"Nah.. The thing, you need to remember, is that no one knows you personally like I do.. My respect for you as a woman and as a friend, won’t change because of a few comments”

“And my real picture as well, Roc?”

“That was spontaneous.. you know me now.. want me to take it down?”

“Nah.. it’s cool.. I really don’t care. Anyways, me & you have… Wait.. Hold on one sec..”

Seconds pass..

"Sweetheart I'll call you back, we have gist, need to talk to you but I'm going to see a customer now.."

"Ok no worries, talk later then.."

Four hours later, my phone rang..

She said.. “Guess what?”

Another “Who? Me?” moment..

2009-04-09T01:05:00.007+01:00

Have you ever wanted to say something..
But the words failed you?
Like you open your mouth and all you do is stutter stutter..

These fingers I own, would normally be darting across my keyboard..
Today, however, they hover..
Once again, I’m rendered speechless and humbled at the same time..

A rare feat, I tell you!

My first, “Who..? Me..?” moment..
Happened when I won the award for Newbie Blogger of the Year at the Naija Bloggers Awards..

The second one..
Happened in the wee hours of this morning..

Earlier today, Kemberly uploaded a ~~vlog~~ video blog..
And guess what?
Your boy, Rocnaija, got a two minute mention!

Just in case you can't view the video at work or sumthin'..
Here's a snip of what she said..

"...If you go on his blog and read his entries.. I think it's just genius.. Like
he's so good with words and he's so descriptive that you feel like you're
actually there with him..."

Click here to view the full clip on Kemberly's Blog..
..Or on Youtube.com

I know.. I know..
For a 'speechless' blogger..
This is turning into a longgg tin' :-D

Stay blessed, beautiful people!!

Tonight's the night..

2009-04-08T12:23:00.002+01:00

"Who???!"

He slapped me... Hard!

"Wrong answer", The voice said..
"Once again Roc.. How long have you been fukkin' her?"

I must have kept quiet for too long..
Cause all I heard was the rush of wind at my cheek..

SMACK!! SMACK!!

My ears were ringing..
Tears welled up in my eyes, underneath the blindfold..
My wrists strained against the unseen ropes tying them behind my back..
My knees bled from kneeling on, what felt like, shards of glass..
My mind went to the number of students murdered in the six weeks preceding that night..
All within University campus grounds..
All in cult/gang related incidents..
14 and counting..
Decapitated.. Stabbed.. Shot.. Maimed..
Was I about to become another statistic?

In middle of God-knows-where..
Surrounded by machete-weilding, high-on-something, gunpowder-smelling burly men..

Was tonight the night, I'd make those dreaded introductions?
"Roc.. meet your Maker.."
"Maker.. meet roc.."

A chill traversed my spine

They call me Rocky not Rambo..

I begged..
"Please.. I don't know who.. Pleaseee.."

"I said how long have you been sleeping with...
..Pscheeww, Oya! Take his blindfolds off!" The voice commanded..

Shuffle of feet..
Hands on shoulders held me down..
Blindfold came off..

I blinked furiously as my eyes adjusted..
I stammered in shock.. As the face to the voice came into focus..

"Mar.. Ma.. Marino..???!"

Lonely..

2009-04-07T10:21:00.003+01:00

It’s so lonely at the bottom.. Lonely down below..
When the only words you hear is, "All you reap, is what you sow"
Nobody hears.. Nobody cares.. and fatigue remains a foe
But you stay believing from the start..
Believing in your art.. Belief is in your heart..
And when they try to change your mind
All alone you climb..

It’s so lonely at the middle.. Lonely as you run..
People who used to love you, now don’t even show concern..
This is when you learn.. You're only judged by what you earn..
Your hands keep reaching … your eyes is on the sun..
It’s lonely when you injure yourself and you need a heal..
It’s lonely when you’re hungry and you need a meal..
And all alone you continue still..

It’s so lonely at the top.. it’s lonely at the peak..
You’re one amongst many.. You’re already unique..
Exquisitely tailored clothes.. and expensive lands..
It’s lonely in your palace.. Lonely in your Benz..
If this is what ends means.. then what means ends?

Loneliness seems to me..
The one true companion I’ve had.. & I agree..
It’s lonely when you trying to grow..
And even when you’re grown..
You discover that you’re still alone..

It’s so lonely..

- Inspired by Illegal Music.. Lonely

Exotic memories for two..

2009-04-03T15:59:00.004+01:00

I'd once given her a Notorious BIG CD..
She had it on blast as I approached..
Paper bag in hand, I knocked..

Bobbing my head to the beat..
I mimed along, as the lyrics seeped through her door..
"When it comes to sex.. I'm similar to tha 'Thriller in Manila/
Honey's call me Roc~kie.. The condom filler.."

Silhouette moved in the spyhole..
The door creaked open..
And there she was..
No makeup.. White bathrobe.. Barefeet..
Beauty personified..

She smiled.. "Hey Roc.. You came.."
"Roc always comes.." I said in return, "I just don't come first"
She rolled her eyes, giggling.. "Roc!!"
"Whattt?!" I joked, bending forward to give her a peck..

Y'know.. The 'mwah-mwah-kiss-the-air-on-both-cheeks' type..
Her head moved..
Lip contact..

She pulled me in, by the neck of my polo shirt..
Right foot kicking the door shut behind me..
We stood in the hallway.. Ten? Fifteen minutes?
I lost track of time, as my lips never left hers..
It was soft.. It was slow.. It was sensual..

"Uhmm.. You're good!" she murmured against my lips.. "That felt niceeee"
"You're better than I'd imagined" I murmured back
"You imagined?" raising an eyebrow at me.
"From the minute I watched your lips swear at me on a wet platform.."

She punched my chest playfully, reaching for the bag I held..
"Change the music.. I'll get the bath ready", she said, walking away..

I hit the eject button and swapped cd's..
Joe's smooth voice replaced the ferocious one..
"I wanna know.. I wanna know what turns you onnn..."
I left Joe to it.. as I sauntered into the bathroom.

There were candles alight everywhere..
Her bathrobe and lingerie lay on the enclosed toilet seat
Eyes closed, she was submerged in a swath of white bubbles..

I literally smashed the world record..
For undressing and jumping in a bathtub..

"Uhmm" she sighed, as she nestled between my legs.. "Is that a soap bar or are you just happy to see me?"
Laughter, as my hands slid across her slippery body..
Her shoulders.. Her collar bone.. Her neck.. Her spine.. Her underarms..
My hands explored crevices unknown..
For an hour and some..

"You're giving me some memories, Roc.."
"Exotic memories.. For two.." I murmured.
"I feel like I could stay here.. forever"
"Me too but..." I said, standing up, "the water's gone cold"

I lifted her out..
Carried her into the bedroom..
Water droplets trailed in my wake..

She put a towel on the bed..
Then lay, chest down.. Feet apart..
Knuckles entwined.. Her cheek resting on the back of her hands..
I knelt between her legs.. Massage bottle in hand..

"You ready, bunny?" I asked
"Roc.." she said quietly..
"Yeah?"
"You know in restaurants, you get a three course meal, right?"
"Yeah??"
"Like if the bubble bath was for starters, and the massage, dessert.. Can I just have the main course?"
"Of course you can!" Smiling as I dropped the bottle.. I said my prayers..

"Bless this food.."
I tasted her toes.. Her ankles.. Her calf muscles..

"Oh Lord.."
I licked the back of her knees.. Her inner thighs.. The beauty spot under her bum..

"For Chris..."
Her phone rang..

She glanced at the caller id..
And propped up on her elbows..
"Oh sheezz! It's my fiance!"
"Your what?!" I said incredulously
"Shhhh!!!" she smiled, putting a finger to her lips, as she picked it..

"Hello love"

I smiled back, as my mind hatched naughty thoughts...
Listening to her struggle to discharge him, I bent back down..

My tongue retraced lines along her inner thighs..
Her bum perked & twitched as my nose parted the line in between..
Nudging my tongue further and further..
Into her dark moistened abyss..

When less is more..

2009-04-01T20:41:00.000+01:00

Shoutout to all the new commenters on rocNaija via my last post..
Appreciate the luv!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Was on the phone with one of my fave people yesterday.. Odun'
And we were having this conversation..

".. That's because people expect to read it on your blog” she said..
& I said, "that's not true because not all my posts are sex-related..”
"Listen Roc," she said, "for every ten posts u make, seven are about sexing.. "
"I disagree, because for every six post I put up, three might be about something else.. But the sex related ones, I have to split up cause they'll be too long. So they can't count as individual posts.. "
She laughed.. “Yeah right..!"

The conversation continued, as I drove to Kay's house..
Kay is my ps3/xboxing buddy..
So I'm like "Odun I'll ring you back, need to call Kay.. "

I dialed.. He picked..

Roc: 'Sup Kay, on my way to yours, you home?
Kay: I'm at the grocery store, but Lilly is home..
Roc: Oh.. Should I meet up with you at the store then?
Kay: Nah.. I'll call her to tell her you're coming, start warming up on the xbox till I get back..
Roc: Alright, later bro..

So I get to his place, Lilly, his girlfriend, lets me in..
She's wearing one of those t-shirts that hang loose at the neck exposing a shoulder.. and hotpants..
Girlfriend's got legs for dayssss..
I'd only ever seen her in jeans and such whenever my friend’s around..

So I'm sitting there, xbox controls in hand..
Thinking to myself.. "This ain't right, especially since you knew a guest was coming.."
She's prancing around, going, "D’you want a drink, Roc?" "Looks like you been real busy at work?" ""
Trying to make conversation..

Maybe I'm suddenly becoming a prude or something but all I kept thinking was...
"Woman please put some clothes on.."
Sometimes less is much more than I need to see.

I don't think I'd fancy my woman walking around a house guest in such ~~titilating~~ delicious outfits (as Temite would say) when I’m not around..
It’s cool if I am and I haven’t got a problem with it..

But on the flip side, she's in her house, plus women liberation and all that...
So she can dress anyway she likes, right?
I dunno.. What d'you think?!

--- Sent from Nokia E71 mobile messaging device

Candles.. Bubbles.. & Massages..!

2009-03-31T02:37:00.002+01:00

"I'm bored".. The text read..
I clicked 'call sender'
She picked on the second ring..
"Hello Bunny"

I'd known her for five months..
We'd always had a 'ask-me-no-questions-I'll-tell-u-no-lies' kind of relationship..
I didn't know if she had a man.. She never asked if I was single..

First saw her on a wet platform at Waterloo station..
Trains were delayed.. I was late for work..
She was wearing a night nurse uniform.. Tiredness etched across her face..

She walked.. I watched.. & watched.. & watched..
A Weapon of Mass Distraction, her body was.

Glancing at me as she walked past..
She hissed.. "What you fukkin' staring at?!"
I smiled inwardly..
Black woman = Drama.. But I luv 'em still..
Picking up my near-empty rucksack.. I walked after her..

"You're in a bad mood then..", I said
"Good guess, Einstein..", she deadpanned
I laughed, "Trust me.. if I was any good at guessing, I'd play the lotteries every week rather than stand on a wet windy platform.."
Her forehead creased as she smiled.."I could do with that right now, to be honest.."

We stood chatting for fifteen odd minutes, till the train pulled in..
"You do know I'm gonna ask for your number, right?" I said, as her blue contacts moved from the train, to me & back to the train..
"Uhm.. Gimme yours instead, I'll text you..", she replied..

Her first text came through the next night..

Five months later.. She's bored..

"Hello?"
"Any ideas Roc..? I'm so bored right now, it's unbelievable..?"
"Wanna come round so we can catch some DVD's?!"
"You're probably not aware but, you drive and I don't.." came her sarcastic response..
"Okayyy.. Want me to come round then..? Spice up your day?"
"Funny! As if that would make a difference.."
"It just might.. I'll bring a bottle of wine..
Pop in a Joe CD.. Light some candles..
Run you a warm scented bath.. Slip in behind you..
Y'know.. Wash your back while you sit between my legs.."

I paused..
Silence..
I could hear her breathe..

"And if you've got some massage oil..
I might even show you that asian rubdown I always talked about.."

More silence..

"You there?"
"Yeah.. uhm.. yeah I'm here.. so.. You wanna.. uhmm.. Wanna come.. Over?
"Only if you want me to.."
"Yeah Roc.. Yeah, see you in a bit.. OK?

Call ended.. Call time 00:12:53..

I changed.. Got car keys..
Phone beeped as I strapped my seat belt on..
Text was from her..

"Can u stop off to get some bubble bath soap on ur way? xoxo"

I nudged the gear into Drive, and accelerated..

...................TBC

All drinks is on the house!!

2009-03-27T14:28:00.005Z

*Walks in humming*

"That Roc boy is in the building tonight..
..You don't even have to bring your purses out..
It's that dope boy of the year..
Drinks is on the house.."
~~~~~~~~~

Y'all have overdone it this time..
Or better yet y'all done did it this time.. lol..

In case you don't know..

RocNaija won 'Newbie blogger of the Year'
At the Naija Bloggers Awards.. (Click here to view list)

Damn..!

That's like winning 'Rookie of the Year', first season in the NBA..
I feel like Michael Jordan in his prime..

Like a young Maradona..

Like.. Ok.. Ok.. I'll stop.. but still..

Feels real good to be celebrated & not just tolerated though..
More so, considering I didn't even have an inkling I was nominated..

Regular visitors to this blog will know..
I never mentioned the NBA's..
Or solicited for votes..
As I'd figured I had a ’sell-sand-in-desert’ chance of a nomination..
Much less even winning..

But YOU deemed me worthy..
And for that I am truly humbled..

Thanks to everyone that voted…

And special shout out to ConfessionsLG, BSNG & GNG.. For the heads up..
Appreciate it ladies..!

And still I rise..

2009-03-26T16:09:00.000Z

Turn the music up.. Turn the lights down..
I’m in my zone..
Thank God for granting me..
This moment of clarity..
This moment of honesty..
..Listen closer & you’ll hear what I’m about..

In the words of Shawn Carter..
Feel my truths..

ON RELIGION..
I am a cynic about nearly everything..
I've been to more churches in my life than my number of years on earth..
I've sat to watch wrinkly old men claim to read the future, in the dimly lit shanty huts..
I know verses of the Holy Qua'ran offhand..
I know more verses of the Holy Bible offhand..
I've studied books on.. 'alternative' religions. Until mom got on both knees to beg me.. "Never ever.." she pleaded..
I still can't fathom why people kill themselves to be with 70 virgins in Paradise..?! If I had to go out like that, someone better guarantee 70 ~~prostitutes~~ horny women and a limitless supply of Viagra!

ON SEX..
I stopped counting how many women I'd been intimate with at the age 20..
..But I know how many women I've made love to.
I never keep in touch with ex's I truly cared about..
I don't enjoy sex that much.. Not as much as I enjoy seeing shudders rack a woman's body, as she reaches that peak, and tips over. It's a beautiful thing.
I should do a separate post for sex issues.. whachamicallit? Sex on the Roc’s?! OR Sex does Roc?!.. Or maybe not..

ON GROWING UP & LIFE..
I once slept through an armed robbery at my abode.. Woke up to see bullet shells and machetes outside my bedroom window..
I'm paranoid about getting stabbed on a train..
I hid a forehead injury from my parents for a month by tying a bandana/headscarf and claiming “It's in vogue”
I've had my heart stolen a few times but I've never been robbed..
I've never had an vehicle accident.. But I've been knocked down a few times in this unique journey called life..

And still I rise..

--- Sent with Nokia E71 mobile messaging service

The Chronicles of a Cunning Linguist... 101

2009-03-23T01:36:00.000Z

My left hand gripped her blonde hair
As my pelvis slammed into the back of her thighs..
Repeatedly.. Steadily.. Unwavering..

My eyes travelled south..

Past the huge butterfly tattoo on her lower back..
Past the crack..
Past the darkness..

To where my taut rubberized blackness..
Met her white skinned wetness..

I chuckled to myself..
"I thought I was racist before this”

She didn't seem to care about carpet burns..
As her fingernails clawed at my wallpaper
She spoke in tongues unknown..
Hungarian.. Greek.. Spanish..

She whimpered..
She screamed..
She moaned..
She cooed..

"Ohhhh I like.. Ooooh...
Sooo black.. Sooo strong..
Ohh.. Yes! Yes!
Oooo! Right there...
Mmmm.. Yes baby, Don't stop...
DON'T STOPPPP!!!”

And that very hour..
At the very minute..
At that very second..
At that very moment in time..

I stopped..

I'd pulled a hamstring muscle..

She crumbled.. wailing..
"Noooo!!!"

As she ripped a hole in my wallpaper..

Silly girl.

A big booty squeezer..

2009-03-20T02:22:00.000Z

I'm a girl pleaser../Big booty squeezer..
Teaser../ Looking for a diva../ for sheeza../
All you need is a geezer../
Cool as a freezer.../ rules like a Ceaser../

Laptop speakers aren't the best for music.. but they suffice,
As I listen to.. one of my fave tracks off MI's album..

My fingers hover the keyboard. What's to be typed..? I ponder..

Randomness..

Have I ever mentioned that I’m really fascinated by the kind of man Jesus was…?
Just intrigued with the way he hugely influenced people he came into contact with..

The good book says somewhere that..
“.. they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated and untrained men, they marveled. And they realized that they had been with Jesus.”

By effect they became successes by affiliation...

I’m like.. what level do I need to get to.. that just mentioning my name will make people marvel..?!
That you’d walk into an interview.. mention rocNaija.. and they’ll say “no need for an interview you already have the job”

Despite the fact that His ministry was a success.. He chose to help people by taking them along on His journey..
So as things subsequently worked for Him, it worked for people affiliated with Him..

I’ve learnt that to truly be a success.. your personal priority should be helping others succeed..
This Zig Ziglar quote has stuck with me over the years..
“You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help other people get what they want.”

Everyday I wake up looking to help someone achieve their dreams..

Cos I know..

As I help others to succeed, my own dreams will come to pass..

I turn like doorknobs...

2009-03-18T23:40:00.000Z

I believe kissing is an art.. So I only do it slowly..
But she seemed in a hurry..
Her teeth clashed against mine ceaselessly
Another pet peeve..

I pulled back, slowing her down..
My left hand cupped her cheek..
Then, light as a feather..
I kissed her forehead..
Her eyebrows..
Her eyelids..
The bridge of her nose..
Her cheeks..
Her earlobes..
My tongue traced wet lines..
From her gold stud to the base of her neck..

Her knees buckled..
We hit the floor in seconds..

My head went lower.. Slowly..

Her little perk ones spread apart..
The way only natural ones do
My fingers twirled their peaks..
As I tasted the line where breasts meet torso..

She shuddered..
"You cold?" I murmured
"No!" She said hoarsely.. "Please.."
Nudging my shoulders south..
Her acrylic nails grasping at my hair follicles..

My lips traced the outline of her rib cage..
One.. by.. one..
She arched towards me..

One hand slipped behind her lower back..
As my fingers descended..

Past her navel.. Past her waist..
Past her brazilian strip..
Burying itself deep between her hips..
I touched her spot..

She gasped..

And just then.. I caught a whiff..
I gagged.. cos this time..
'twas stronger than it had been all day..
It was acrid.. It was horrible.. It was..

I aimed my fingers for her nostrils..
A one way ticket from cloud nine..
She slapped my hand away, eyes opening wide..
"What the fu.." She stopped..
Blinking
Her eyes adjusting to the light, as she saw me stand up..

"Where's your bathroom?"
She pointed..

Hot water.. Handwash..
I glanced in the mirror..

She was in the doorway behind me..
"Baby.. It's probably this new soap I'm using.."

I dried my hands and walked past her..

"Baby, We can do other stuff.. Y'kno.. We can just.. Baby please.."

I grabbed my jacket.. car keys..
Walked towards the front door..

"Don't you dare leave me like this, Roc, don't you even da.."

Reaching for the door handle..
I glanced back at her..

"Chichi.. I've already left.."
I shut the door behind me..

As I bounded down the stairs..
BIG's words in the song 'one more chance' came to mind..

..Except it smells like sanitation/
..garbage.. I turn like door knobs/

Ended up watching Maximus on DVD..

With nothing but a t-shirt on..

2009-03-17T00:20:00.000Z

Took a cursory look round as I stepped into her room..
Something smelt odd..
She was sitting edge of the bed..
Back to the window.. With the curtains drawn..
A shaded table lamp was on..

Taking my jacket off, I asked..
"So is this how you normally greet your male visitors then? With nothing but your.."
"Of course not." she retorted..
Lowering her voice.. "You know when we were talking.."
"Online?" I asked
"Yeah.. You were.. You've been messing with my head.. making me feel all..."
"Frisky?" I ventured another word.
"Tingly.." She said as she stood up, "And I've not felt that in a while.."

"So tell me," she said, walking towards me, "why do they call you Roc then..?"

I squinted at her in the dim light, as I said..

"Means different things to different people..
Depends on who u ask..
My family say every time a situation knocks me down, I bounce back like Rocky..
My friends say I'm as dependable as a Rock..
And my ex's say I'm as hard a..."

She giggled, coming to a halt in front of me..

"What's funny?"
"Sade talked about you a lot.." She replied
"Don't believe everything you hear.."
"Uhm.." she whispered.. "There's only one way to find out.."

Our lips met..

But still...

...TBC

Some say sex is overrated...

2009-03-16T09:46:00.000Z

"...But they just ain't doing it right"

Jamie Foxx & Luda’ crooned from my speakers as I drove over Tower bridge to her place..

'twas funny how we met..

"Excuse me.. Excuse me..” She said, accosting me on the high street, “Sorry but is your name Roc, by any chance?”
"Depends on who's asking,” I said smiling.
"You don't know me but you used to come see a girl, Sade, in my room back then in University.”
"Oh Yeah!,” I said feigning recollection, “I sure would have remembered you though.. definitely..”
She giggled, “I didn't look like this back then.. I've filled out a bit since.”
"Hmm.. Interesting.. So what's your name?”
"Chichi.. I heard loads about you from Sade back then..”
"Did you now? Good stuff or bad?” I asked warily
"Oh all good stuff, ” she coyly responded
"Wasn't me then.. Trust me..” I joked..
She laughed..
We exchanged numbers..

Thus.. it begun…
The marathon text sessions..
Messages on Yahoo & msn..

It was fun.. & flirty..
Like a moth to a flame..

A week & a weekend later..
My phone beeped.. Text message..

Hey Roc, you got plans this evening?
Sup babe.. I'm free, just the ps3 for company.. What's up?
Bored stiff.. flatmate's gone b'ham for the wknd. Wondering if we could do something..
Something like? A Movie? Been meaning to see 'The Gladiator', heard Russell Crowe was good.
Me too.. See you in a bit?
Sounds like a plan.. Ttyl8r

As I stopped at the traffic lights..
I tapped my pockets..

Bank card... Check
Mobile phone... Check
Rubber in wallet... Check

I parked outside her block of flats..
She buzzed me in..
Third floor..

Opted for the stairs.. I hate the lifts in those apartment blocks..

I knocked..
Her door creaked open..

"What's up chi..” I stuttered as I saw her..

She wore a black ‘lasenza’ chemise top...
It stopped just below her waist..
It was transparent..

Capisce.. Se fini.. Finito..

Absolute starkers underneath

"Hey…” she replied, turning and walking slowly into the only room with a light on..

Watching her bum cheeks peek at me, as I shut the door..

I swear I could Maximus' voice in my subconscious..

"Are you not entertained?”

Pet Peeves - Honorary mention!

2009-03-15T08:39:00.000Z

So you probably know I like MI right?

If you haven't heard any tracks off his ~~not so~~ new album
And you're into that sort of music..

Holla at moi, I'll put up a couple of links for you.

Anyways I'm listening to a track off his recent free mixtape..
And re-reading the comments on my last post.

I can't stop cracking up!! Hilarious stuff..

I just had to do a honorary mention of the responses I found the funniest..

Shout out to everyone who took the time to post a comment.
This isn’t belittling your comments in anyway!
Roc appreciates it..

P.S. You don't have to, if you don’t want to, comment on this as it's not a sequel or anything..
Except of course if you've remembered some more ;-)

Homegirl took the peach for me. Pretty much everything she said got my laughter juices flowing. It don't take much to turn Temite into a one ~~man~~ woman killing machine.

Rumours have it that the toothpaste thing is the second highest reason for divorce.. The first being not putting the toilet seat down..

Word of advice for my bruvas... If you want to have a long lasting married life!

Make sure you keep seperate bathrooms!!

For some reason, I could just picture the front page of the londonpaper with a hell-raising headline..

"News vendor clobbered to death by mug-weilding woman"

And a picture of Miss Vixen in six-inch heels standing over the poor bloke...

Priceless!

I once heard a story about a pot and a kettle once.... :-)

This made me wonder if I had sadistic tendencies..

'Cos I could picture 'kitten in a buka in Lagos somewhere surrounded by a dozen men all making the same noise...

I could sooo relate to this..

In the old days I was curious if people that did this didn't know..

Now I just avoid them.

This is just so typical of my African brethren..

And you're expected to be ecstatic to see them as well..!

Another one-man killing machine in the making..

Great stuff people..! Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

So what ticks you off?!

2009-03-14T10:38:00.000Z

According to Wikipedia ~~ A pet peeve is a ~~minor~~ annoyance that can instil great frustration in a very small group of people, yet is experienced by everyone. It also must be insignificant, so a person insulting you is not a pet peeve. It meets all three criteria if: insignificant, experienced by all, and only you and a few others are annoyed by it.

So I’m guessing everyone has at least one thing that just ticks you off…
That makes you scream silently in your head..
And is so inconsequential in the scheme of things…

Oh! And you do know you’re tagged right?! Lets go there..

Used cups and wrappers left inches away from a bin - I mean like how hard can it be? Really?!
Bad Parking - Some drivers just can’t be bothered to make an effort.. When I drive to the any shopping district I always look to park where there aren’t any cars on either side. But the gods of humour always seem to have a gag in store for me, so I expect to see cars flanking me when I get back.. and their tyres encroaching ‘my space’

Radio deejays talking while a song is playing. – This really really really annoys me!! I don’t know why but I so hate to hear a deejays voice while I’m singin’ along to a tune in the car.

People getting in my way - If I’m walking along the road or a wide open field. As long as there’s someone walking towards me, we’d always get in each others way, without fail. This then leads to the frustrating routine of moving left & right repeatedly uttering “Beg your pardon” “Excuse me” “Oh I’m sorry”.

It happens to me so often now that when I see the other person walking towards me in the distance, I sometimes avoid it by just crossing the road.. other times I just sigh and prepare to dance.

Know any ghostbusters? Gimme a ring!!

2009-03-13T17:05:00.000Z

Appreciate the huge feedback, on that thin line post I did recently..
Amazing stuff..

I failed physics the first time I tried..
And even though I hit a home run on my second attempt..
I still wasn't a fan..

Danny B's recent post brought back a few memories..
Of Akoka..
Of hard graft in dimly lit classrooms.
Of those laws..
Gravity.. Newton.. Aerodynamics..

Only now I understand things differently..

I now understand that we live in a world controlled by laws..
And that there’s a huge amount of power under each law..
So by effect when you obey a law, you tap into the power within that law to achieve your goal…

Geddit?! Ok lemme break it down..

If your goal is to sky-dive.. the 'law of gravity' will help you achieve that goal..
If your goal is to travel from Lagos to LA... the 'law of aerodynamics' will help achieve it..
If your goal is to kick a stationary ball.. The 'laws of motion' come into play..

In the same vein, there are laws that govern success..

You see where I’m going with this don’t you?

Wordmerchant said “success is an idea put into action”.. I agree.
And to have an idea.. you must have a goal.. a vision.. a dream..

Recently a friend asked me “when you were little, what did you want to grow up to be?”
I said.. “The President.. but Barack Obama beat me to it..”
A typical example of a dream tempered by time.. (plus he’s more goodlooking :-))

Some dreams, however, get tempered by stuff from a person's past..
But no one can move forward by looking in their rear-view mirror..

The key is to get rid of those shackles and dream again..
The key is to not use past failures as a blueprint for the future..
The key is knowing that the dreams of today are the realities of tomorrow..

A scene from the movie, Robots, that stuck with me, was when Rodney’s dad said… “The dream you don’t fight for can haunt you for the rest of your life.”

I’m still fighting a few ghosts..

Know any ghostbusters?

Three bad things I'm really really good at!!

2009-03-12T02:48:00.000Z

Ok, so it’s dawned on me..

That there are a couple of bad things I have an uncanny ability to do well…
I'm talented like that..

*Warning*

I’m tagging everyone who decides to read this post, you’ll also have to name, one bad thing you’re really good at, in the comments..

If not... uhm.. read anyways :)

So these are my confessions..

~~~~Remembering surnames of ex's

I gotta admit I'm really good at not remembering surnames of ex's.

My excuse back then was that, "the plan was to give her my surname in the first place, so there was no need to remember hers."

Well.. Up until this conversation ensued on a flight, when I bumped into an ex..
And I'd forgotten her first name..
"what's your name again sorry?"
"well considering we only dated for two years, I wouldn't expect you to remember" she replied sweetly.

So as a sharp lasgidi boy, I have since adopted a new mantra..

First chance I get, I ask.."So, you're now Mrs. what..?"
She'll either go, "Oh! I'm Mrs blah blah blah.."
Or say "I'm not married yet I'm still Miss blah blah blah.."

Works everytime..

~~~~I'm exceptionally good at bad driving

Before you enter my car say a prayer. .
Not that I've ever had an accident thankfully and no that time I scratched a car while browsing the internet can't count.
But I'm just admittedly a bad driver..
I cut corners at speed..
Run red lights..
Undertake cars at will..
Text often..
Brake suddenly.. The list goes on and on..

The ironic thing is.. I calm down when it's not just me in a vehicle..
But still I hear the words.. "Heyyyy Rocccc slowww downnnn!!!"

~~~~And last but not..

I'm a bad CCL.. or should I say I'm a good CCl..?!
Dunno..
Can't think of the right word to use as a prefix..

You know what that a CCL means right..?

D'oh!

A Certified Cunning Linguist.
My cunning tongue speaks a few languages.. ;-)

*So go on then.. it's your turn!*

Success.. A thin line!

2009-03-09T11:45:00.000Z

I remember youth service in Katsina.. a state in the northern parts of Naija..
it was hot.. it was different.. it was fun.
Might get around to blogging about it one day..

Anyways one thing that always struck me was their fascination with Honda vehicles..
Sayin’ three out of every five was a honda is no exaggeration..

Then recently I read the autobiography of Soichiro Honda..
The founder of the Honda motor company.

He said, “when I started manufacturing motorcycles, prophets of doom who were at that time my best friends came to discourage me. Why don’t you simply set up a garage? You will rake in lots of money they said; there are lots of cars to repair all over the country.”
“I didn’t listen to their pessimistic advice” Honda said, “So, beside my research laboratory I started up the Honda Company on September 24 1948”…
The rest, as they say.. is history..

It’s striking that....
when push comes to shove, you alone are solely responsible for your success or failure..
not what your friends think..

As humans we’re influenced by our thoughts.. our emotions.. our actions..
Our thoughts maybe positive or negative.. our emotions maybe positive or negative.. our actions maybe positive or negative..
Ultimately, it’s our thoughts.. emotions.. and actions.. that make that line so thin..

I been told I smile too much.. I always say it’s because of how I view my 'cup'.
Is yours.. “half full or half empty”

Jose Mourinho, the ex-Chelsea manager once said “Human beings are victims of habit.. Positivity and optimism breed success..”

One year later they won their first trophy in 50 years..

Ask Anini about stealing?!

2009-03-07T08:04:00.000Z

*I just noticed quite a few people graciously have me on their blogRoll but it doesn't update..
Please try adding this link instead.. http://www.rocnaija.com/feeds/posts/default
And let me know how you get on.
Appreciate it!*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The phone crackled..
Lagos to London
Thirty minutes and ticking..

The calls had been regular for the last month..

"So i'll just get a schengen & we can meet up in Paris.. You know.. Get a room together.. It'll be fun" she urged me.

"But you know we can't do that babes.." I said

"Trust me Roc.. we'll stay in bed all week.. Order room service..." Her voice went on..

I was hearing but stopped listening..

*We first met in '97..*
In Unilag
She was walking from Moremi hall to class..

Size 8 waist.. Size 10 hips.. 34bees..
short curly hair dyed blonde..

I fancied her.. Been looking out for her.. Accosted her..

She liked my smile.. We became friends..
And got closer.. And closer..

But I never touched her.

Once, alone in my crib..
On the couch.. Watching TV

She asked..
"How come you've never tried touching me before.. Or at least kissing me?"

Lifting her silk top.. she exposed her navel..

"Touch me right here.. now" pointing to her belly button..

I smiled..
Cracked a joke..
But I never touched her..

*Fast forward.. 2003*

Victoria island
Me? A banker.. With STB..
She? with the French embassy..

We meet up for breakfast/lunch..nearly everyday..
Like clockwork, she always said.. "But You know I'm going to marry you, Roc.. You know.."

We'd flirt.. Talk.. Flirt..
Trade our innermost secrets..
But I never touched her..

*Fast forward 2009*

They'd been together a year & a half
He had smacked her.. Punched her..
Smashed the tv in anger..
Sold her car..
She had even walked in with him ontop of another wom...

"Roc..? did you get it?" jolting me back to the present.. "I just sent u a picture.."

"Aww babes.. Listen.. we can't do this..."

"Whyyy..?" She argued

"Because babes.. Just because.. You're married..! Untouchable..!" I responded.

"Oh please.. Does that mean we can't steal something..? Ehn Roc.. can't we ste..?"

Her call card must have finished..

'Cos the phone went dead..

*Damn girl.. How you ganna ask Anini about stealing?!*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S.
Anini ~ ... no other armed robber rattled Nigeria like Lawrence Anini. The fear of Anini, was the beginning of longevity in the Nigeria Police. Apart from robbing and throwing the money into market square, Anini’s sworn enemy was the Police. It was reported that Anini in a space of 3 months, killed 9 Policemen

Excerpt (http://www.whichwaynigeria.net/nigeria%E2%80%99s-notorious-5/)

Even Quickies feel Good!!

2009-03-05T23:55:00.000Z

Oh yeah..! Even quickies feel good..

Quickie posts on blogville.. that is!!!

Or should i rephrase and say quick posts? Or posted quickly?

You weren't thinking.. oh... you...

GET YOUR MINDS OUT THE GUTTA BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! :)
~~

My fav India Arie track is playing in the background..

"I wonder if you really knew that I see God in you..
and I wonder if you can see..
How much you mean to me..
I know you cannot read my mind..
but I hope you feel the vibe..
I think it's time to let you knowww that..."

While I read Sexkitten's view on relationships.

What struck me were the words..
"..beginning to dawn on me.. that all relationships...eventually end. Some times our partners die, leave us, divorce us... They end!"

Hmmm.. Now I've always believed that succeeding as a person involves deliberately making an effort at our relationships..

Work.. Facebook.. Church.. Blogville.. School.. Twitter.. et al..

And I've always believed that the more people you know...
The higher your chances of meeting the right person..
At the right place.. At the right time..

No ~~self-made person~~ one really did it alone..

When the first man was created, according to biblical accounts, God said, "It is not good for a man to be alone"

That for me, that signifies that the human specie is created..

For connections.. friendships.. Undying relationships..

So do I agree with SexKitten?

I don't know..

But more importantly.. what do you think?

Nipples and Nibbles... The sequel!

2009-03-03T22:07:00.000Z

This continues from here...

Interview.. Done.

Short-changed myself though..
In a room of thirty job seekers..
The only person not wearing a suit was..? Yours truly
Needless to say.. A few weeks later..
A 'you don't suit our requirements' letter came through the post..

But.. I digress..

Bought my tube ticket..

"MIND THE GAP!!" The auto voice boomed as I boarded the train..
My brain ticking over the earlier encounter with Paige..

"was she flirting with me?
Nah! She couldn't have been.
I shouldn't pre-judge someone I'd only just met..
but what if she..?
she's probably just a nice person
But the hand..??
Innocent gesture..
Some people are touchy, feely when conversing..
Yeah.. Must be.."

Thus the battle raged..
between good and evil..

As I approached her door..
I scolded myself..
"GET A GRIP!"

Then..
I reached for her doorbell..
No response..

Lights were on..
her car was parked..

I buzzed again..
Her voice..
"Roc?? Come in, it's open"

Stepped gingerly across her doorstep..

I heard her voice again..
from behind a closed door..

"I'm in the bathroom, make yourself comfortable..
..I'll be with u in a bit."

TV was on..
Tyra goofing around as usual..

I glanced round..
Flat screen.. Leather seats.. Bang & Olufsen speakers.. The works..

Heard her footsteps..
"Nice place.."

"Thanks" she said, as she popped her head round the door..

"Come into the room, so we can tal.."
"I'm cool.. I'll just chill here.."
"C'mon.. I need to show u some jobsites on the computer as well.." she said as she walked away..

Her room looked like a toy store..
Pink sheets.. Teddy bears everywhere..

She had a towel wrapped round her..
round her back and under her arms and back again..
Another one round her hair..

I thought to myself, "if she dares suggest I rub her back or something.. i'll just storm out!"

"Please sit down" she said, tapping the bed.

"Thanks for this morning," I said, "I was.."

"What do u think of this town then?" interrupting me mid-sentence..
"Cold innit? it gets real cold and lonely sometimes.. end up wasting money on heating, when u could be cuddled up with someone under a duvet"

"Uhm.. I can imagine" I said wryly, as I watched her hit the power button on the desktop..

Taking it as my cue.. I tried another tack..
"So the C.V that I en.."

"You know I've never really wanted much from a man" she said.. Cutting me short again.

"I've only wanted a guy to be there for me on those cold nights..
Someone I can cook for once in a while..
Someone That I can cuddle while watching tv..
You know? Basic stuff"

"I'm sure a lady like u won't have a problem getting a man."

"So u find me attractive then..?"

"Jeez!" I thought to myself..
But before I could respond..

"Oh! Do me a favor please and pass me the mirr.. Nah! Don't worry i'll get it myself.."

As she stood up.. smiling..
Her towel dropped to the floor..

'SHITTTTTT!'

--- Sent from Nokia E71 mobile messaging device

How could an Angel break my heart..

2009-03-03T09:25:00.000Z

I woke up in a sweat..

I’m angry.. I’m sad..
Why do I ache so bad..
If this is how a dream feels
Why does this feel so real?
“Emotions don’t count in the long term” she said
I try hard to hide my pain.. too many tears unshed..
She said “we can’t be together..”
Yet we can’t seem to stay apart
But last night she took all I had left..
My faith, my dreams, my love.. a brutal act of theft..
In hindsight.. a hammer would have been better..
But she used an axle-grinder..
and smashed my heart to smithereens..

I’m sad.

Nipples and Nibbles...

2009-03-02T00:50:00.000Z

"Feel free to pop round and say hi anytime, anytime at all" she said to me, fifteen minutes after we first met.

"But I don't even know your name”, I responded
"Paige.. Everyone calls me Paige, apart from ur aunt who still uses my old name” flashing her pearly whites at me.

She was 36 going on 20.. Own house, nice car, two kids, no man. Could easily have passed for a shorter/darker version of Myleene Klass. (if you looked closely)

I was 25, only been in this cold town for 3days, after dragging my 'ghana must go' in the rain, from Heathrow..

And I was already coming to terms with the fact that in a 'previous life', Shawn was originally Seun.. And Larry was originally Lanre.. And Paige was originally.. Yeah you catch my drift..

Anyways couple of weeks later..
She drives past me at a busstop.. screeches to a halt.

"Jump in, jump in, I’ll drop u. Where are you off to?”
"Kings Cross .. Got a job interview, I'll get a bus there, appreciate it though” I said, inhaling the scent of burning rubber.
"Waiting for a bus in the cold can be a pain.. I'm not in a rush, no worries.” she said

Forty odd minutes later..
We're closing in on my test centre..
Car heating on..
She's talking about how I need to remix my C.V. 'experience-wise' in my job hunt..
I'm listening..

''So you really need to work on..'' she suddenly stops.. then, “you know what? Come over to mine when you're done and we'll take a look at your C.V, together, see if I can help in anyway..”
"Oh.. okay.. will do, thanks.” I said as I reached for the door handle.
"Wait a sec..” reaching across me, for the glove compartment.

Whiff of perfume..

Nipples straining against shirt..

Top button undone.. Cleavage alert..!

She hands me a £20 note, “Get the underground back..”
"Gee! Thanks. Appreciate it!”
"Not a problem”, she says, patting my thigh and leaving it there for a few seconds and some..
"Try and make sure u come, I’ll be looking forward to seeing u”
"Definitely,.. I'll definitely come” I said, feeling her warm hand through my trouser fabric..

Hopped out and walked away, while trying hard to remember a famous song by Fela..

You know the one, don't you..? The one where a cat sleeps and a mouse nibbles on it's tail..

...TBC...

Culturally homophobic or a homophobic culture?

2009-02-27T01:20:00.000Z

Two blokes opposite me on the tube are getting real cosy..

I'm studiously staring at my phone.. Because what they're doing is sort of getting on my nerves..

But should it?

I've got gay friends..
So it's not a right or wrong issue for me..

I'm a 'live and let live' kinda guy..
All man to his own and God for us all..
Blah.. blah.. blah...

But still I don't like seeing men's tongues down each others throats..

So I wonder..
Does that make me homophobic..?

I don't think so.. But..

On the flip side..
If the white friends I have and hang out with..
behind their backs I didn't like for some reason..
Wouldn't that make me racist?

So is it fair game, to blame diverging 'cultural backgrounds' then..

I guess with the amount of sex on TV now..
The mind gets numb to seeing stuff that doesn't settle well with u..

Isn't that the same way Rosa Parks and MLK..

Paved the way for a scrawny son of a Kenyan immigrant..?

What you're not used to becomes more.. acceptable..??

Saying that though..

Never did see 'Brokeback mountain'..

--- Sent from Nokia E71 mobile messaging device

AfroBabe! Wahala dey oh..!

2009-02-26T01:39:00.000Z

Okay! Okay!! So my headline is a tad bit sensational/melodramatic..

I should probably have used a more subtle line like "bounty hunter seeks AfroBabe..."

Anyways AfroBabe, I have a ~~proposition~~.. ~~Offer~~... Uhm, Ok call it what u want but I've decided you need a manager to help you manage you ~~undiscovered~~ future earnings..

I don't charge much..

Honest..
And I'm not related to sam lufti..

I've already drawn up a contract..
Gross income of course..!
But don't call it my salary.. call it an investment.. sounds better.

20% for marketing and branding..
20% for my wardrobe..
20% to get you featured in vanity fair.. (Failing which I'm sure I can snag you an exclusive spot with Vera or Shona..)
20% to make sure I keep shut and refrain from a tell-all book when u fire me..

And....

20% to see if we can get you ~~http://www.afroliciousbabe.com/~~ (my bad, looks like u got that covered) o..k.. we'll just have to call it 'miscellaneous'..

Not worries, there's no small print to worry about..

So sign here----------------

Better yet..

As you'll be owing me 100% of your ~~undiscovered~~ future earnings..

Just send me a cheque.. *wink*

EXHIBIT A!

The story continues..

2009-02-23T00:59:00.000Z

So I decided not to use the title of my last post and just say part two right after, 'cos I bet there are guys on a Bay somewhere in orange jumpsuits for the same reasons..

I'd hate to be in a dark room facing some JamesBond villain look-alikes, saying, ''No! ROTFLMAO really doesn't mean ...''

So Buttercup and Funms.. wondered what happened next..

They glanced at each other.. Then back at me..

"You Nigerian then?” one said, with a hint of incredulity..
"Uhm.. We're still going to have to search your car I'm afraid..”

So while one started looking under my floor mats… (I had him pegged as the rookie), the older cop walked over to me.

Busy crosschecking my details with a funny voice at the other end of the radio..

He asked.. ''So what do you do for a living then?''
''I live.. I blog.. I roc.." (not my exact words, mind you)

''AHA!!'' The rookie searching the car, spun round..

Waving a screwdriver furiously, he said, “what’s this for then?”

At this point, I'd figured 'these guys no get work'

As straight-faced as I could manage, ''it's a complex mechanical tool used to un-entangle little pieces of equipm..."
''No'' the older one interrupted, “its just a screwdriver..”
"Oh yeah..” (My lame attempt at sarcasm failed me)

So I ended up with a ticking off and that was it..

See ladies..? Not as exciting as you would have hoped..

I didn’t suddenly end up in MMA, with a screwdriver in my right hand and nothing else..

Finally.. since we’re on the issues of cops..

One night a police officer was staking out a particularly rowdy pub for possible drunk drivers. At closing time, he saw a man stumble out of the pub, trip on the curb and try his keys on five different cars before he found his. The man sat in the front seat fumbling around with his keys for 20 minutes, intermittently hitting his head on the steering wheel..
Meanwhile, all the other customers left the bar and drove off. Finally he started his engine and began to pull away as well..

The police officer was waiting for him. As soon as he pulled onto the street, the officer stopped him, barked his rights at him and administered the breathalyzer test to determine his blood-alcohol content.
The results showed a reading of O.O.. Nil.. Zilch..
The puzzled officer demanded to know how that could be.

The driver replied, "Tonight I'm the designated decoy."

a Naija suicide bomber? ROTFLMAO!!

2009-02-20T23:11:00.000Z

Reading AfroBabe's post reminded me of a recent incident..

All I had to do was drop my then-chic off at the train station twenty minutes away..
Drive back home..
And sleep till Kingdom come..
Pretty easy task, right? Wrong.

I'd had a late night.. So was desperate to go back to bed..

Getting to the station was straight forward..
It was just as I turned to leave that I noticed the blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror..

They approached the car.. on either side..

"Is this your vehicle, sir?”
"can u switch off the engine please”
They said one after the other..

"Yeah!" switching the engine off, "what’s the problem officer?"

"Can u step out the car please"
"Do u know why we stopped you?"

"Jeez?! What are u guys? Twins? Or is this the good cop, bad cop routine?” I said under my breathe

"Excuse me?" "What was that?”

"I said, what are you guys asking? Isn’t it just your normal stop and check routine”

"Oh Ok.. So u don't know why we stopped u then? What did u come to do here this morning?”

"Came to drop someone off..”

"Well u came through a 'no entry' sign to get here and we don't believe u actually came to drop anyone.. So we're going to have to conduct a vehicle search for any weapons and explosives just in case you're a terrorist or anything of the sort!”

That's when I started giggling.. “you’re kidding me right?”

Blank expressions..

“Ok do what you have to do but I’ll just explain something to you..”

“I’m Naija.. so you’ve probably heard we do loads of stuff BUT we never commit suicide.. no matter the situation! And trust me, we never kill ourselves for nobody..!”

Brains on a beach..

2009-02-17T19:44:00.000Z

I still remember like it was yesterday..

We both met her the same day.. And both liked the same way..

The way a man likes a woman but doesn't want to be just friends with her.

Me and him were alike like that.. testosterone in overdrive..
See a woman that looked like she did and only one thing came mind..
Dark chocolatey skin.. 5'7'.. Ample bosom.. And a bum u had to concentrate on to keep track of..

"Jambite, mass communications" she said..
"A fresher? reallyyy!!" we both said in unison.. Glancing at each other, thinking the same thoughts..

Couple of weeks later, he bursts into my room..
"Ooooo boy.. Anyone given u head on a beach before?"
"BJ for beach? No.. What happened?"
"Meeennn u need to try it maaann.. u suppose try am.." he said, gesticulating furiously..

You would have thought he was a used car salesman..

"Calm down bro.. What happened? Go on, spit it out"

Then he went into details..

"Remember that chic we met.. Yea.. Yea.. THAT one..
We went for a drive last night.. Took her to kuramo beach..
after much much now.. U know the drill nowww..
she went down on me man! As in dooown!"

"I don't get.. Was that a first for u..?" I said in disbelief..

"No.. But not like this, man, I'm telling u. She took me so far in, I'm sure I could feel her tonsils.. And just when I'm getting used to the tingling warmth.. She came off and the sea breeze hit me, giving me goose bumps... crazy sensations bro.. warm-cold-warm-cold-warm.. Damn!
'I must have lasted 30 seconds.." he chuckled.

"More like five.. You lucky S.O.B" I laughed, while I went all green..

Subsequently, for some reason, everytime i saw her..

I thought of sand.. Lapping Waves.. Cool breeze.. Clear night.. and...

Yeah.. I remember..

I still remember like it was yesterday..

Funny that..

When it rains it pours..

2009-02-13T23:20:00.000Z

"I know sometimes its gonna rain.."

NeYo's new tune is playing in d background, as I drive to work..

Thinking so many thoughts..

'so what if it never rains?'

'what if it only flips between sunny days and thunderstorms?'

'why does something that feels so good hurt so bad?'

'is it defeatist to admit defeat.. In loving someone who doesn't seem to want to be loved?'

The words that were said, kept playing on my mind..

She said "sometimes love is just not enough..."

I said "love isn't about finding a perfect person, but finding an imperfect person and making him perfect for you.."

"Nonsense!", She said, "You're fooling yourself and you need to get your head out of the clouds.."

Then she texted to apologise.. with a caveat that she didn't really mean it..

How come...

..BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!!! Loud horns start blaring behind me..

Damn! Didn't notice the lights had gone green..

But the radio's still on..

It's Eric Benet 'love don't make no sense'

Just a bit..

2009-02-11T14:19:00.000Z

Issues.. drama.. et al..

So I’m a tad bit weary with it all this morning/afternoon..

The lady in my life is peeved off with me.. I’m sad, she’s sad.. not a good look..

Then this package I’m waiting for isn’t helping matters.

Card was in the post a couple of days ago, that they missed an attempted delivery. Said to re-schedule a delivery online..

Sounded easy.. booked it for Tuesday..

Then Tuesday came.. waited.. and waited.. and waited some more..

Called them.. automated voices all the way.. so exasperation set in..

At the umpteenth time of trying, I finally get to speak to someone after sitting twiddling my thumbs for seven and something hours..

“oh! Thanks for calling but we have you’re package scheduled for delivery tomorrow, sir”

“what???!!! I booked it online for today and I been sitting waiting for it all day”

“sorry about that sir, but we tried calling you several times but your phone was engaged..”

“yeah right, thanks anyways”

so.. fast forward back to the present and I’m still here.. waiting

vexing a lil’ bit more as the clock ticks..

..and also hoping She cuts a bruva some slack..

Album review ~ MI - Talk About It.. A 5 Mics album?

2009-02-09T00:26:00.000Z

MCing is one of the essential elements of hip-hop: The best MCs can sway the world with just words and flow. They don't just entertain us — they introduce us to new styles, regions and slang,

Ask any hip hop head and they’ll say certain things define a good MC, wordplay, metaphors, punchlines, swagger, breath control and delivery,

The top MC’s in Naija now are ModeNine, MI, eLDee, Rukus, SauceKid, Killz, Naeto C.. Yeah I know we got others but if I name them all I’ll be here till tomorrow,

While eLDee was one of the better rappers in his TrybesMen heyday, I don’t think what eLDee does now can really be called rap, cos all he seems to do is spit a bar or two and then switch to autotune..

ModeNine is undisputably a good MC, However he’s a punchline MC. Similar to Big L and Cassidy. The kinda rapper you’d listen to and go “ohh! Did u hear that?” but the koko is Big L and Cassidy rarely make it onto Top 5 MC lists because they’re not versatile enough to switch their flow up when it matters,

I have an opinion on all the above listed eMCee's but the advantage MI has on these other cats right now, is he has a little bit of everything and is more versatile, Every classic album has a bit of everything that appeals to different genres,

A party track, a ladies track, a ‘street-cred’ track,

Case in context, Notorious BIG’s debut album ‘Ready to die’;

One more chance = party track; Read - Anoti
Big poppa = ladies track; Read – Short Black Guy
Warning = Street-cred track; Read – Talk about it/ Crowd Mentality

(Proof that it’s not all bout Punchlines?)

I got that venom rhyme like Sprite got lemon-lime/ Donna Karan dime, keep her hair done all the time/ My rhyme, somewhat Shakespearean, blood I'm smearin' and/ Tongue-kissin' my lawyer at my hearin'/ In this day and age, my rap is like the plague/ I married this sh--, y'all n---as still engaged."

— Notorious BIG "Realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A." (from Junior M.A.F.I.A.'s Conspiracy, 1995)

Then Kanye West raised the bar by making gospel hip with ‘Jesus Walks’; Read – Jehovah/ Chant down Babylon, But then MI also has the intangible: his voice.

A dope album would require a spin when we first wake up in the morning. We’d listen to their songs when we're on the way to that job we hate or when we're heading out to the most jamming club,

So while I think MI has to has to be the most consistently excellent MC in the game, and be at his apex every year before he can be considered Naija’s best MC,

I do think his album would have got 5 mics in ‘The Source’.

“30,000 sold in 30 minutes, shitttt!!”