I AM NIYI, AND I'M A TERRORIST

KAYODE'S OPENING: The piece that follows was written by Niyi Ademoroti. Some are sure he's the babe in our homosexual relationship. I'll obviously be the dude. I like to dish it, hehehe. He is @Toybaba on Twitter. You might wanna exercise caution about following him because apparently, hitting his "follow button" might take you to the fantastic country of Narnia. Fantastic as in fantasy. I mean, who cares about terrorists that don't bag 72 hymens after they're done?

This is my second piece after my brief hiatus and you'll find out that I still suck. The title of this has absolutely nothing to do with the piece itself and I am not sorry for disappointing or misleading you, infact that was my intention. I must stress at this point that if you ɑre not witty, you will not find this funny so kindly fuck off right now, FLEE! If you indeed ɑre witty you also will not find it funny because it is not meant to be, I lost my sense of humor to a male prostitute who raped me. -__-Have you ever dreamt of the futuree, I mean not

TOLA, YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME A TITLE!

KAYODE'S OPENING: No, it's not a chess move where you beat that Bulgarian with just the one move. Seriously. Now, Tola Agunbiade wrote this. I've known her for half a day and I think she's weird. Very. You may find her weird too. I like weird. Make of that what you might... err, say, a coat of many colours. Or something. She's @Phyrdausi on Twitter. Knock your teeth out grappling with that. Hehehe. Knock yourself out reading this. It'll be worth your while.

The problem i always have whenever i write is what topic to write on. Most times, my mind is blissfully blank and i have nothing (sensible) to say...other times i have stuff to say but i just don’t know how to say them. Or rather, i don’t know how to “elaborate” which is why Twitter is so awesome for me. So! I have this mild throbbing...not in my nether regions, no... Au contraire, it’s in my... er...temple? Anyway, i’m thinking of investing in Ibuprofen. My Microsoft Word doesn’t really auto-capitalize my words.

THE LAST NORTHERN PRESIDENT

AUTHOR'S CAUTION: Any likeness to any Homo sapiens or objects, real or imagined, must have only been imagined by you. This story alludes to no such things. Well, if you think it does, there's always the trusty shrink, It is also worthy of note that this was written in 2009, when a certain somebody was bedridden in Saudi Arabia. Thank you.

time time

In climes distant from our shores, where heads were not permitted to be unadorned by pieces of fabric, there lay a president, prostrate, perforated by needles and blades, attached to a dozen different blinking machines, and hanging on for dear life. Did I mention that he was black?

Not today though, the president was strangely bubbly and full of life...well, not like normal healthy people, but in the circumstances, quite remarkable. He had requested that a television be brought into his room and tuned to AIT. “Why not NTA sir?”, his ADC had enquired, and the president had this to say to him: Stop sucking uf, we are not in Abuja

LOVE AND OTHER PSYCHOACTIVE SUBSTANCES: SERIES TWO

How's the laundry coming?

In this latest installment, we delve even deeper... If you missed the first installment, find them here

5. YOU’RE PLAYING A DANGEROUS GAME…

… by overly “chuking” mouth in that other person’s relationship. There’s an extent to which it is allowed that you get involved in someone else’s relationship. There’s a line you shouldn’t cross. Every, I repeat, every single important decision to be made in a relationship must be made by the individuals involved. Do not suggest for them, except if for instance, there’s proof of physical violence/abuse. Even at that, I’d tell you once or twice, and if you don’t listen, you’re totally OYO afterwards.

We’re humans and where we can get away it, we love to practice that blame culture. It wasn’t me that did it. It was already cracked. Blah. Trust me, if you help (or feel that you’re helping) someone by suggesting to that person that they leave a relationship because he/she (I’d prefer “they”, but not many people get English these days, just ask Freeze and Kaylah on CoolFm) has given you reasons why they should, well, take care that it doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass. That blame culture will ensure that

LOVE AND OTHER PSYCHOACTIVE SUBSTANCES: SERIES 1

...better elfs

I began this piece, several times, in my head. Unfortunately, despite the fact that the tools to put those beginnings down were within my immediate reach, laziness don finish me. Now, I toil to come up with something nearly as fabulous as the lost openings. All I see is black. And void.

Now, there has been a preponderance of movie blogs (aka blog posts) on here for a while now. My blog is for whatever pleases me to write at any particular moment, and right now, movies lo wa lori gangan. But a different bug has finally buzzed in my ear. It had been biting me for a while now, but I took no heed. However, it reverted to the tried and triple trusted mosquito routine – singing an opera in the highest falsetto (pardon my misuse of musical terms, if I have misused it) known to mankind. Kiakia, I don sit up, slap myself. The bug finally caught my attention. Congratulations, bug. Now, you’re getting squashed.

The title may have given you some inkling as to what I want to write about, although, at the time of writing this, I swear I hadn’t given thought to the title yet. It’s the world’s favourite topic, greater than religion, greater than football, oft misunderstood. Love. These are random thoughts about love. Oh heck, the title just jumped out at me.

1. THERE REALLY EXISTS A PHENOMENON CALLED TRUE LOVE

Awww, how very toshing...

I’ll lay my premise. Who says love has to last to be true? Who says it you can’t enjoy it however briefly it may last? What if insurmountable distance, disease or even death do you part, before a break up does? Does that mean the love wasn’t true?