humour
Random Conversation
Today on wahalacentral we have a guest with us bringing you a random conversation betw….oh well maybe a not so random conversation. The Characters herein actually represent real people and yeah this really happened. What? You don’t believe me? Woe unto ye of little faith.
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ToothBrush – hayceeee! Ode, wake up.
ToothPaste – Ahn ahn tooty wetin dey worry you ? It’s 3:24 am. Abeg lemme sleep. No dey disturb me.
ToothBrush – Razzite. See your big head like lemme sleep. You never sleep reach?! See as you dey fat. As your belle big so, e never do you ? Wake up wake up. We gats to talk.
ToothPaste – ohmiegarrdd. y u do dis. *stretches* what is it ?
ToothBrush – I can’t sleep.
ToothPaste – ehn? Kindly repeat that please.
ToothBrush – Something dey do you for ear ni? I cannot sleep.
ToothPaste – You must be very stupid.
TootbBrush – teepeeeee nauu. You know say I lunv yew. Don’t leave a nigg henging. Ok ok. I wanna make tins right.
ToothPaste – YOU CANNUH MAKE THEM RIGHT, LATER ?! oh gad allow me rest na. I no wan play dis play with you this early mo mo.
ToothBrush – Waka shege. Shey you see why I left you. Oloshi. I hope say big madam throw you away. Idiot. Bornfool.
ToothPaste – You left who ? Eez like you still dey dream.
ToothBrush – But baby I lunv yew
ToothPaste – y dis your love no shift to 6am nau. I wan sleep.
ToothBrush – *Cries* I jos have one question. Jos one quesh.
ToothPaste – okay…
ToothBrush – Can I ask eet ?
ToothPaste – Yes.
ToothBrush – Are you sure ?
ToothPaste – I am sure.
ToothBrush – Are you absolut…
ToothPaste – I can slap you.
ToothBrush – y u dey always fall down from me evryteim madam put you for my borry ? *sobs*
ToothPaste – I don’t understand this your question. Explain further. Osiso!
ToothBrush – before ehn, if big madam presses your borry and put you on me, you used to stay oh. Then we enter her mouth and become one. You know, and do the uhum uhum *clears throat* you know how eet ees na. *winks* but now! *breaks down* once she puts you on my borry, you jos like to dey fall anyhow. y u do dis 😥
ToothPaste – you really wantu know ?
ToothBrush – yez my lolo.
ToothPaste – dun call me dat you idiot. Remember that time wey big madam bring home that other girl? Oral-B abi wetin dem dey call am.
ToothBrush – ehn I remember am.
ToothPaste – she kon mount you, una con enter big madam mouth. Dey do the uhum uhum *clears throat* ah e pain me well well. I jos dey look una. Tooty, you break my heart dat day no be small.
ToothBrush – ah! My lolo. My one en only. You know say na only you I dey like enter madam mouth with. Na only you oh.
ToothPaste – *giggles* ehn I don’t know oh. Did you enjoy doing it with her? No lie to me.
ToothBrush – nna mehn, I no go do am again. She just dey do anyhow for my borry. I no like am at all at all. Na only you I like. Aswerugad. Na only you.
ToothPaste – ehen. say my name say my name, like no one ees around yew, say baby I lunv yew.
ToothBrush – my lolo number wan number wan. Close up. Up en personal. *winks* luffu wan tin tin. You don forgive me? *slides to her*
ToothPaste – *side eye* no dey tosh me oh. I still dey ves small.
ToothBrush – forgive me na. you know say na only me dey do you wella.
ToothPaste – *blushes* yez yez. You no go sing for me?
ToothBrush – you are my african quee. Gal of mai drimzz. You take me… *The bed creaks… – Ewo e be like say madam don wake up oh.
ToothPaste – shh shh! *Madam enters bathroom. She soliloquies, “I could have sworn heard voices. I’m so never eating late again.” She pees and goes back to bed.
ToothBrush – see as hin pee dey smell. kai.
ToothPaste – ode I wan sleep back oh. No disturb me again.
ToothBrush – I lunv yew. TP – ehn.
ToothBrush – you no go say am back?!
ToothPaste – y I go say am back. you wey dey change for me anyhow. Ehn y I go sa…
ToothBrush – My lolo.
ToothPaste – I lunv yew tew.
ToothBrush – *Giggles*
END.
**
By @_Vanessur
Thanks for stopping by. Shalom
Welcome to the Good Life!
Hello, WahalaCentral people! A lot has happened this week, no? For those of you with actual jobs (no, I’m not referring to that one you wrote on your twitter bio; Online PR is not a real job – FOH) who got paid yesterday, we say hallelujah.
Hallelujah, and hope you #turnedup? If you are getting a salary and not losing half of it on booze and the other half by sticking it into the butt cheeks of some pimpled stripper (yes, Nigerian strippers have pimples; if you find one without, run, she has herpes) at a club creatively named “The Stripper” (really creative…), dude, why the hell are you still working? You look like the kind of person that sleeps in pyjamas.
Filth.
Okay. We want to set the mood here. Imagine you are in a blue room with some mellow Michael Jackson’s “Heal the World” playing in the background. There are three kwashiorkor infectedchildren standing in front of you, giving you the eye – you know the one: milky, rheumy, and accusing you (like “bros, why you eat indomie with two eggs? You know I have not eaten in weeks, yet you eat two eggs. Why you do this?”)
Aha. The stage is set. It is time for us to speak:
“Brethren, here we are today, with a heavy heart. The Nigerian Blog Awards is here again. *sniff* Please vote for us?
Do you love us, fam? Do you? Do you? Feed my sheep.
Please nominate us in whichever category(ies) you deem fit. Here’s the link: www.nigerianblogawards.com/register2013.php.”
This is the first stage as different things are sure to follow if we’re nominated. We’ll be sure to keep you posted.
HELP US BE GREAT. IF WE WIN, YOU WIN. Thank you.
And now for today’s post…
_________________________________________________________
Volturi_Lord: We all have different versions of the good life. Or rather I should say we all have different opinion of what “the good life” entails. It all depends on our mindsets, our ambitions, our expectations and ultimately our final reality.
I do not pretend to know all the answers, obviously I do not. If I actually did I would be sipping martinis with Bill Gates’ daughter at Michelle Obama’s monthly cocktail party and we would be lightly bantering and bickering about the date of our wedding.
*clears throat*
Do I look like I’m dating bill’s daughter?
Do I in this my shabby boxers look like someone they’ll let on a plane to Sudan?
Do you, in even your wildest imagination think that I look like someone with 5 thousand bucks in the bank let alone Visa to Ghana?
Sigh.
Let us move on.
Since it’s now official that I do not have all the answers I will now attempt to describe my “Good life” for you.
😀
In our many years of knocking heads together, constantly arguing, discussing and once in a while (rarely) agreement, a couple of friends and I have come to realize the one main essential component of the good life.
Now you’re expecting me to say money right? Well I’m not gonna.
Money’s the number one component of the good life, but today I‘m gonna talk about the second most important component of the good life…….. Someone to share it with.
To be honest I hate my mentality right now. I have neither the energy, the power, the drive nor the focus to find someone to share the good life with.
Seeing as all the above mean the same thing I’m gonna give it to you straight (no pun intended),
I no get power….. Relationships are so melodramatic. And where there’s drama, there’s definite gonna be some trauma also.
Even 2face with his squad of baby mamas and platoon of children is still scared of being alone: “if to say na just me……..”
This is indeed mushy and unlike many of my posts, may or may not be inspired by loneliness but, like seriously, with the right person, success is all sorts of awesome.
And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.
I’ve been too much of a bad influence in your life no doubt. So I’m gonna hand you over to my good friend oVunderkind, and she’s gonna give a more wholesome idea of what the good life entails…
Vunderkind: Let me tell you a true story. As a child, we had this monkey called “Chicago”, because my dad was a fan of Chicago Bulls or something. Anyway, Chicago was the gayest monkey ever liveth, and it would spend most evenings blowing itself, you know? Giving itself fellatio. Sucking its own…you get the idea.
Chicago’s next best thing right after its own pink penis was bananas – which I thought was gay at the time until I shockingly discovered that all monkeys actually love bananas. Yeah, I wasn’t that bright as a kid. I’ve more than made up for it in my adulthood (plus I now have this big and very huge election. Yes. You read that right. I’m running for President.)
Where am I going with this? Well, as it happened, one day Chicago broke out of its cage. In other words, it pulled a Wentworth Miller, breaking out of its prison (God I swear that little monkey was gay) and climbed the NEPA pole.
To make a Bruno Mars of the whole matter, Chicago died by electrification. One minute we were shouting to my dad “Dad! Don’t let him die! Please dad!”, and the next minute we were settling down to a refreshing meal of banga spiced with monkey meat.
Why have I told you this story? I don’t know. Maybe I’m hungry for monkey meat. But I distinctly remember chewing on Chicago’s little leg and thinking – “Ah, Jesu. Di zees de gud laif!”
So I don’t know about you niggahs, but I experienced the good life while eating my pet monkey. Maybe the good life comes from frying and eating your pets.
And if that is the case….
Calabar people are awesome.
**
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SOS!
“Please! That’s all the money I have, don’t hurt my family”, the voice of Okon, your neighbour interrupts your sweet dreams, one of magnificent castles and trendy wheels. You grumble, wondering if he’s been drinking cheap gin again – that irresponsible juicehead aarrgghh! “You should probably check my wife’s box of jewelry under the kitchen sink”, Okon helplessly suggests. “That can’t be another drunken drivel”, your sluggish brain cells finally kick start. Oh wait…it’s a robbery! Just like Nollywood movies with real guns (supposedly) and all.
Your family is already gathered in the living room and your 9-year-old has found another excuse to wet himself. Something has to be done! Your family waits on you with agitated breathing. Call the Men in Black! Exactly! It’s their job after all (to clean shit up). This is the stuff of legends your momma always believed you’ll get to do. How hard can making a phone call to the force be? How hard?
You snatch at your phone and start dialing…errm…ol’ up, that was your pastor’s number you were dialing. Police Oh! You want to call the police. ol’ up…so what’s the police hotline again? Doesn’t really surprise you that you don’t know it. Does it even exist? How old are you again? 37? Pffttt…this is unacceptable! Okon makes another whimpering cry as you try to pull a Merlin and conjure digits from mere candle wax. “Call 911”, your kid whispers. “No DSTV for one week!” you scowl back at her. Damn Hollywood!
So there you are! Useless to Okon and family because you can’t conjure a magical combination of digits that should alert the cavalry that might not even show . You must be so proud of yourself! No? You should be. Seriously. You ask why? Because you sir, are not alone.
Truth is a good percentage of Nigerians don’t know the digits to dial (don’t even ask google). Okay…so…how many crimes have you witnessed? Not many? But there was one, right? Why didn’t you make that phone call? No airtime? Crappy network? No? Why then? Of course you don’t know what to dial, that’s why!
Just so I don’t appear like a dickbag pulling rainbow out his skinny ass (I still might), I used google people. No, it’s not 234…pipe down. I got a combination of 11 digits (yes…the usual) for separate divisions in separate towns in separate…blah blah blah. I mean, come on! Who wants to start thinking of 11 digits when gun shots are making akin dives around your medulla. I know I don’t.
This brings me to the question: Why? Why is there no standard nationwide-verified police hotline? Why should you be the hero when there are people trained for that shit? Why shouldn’t you be able to help your neighbour with a phone call? Or say call the police cos some random snake is out there feeling gangster swallowing your poultry’s eggs? Ask a few other “why’s” yourself. See?
Nigeria is still developing you say? That’s a 53 (well over a hundred if you include Luggard)-year-old excuse. As old as the internet…I think? Corruption? I don’t know about that. Overthinking stuff is not my strong suit (neither is overtalking…nor overwriting), so I’m just gonna pin the situation on negligence. Yup. Sue me. I’m lazy. If only ‘you-know-who’ would get over his shoeless past and make decisions on real issues, life would be a tad easier for us normal folks.
There’s a bigger chance of me popping Viju bottles in an airplane this time tomorrow than the decision-makers reading this. But if your uncle happens to be one, just tell him to holler me on twirra, I got a few suggestions for what we want (yes, WE). 419 doesn’t sound so bad. It’s like our cultural identity. And as a bonus, it sounds way cooler than 911.
So you just spent 15 precious minutes of your life (3 minutes if just skimmed through the page) reading something you already know all about. Sorry oh awon eyin Einstein. That’s what boredom does to you. You can go back to your pet rabbit now…or whatever it is you do in your free time. You think I wasted your time? Call 419! HAHAHAHAHA Gotcha.
**
BY SAMMOYD. (All images courtesy of google)
Follow us on twitter @wahalacentral
SUPERHERO DIARIES
Hi. My name is Jimoh Bolorunduro, and I do not play with my job.
I am a policeman, and a Superhero.
People call me a bloody policeman, but I don’t mind. That’s one of my super powers – not having a mind of my own.
The other day I was standing in my black costume.
On the path of Infinity.
Then I heard a scream.
“AAAARRRRHHHHH!!!!”
I knew I had to do something, so I spun around swiftly and asked, “Is there a problem sir?”
“Please, leave the road!” the driver screamed.
“Oh,” I replied, as I got out of the path of Infinity.
And that was how I forgot to collect my N20 from the Nissan Infiniti driver.
I usually engage in philosophical discussions with people from time to time. Just the other day, I was discussing the state of the economy with a random stranger.
“What do you think about the level of corruption these days?”
“Terrible. Really terrible,” I replied as I pocketed his N500.
My major challenges, however have been with the criminals. They ruin business for us. I am naturally a peace-loving, law-indifferent citizen of the country, but sometimes I have to react. The other day, I saw a Hummer jeep pulling up at my checkpoint, and I was already happy – no one can own a Hummer and pretend to be broke.
As the car pulled up to my side, I smiled warmly at the family inside. They were all bald.
“Good day sir. I will like to take some of your money for questioning at our station,” I said as I gave them my most oily smile.
The man at the wheel was incredulous. “Are you trying to be funny??!”
“Well, I guess I can manage hilarious money too,” I said a little bit sadly. E be like say this guy no wan pay pass N100.
“We were robbed a few minutes ago,” the man announced coldly. I failed to see how that concerned me, but simply because I am a good person by nature, I did my best to act surprised and look concerned.
“Oh my God, you were robbed? Have you contacted the police?”
“YOU ARE THE POLICE!!!”
“Oh. Yes. Right. I forgot. Well, what did they take from you?”
“The armed robber took our money! And he shaved our heads!”
“You are sure he took all your money?”
“Yes. He took my wife’s jewelry and my mother’s gold false teeth.” An old woman gave me a gummy smile at the backseat.
“So…what you are saying is that you were robbed, and this guy took your money?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t even leave anything at all? No matter how small – “
“Nope.”
“Not even N200?”
“Nope.”
I broke down and wept. How can this life be so cruel? Hummer jeeps pass like once every week in this checkpoint and this one has no money. God why?
“Well?,” the heartless driver of the Hummer jeep asked. “Are you not going to do anything?”
That armed robber took my money. My money! It’s because of him this family cannot give me my roger.
I wanted to hurt the robber so bad. I wanted to knee him in the preek until his eggs burst, fry the eggs and force him to eat it with bread.
I wanted to Revenge.
Fuck it. I felt like Batman – without the handsomeness. Or the money.
The family pointed me in the way the robber went (it turns out they were robbed about five minutes down the road) and I stumbled into the bush, highly provoked in my spirit.
I walked down into the bush for a while and found nothing. I would have kept on searching, but I heard something like a lion’s roar in the distance and I suddenly found a place in my heart to forgive the robber. Maybe his family is sick and he needs the money to treat them. Maybe his mother has cancer. I should just let the poor guy go in peace…
Then it hit me.
No, seriously. A coconut hit me, and I looked up to see a masked guy halfway up the tree with a knife in his teeth and a gun in his pocket.
“Well done, bros,” I greeted politely. “You see any person wey resembu armed robber run pass this side?”
The guy jumped down from the tree and walked up to me.
“How far?” he greeted me and we shook hands. Such a nice guy.
“Well done oh. Sorry for disturbing. I am just looking for one armed robber that robbed one hummer jeep na-na-na.”
“Na me be the thief.”
“Oh,” I really didn’t know what to say. He looked so nice. I couldn’t believe it. “You mean am, abi you dey use me play?”
“Na me na,” he said, and pointed to the top of the tree, where I saw a purse with money poking out of it.
“Ehen.” I really didn’t know what to say. “Ehen.”
“Yes. Ehen.”
“Ehen?”
“Ehen.”
“E be like say I gatz arrest you now.”
“Ehen?”
“Ehn.”
“Ok.”
“But why you shave their head na?”
“Because,” and he stared deeply into my soul. “Because I am a Smooth Criminal.”
I started laughing and he started laughing and we were hugging each other and crying then he broke one coconut on my head and I passed out.
I came to twenty minutes later to find that the guy had gone – and so had the purse of money.
But I don’t feel bad sha. It was not all a loss.
At least I got a new haircut.
**
By Vunderkind.
Follow the Blog on twitter @wahalacentral. Have a wonderful weekend. Shalom.
Wahala Central 