“… if na long thing you need, I’m Mr-giving-you-all-that-you-need, Sa re wa gba Sisi Shalewa, Sa re was gba, ko gbeeni wa…Oh forgive me guys, got carried away with this beat of life song. Mid riff winding sturvs you see. Have you heard “The Matter?” by Wizkid? You should, But ah well, we’re not doing a music review today…Let’s proceed with this (whatever this is) shall we?


“…There are too many idiots in this world. And having said it, I have the burden of proving it.”

This is not a light burden in anyway. Matter of fact it is one that has me keeled over,  crawling through the dust stained earth, sweating profusely. It’s a problem, a weight. You need to stop whatever it is you are doing right now and ask yourself “Am I an Idiot?” Your answer is not so important because you probably are. You’re not? You’re not?

watch this video for a bit

watch this video for a bit

You clicked, didn’t you?

you didn’t? No? NO???

Oh really?

Say that “No” out loud right now. Not a shout, just a little under your breath.


Who is looking at a screen and saying the words “No?”

You see?


Anyway, follow as I school you a bit on “Idiocy” and the genre of humans called “idiots” You just might discover yourself and embark on that journey to emancipation from mental slavery that Rev. Marley sang so passionately about. As with almost everything on earth that has a definition (well apart from Vic-O, PEJ’s Grammar and Tonto’s spelling) The word ‘idiot’ can also be defined. Wikipedia defines an idiot as a mentally deficient person, or someone who acts in a self-defeating or significantly counterproductive way. Long thing if you ask me. The Urban dictionary goes ahead to define an idiot as anyone who comes online seeking a definition of the word ‘idiot’ I don’t know where this definition places me but ain’t nobody got time fo’ that. Fuck you UD.

For today’s lesson anyway, let’s just assume ignorance and seek to embrace wisdom as brought your way by my very humble self. Here’s a quick test that helps define/identify these miniature morons, imbeciles, dundees, dummies, dodoyos, dopemus…Lol the D ain’t silent in these names yo.

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Just click the blue square to proceed.



Blackberry Idiots: The dawn of the technological age has brought with it earth shattering revelations as now we can clearly see the ones amongst us that deserve to be banished to deserts in faraway places. I’m not about to slander BB users, nah; that doesn’t make you an idiot. My grouse here is with those who are using a smart phone yet lack any atom of smartness in them. These brands of idiots abbreviate their words and spell in retardese. They use ‘words’ like ‘tew, yhu, mawnin, kk (yes you’re an idiot if you write kk) etc. What’s annoying is that their smart phones attempt to correct these words but NO, they insert it into the memory of the phone and make it status quo. Do they stop at the retarded spellings? NO. They go on to dress the words in fancy characters as though their words are naked and putting those signs is some form of protection. E.g  Son how A̶̲̥̅̊я̲̣̥ε̲ Ɣoΰ today? HåÞÞ¥ sunday


Don’t even argue. Sometimes I wonder how their life was before fancy characters arrived. Should we talk about their BB Display names? Lord, I feel a headache coming.

Online Idiots:  For the sake of this post, I shall focus on just those on Social Media and Blogs. In case you don’t know what Social Media is (this confirms your idiocy by the way), it is your electronic second life. Various social media exist and here’s an example of how you can differ them:


The Social Media channels most utilised in this part of the world are facebook, Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn and of recent, Keek. The rest are well, bleh. This is where we get to prove the fact that you are an idiot. It is common knowledge that majority of the people on facebook are idiots , mentally deficient, Intellectual virgins special. (Please if you’re reading this from facebook, I wasn’t the one that said it. It’s just one of the online beliefs that we can’t argue with). Facebook is where you see a higher display of retardism. Someone believed that writing your name with a ‘H’ prefix and adding extra letters is some sort of cool. What the hell is Horladelay Hanniefowoshay? Who used your sense as foot mat?  Having said that, a lot of you had your humble beginnings on facebook where you had more than 500 friends and could have endless conversations in your status. Your status updates (though googled) brought the crowd to your yard and you felt like you had arrived. See where your roots lie? See why you’re the way you are? It’s not really your fault, It’s more of nurture than nature atink.

These are real human beings though

These are real human beings though

I see you de-activating your facebook account now, It’s fine.

…and then you discovered Twitter. Yes Twitter-The devil. You were an idiot on facebook (lowkey though) and then you came on twitter and now more people know. The idiots on twitter are easy to spot, they bring their googled tweets along, and they also bring their fancy characters and meh spellings. As far as I’m concerned, handles with prefixes like sexy, Barbie, Nikki, diva etc are glorified modifications of the Horlayemi facebook clan and as such are idiots. The idiot guys on twitter have theft in their blood (remember they were stealing stuff from google so yeah) they steal tweets for a living and still have little or no life. Then there’s that genre of idiot following parody (Nigerian comedian) accounts. For one, the jokes are dead, not original and they make you wonder what kind of sense of humour (or lack of it) these morons have. I could go on and on talk about the ones who ask dumb questions on the reg, rate avatars etc but I’m tired and this is getting long.

There are really no laid out rules for twitter asides “do all you can not to be similar to the oracle.” yeah, i think that’s it. It’s somewhere in the bible as well.

#sidebar: You’re an idiot for thinking I’m an idiot right now.

Should we talk about keek for a bit? Nah, let’s just say many desires (stimulated by twitter and Facebook) have fallen the way of crashed dreams when your video was opened and we discovered you really look like the poster child of otapiapia and sound like there’s hot yam in your mouth. Idiot. You really shouldn’t have followed the crowd y’know. I mean it was okay when you sent your pictures to your Instagram friends for filtering and all you had to do was type words and not speak. Now you’re keeking and we can see how your tongue tries to escape from your mouth every time you speak. You better just join the ass shakers and save yourself further embarassment. (For those with ass only abeg) ..idiot.

And for the guys on keek, you lot don’t know shit. Shut up. Idiots.

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The blog ones…lol..Here I have to tread easy because I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot. You know those people you see when you click on the comments of blogs like Linda’s? Yeah those guys. Have you read their comments? Lordy Lord, I’m working on a theory that these people are the same as those with the funny facebook names, fancy characters on BBM and parody followers on twitter. You don’t see such people on TSC because our readers are all brilliant nshit. You’re still an idiot though, but a special type.

I should round this up…

Arsene Wenger- Now this one is a special brand of idiot. I don’t even know I’m just tired. How can you sell your best players year in year out and expect to be a threat? Let’s ignore that you’re selling these players to your competition. I mean, you sell Clichy, Kolo Toure, Adebayor and Nasri to Man City and guess who wins the English league? You sell RVP to ManU and look who’s about to win again. Nah guys, I’m sorry if you don’t watch football and you’re reading this, I just have to pour out this vex…Ok. I’ll do an entire rant on this in a subsequent post. But fuck you Mr Wenger. Fuck Y O FUCKING U. UGHHHHHh!!!

There are many other idiots out there. They be chilling at bus stops trying to extort motorists, you see them in reality shows trying to win some prize or the other and you wonder why their ‘loved ones’ didn’t stop them from embarrassing their lineage.

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They are lots of them in offices under the acronym ‘boss’ They are a necessary evil and it seems they aren’t going anywhere soon…well except if like me, you have a plan of mixing their coffee with purgative.

Basically, my goal with this post is/was to show/prove/demonstrate to you that contrary to the general rule/belief that majority might be idiots, Some of us aren’t. 🙂

“To every rule there is an exception—and an idiot ready to demonstrate it. Don’t be the one!”




Ever since I left you…

I’ve been to hell and I’m back…

And my baby, I…

I wanna give you all my body and soul…

In fact I want to, give you…

The keys to all that I got…

Cos you’re my star…

You are my rainbow…

“Ever since I left you….”

Before we get to the ‘left’ part, let me tell you how the ‘met’ part happened…

It was a Friday night (Isn’t it contradictory to call it ‘Friday night’? Shouldn’t it just be Frinight?) and my guys and I were headed to the club after an amazingly stressful week. The drinks were ice cold, the wine was lukewarm, and the women were steaming hot.

Well, they were average…

Okay fine, some of them were ugly.

But Jack always fixes that. Doesn’t he? Good man Jack.

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So here I am, in a corner of the club, both bottle and glass half empty, when this woman with a skirt shorter than the entire cast of The Hobbits, a top with a cut lower than a stripper’s standards and a half smoked cigarette butt comes over and asks, “Are you Ed?”

“Who’s asking?” I replied.

“Uhm…didn’t you see my lips move when I talked?” she replied.

“Well, I want to know who sent you.”

“Are you Ed or not?”

“I’m gonna go with “Not”…”

And then she bent so low I could see all the way down her top to her mother’s disappointment and said “Well, for tonight, you’re Ed, and you and I are going to have fun.”

With her cigarette swirling in the contents of my glass and a tight grip on my fist, I was led to the dance floor.

And that was how I met Rane.

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 “Ever since I left you….”

Day 1

I can’t move my legs. I literally cannot feel my lower body. I can only hear voices and I’m not sure on which side of my head they’re coming from. The last thing I remember was breaking up with Rane on the morning of the 11th, leaving my apartment for the car park, four figures showing up from nowhere, and the extremely familiar question “Are you Ed?”

Now I’m tied up, on the floor, with the stench of urine and petrol in the air. I feel my pockets and realize that they have been emptied. Which means no jack knife, no car keys, no wallet, and most importantly, no phone. So even if I get out, I can’t tweet call for help.

Ain’t this a PostBadBitch?

I hear footsteps and a loud thump and once again, I’m sleep.

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Day 2

“Do you know why you’re here?” a voice asked.

“No idea” I answered.

“Beat him up for 20 minutes then give him something to eat. After that he can serve his punishment.” A familiar, female voice said.


“Yes dear?”


I blacked out after the first kick to my groin.

I blacked back in when the water hit my face. Then a party pack was shoved under my chin and despite the blinding pain, I scooped food into my mouth like a fat kid at a chocolate fountain.

With my arms tied behind my back, and a blindfold around my eyes, I felt the headphones clamp on my head…

…and then I began my punishment…


When I first heard the music, the instrumental wasn’t that bad. I was actually starting to enjoy it. And then a voice came on. And I started to listen to what he had to say, because nobody warned me that this was the punishment.

“I’m on fire call me fire bender

I lend cars, call me calendar”

A lone tear dropped from my cheek. This was bad, but it wasn’t Kill-Myself-Bad. If this was all I had to stand, then no shaking…

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Then the track changed, and I honestly did not know which was worse.

“Imma vote for you girl like a campaign…”

At this point my brain imploded because how does one vote for a campaign…?

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“I go deep like a prophet”


“wish our love would last long, anaconda”

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“No guy in here go above this…

Imma take you high high high like my upstairs”

I blacked out…

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Day 3

I wake up, and find myself tied up…still. But this time I’m in a chair. In a tiny square room with nothing but a 40” television covering the entire space of the wall I was facing. There’s a light skinned male on the screen with a jerry curl and the letters “AM” in the corner of the screen.


So this woman poisoned her husband’s food and tasted it. And it was good and pleasant to the tongue, and did not affect her in any way. Nope. But her husband just convulsed at the mouth and died from the first spoon.

I can do this…

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It’s the sequel and this lady just fell asleep, went to a scene in her past and switched from a dark skinned woman with a Yoruba accent to a light skinned older looking woman with a foreign accent.

Can I do this?


The time is 1905, we are back to the pre-modern era, however, the roads are tarred and I think I just saw an MTN signboard.

I can’t do this.


I’ve been watching this channel for 12 hours. This is the 6th sequel of this particular movie, and they haven’t found the killer. The acting I can stand. The makeup is bearable. The script I can endure…

But the sub titles…

I. Cannot. Stomach. The. Subtitles…

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I start screaming at the top of my voice.


“Is the mighty Ed begging?” the all too familiar voice said…

“This bitch is crazy”

“I heard that…”


“I didn’t know you were a poet”

“Do we let him out ma’am?”

“Yes, yes. He has suffered enough”

“I’ve been to hell and I’m back”

As I came out of my ‘cell’, she greeted me with a warm embrace and a “Happy Valentine honey” like she wasn’t the reason my legs felt heavier than a politician’s pockets. I was too tired to argue. I just smiled and realized that Life with Rane >> Life without Rane.

“Happy Valentine Sherane”

“Your gifts are in the car outside waiting to take you to the hospital” she said.

My gifts were a Hublot, matching jerseys with words on them, and an engagement ring.

An engagement ring people…

An… Engagement… Ring…

I was really too tired to say anything. I decided I would plot my exit from this continent when I am strong enough.

As she drove me, I spread the jerseys to see what they read and I made out the words “My” and “Rane”

“Like ‘em?” she asked…

“Yes beau” I answered.

“Who is your Rane?” she asked…

“You are my Rane beau” I answered.

“Happy Valentine babe. I can’t wait till we get married” she said.

And as we drove to the hospital, the only words in my head were “God forbid I marry this crazy bitch.”


And so people, we have come to the very end of this amazing series. I know how crazy it was for you, anticipating the daily posts, rushing to comment first…wait. What? Nobody ever rushed to comment? Ugh!

From the broken hearted to the broken boned, we have taken you through a variety of emotions this season and we hope you enjoyed it. Cos we ain’t doing this shit again!

Just kidding. We’ll keep delivering. As long as you’re reading. Promise.

Oh well, the glorious series is over. Not the blog. So visit from time to time, subscribe, tell a friend to tell a friend, and of course, give us feedback. We love that shit. No for real, all bloggers love comments, some more than others, but yeah, try and drop something. The Good Lord loves a cheerful giver.

Thanks to our guest writers @deolaaa and @VixenPixie. We are sure the readers of TSC will love to see you guys drop by again, so please feel free to do so. Thanks for honouring our call to write.

Thanks you guys for sticking with us through yet another series. We couldn’t have done it without you…Joke. We could have but then that will mean no readers, so you guys see how important you are? We do all of this for you, because we love you *wipes tear*

Thanks for reading yo!


Well, you made it this far. Good for you. If you don’t have a boo yet, don’t worry. You’re not the most useless person around. There’s really a whole lot of you. LOL. Happy Valentines Day to you and the one that’s not yours yet because he/she can/might still break up with you after today.

On to today’s aptly chosen piece. He needs no Introduction but fuck it, I’ll Introduce who i damn well desire to Introduce. Ladies, Gentlemen and People of Twitter..



WARNING: This post is not for Single people.

Shebi at this point, normal single people should have closed the page and continued with their lives of seclusion and lotion (look I rhymed! ‘Clusion/lotion’ 😀 ) after having read that warning ba?
But not you.
The Bruce Willis of singledom.

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I’m about to give you guys gist. It’s valentine season and this gist is annoyingly goopy. The season and simple courtesy demand it be so. Parts of the gist may or may not be true. It may or may not be awwwwwwwww-inspiring. But it darned sure is smarmy, diabetes-inducing , dripping with the detergent water from cupid’s boxers and you may actually want to stop living or die outrightly if you ignore the warning and go ahead to read this


Hello Lovers and people in relationships and happy people in general, I greet you all. ^_^
*side eyes single people and spits waywardly in disgust*

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Before I start, quick question… Can you remember how you met the current owner of your mumu button?

I remember mine. Any of you guys ever watched with desire as someone watched you watching them with desire? And the person is watching you with desire as you’re watching the person with desire and you’re watching the person watch you watch them? LOL! This life is a Swatch watch. I desire Panadol right now. I’ve made myself dizzy. (//-\\)
Like I was saying sha, It’s a beautiful beautiful sensation; that inception-ish process of eye-balling a stranger who is also eye-balling you. Beautiful

…Sha, that’s how we met,  my sweetheart and I.

There I was. On my way to buy bread from the supermarket at the shopping complex in the estate. Short stroll. Saturday morning. Was about to cross the road. And since I am a normal human being and not a Millipede, I looked right then left before preparing to cross. And that’s when I saw her face. Guys, my heart made that honest-to-God KEDIKE sound for the first time in my entire life.

“From the first time I met you | There was something about you | I can never forget the way you tainted my heart…”

No jokes. I could hear and feel it in and from my chest. Not the normal PLUPLUPLUPLU sound. No, there was that … and then I saw her face, then KEDIKE, then the PLUPLUPLUPLU continued.
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Such ethereal beauty. I stared into her eyes as time froze and watched as she watched me. Those eyes. The arch of her left eyebrow. That nose. Those lips … Kai, I could have lived in that moment forever. ^_^

“I just can’t help myself, I wan be your own…”

However, Time started to accelerate real quick as a simultaneous sequence of unfortunate incidences unravelled before my very life and watching eyes.
First, I noticed her eyebrows were arching further upwards even as her beautiful eyes began to widen. Almost as if she was about to scream or yodel.

Turned out she was about to scream.
In that same split second I noticed it was only her face I’d  been able to see. I noticed this because I also noticed she was seated in the driver’s seat of a Range Rover sport. A Range Rover Sport in motion!

Thirdly I looked down and noticed I was no longer by the roadside about to cross, but I had crossed while ogling my incoming killer’s beautiful face. I was standing in the exact middle  of the road..

In the path of the Jeep!





Dear God…

I looked up then. And our eyes met and locked even as I heard GBOOM! Next thing i think I knew, I was spread like fried eggs on the bonnet of the angelic stranger’s SUV. The babe must have stood on the brake at that moment because the Range halted of a sudden and I was propelled into the air in the opposite direction with all the grace of an Olympic long jumper on marijuana. I swear, at that moment, I Could understand why Superman wore his pants on the outside

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I was deposited in a gutter with stinky rain water, spirogyra,  the remainder of my shame and God knows what else.
I knew I wasn’t dead but humiliation and my inherent foolishness made me pretend. I assumed the Pacquiao even as I heard car doors opening and people running towards my direction.

I heard what I imagined to be her voice amidst all the other strange yelling voices. Repeatedly crying “oh my God I’ve killed him”. I cracked open an eyelid to peep. And you guys won’t believe this.
In that moment? In my pain? With everything that had just happened? My heart did a funny thing as I saw her full figure standing there with tears pouring down her beautiful face and a slight wind rustling her hair across her face just so.

My stupid heart made that KEDIKE sound again. :’)

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The crowd dispersed when they poked and prodded me and I kept muttering “Go away.” They realised I was more embarrassed than actually hurt and they left me with my stranger.

“Hired killer.” I muttered as I limped out of the gutter and glowered at her.
“Accident victim.” She replied.
And believe it or not we both laughed long and hard. As if it was the single most fucking natural thing for us to have met the way we did.

She asked if I’d left both my eyeballs at home and inquired as to what the hell was actually wrong with me? “What were you looking at? She yelled it like twice.

I asked whether it was Lucifer itself or a direct subordinate that taught her to drive and whether the lesson took place in hell or here in Abuja.

I made to hobble away. She brushed off my “I’m okay”s and ended up dropping me off at the estate clinic. Later, we exchanged contacts. while she complained about the inconsiderate dentIi left on her truck.

On our third date after the incident, I spilled my drink twice as she looked at me. And she choked on her food repeatedly whenever she’d find me watching her. Seated across each other after dinner at some restaurant in some Mall outside the estate, we both started to talk at once of a sudden. She made me go first. And I told her how the accident actually happened (Just as I’ve told you guys). from my perspective. I held nothing back. Told her how I just couldn’t help myself. How I’d felt at that moment when she caught my gaze from behind the wheel of her ride before she nearly killed me.

I basically spat out the entire lyrics of the song which’s title is somewhere above this post. Told her I’d gladly agree to be hit over and over by her truck in all of my afterlives if it would mean we’d always meet and never be apart for all of eternity. Yeah. I said all of that and more. It was an intuitive gamble. I decided to tell her all anyway. My heart had never before beat that way for anybody. Not even that one day when an armed robber, wearing a red shirt and medicated glasses, being chased by an angry mob had sprinted past me. And I was wearing a red shirt too. And medicated glasses. And heading towards the mob. But I digress. That is another gist for another day.

Where was I?
Ah, yes. I told her to laugh at me if she wanted to for being silly and that expressive on our 3rd date. Then I resumed my psycho babble. At some point in my babble I realised she wasn’t laughing.
So I shut up. And watched her watch me.
And she took my hand then. I looked away.
She splayed my fingers over her chest. Over her breast heart.
Then she asked me to look at her.
I looked into her eyes and I swear to God guys.

Her. Heart. Went. KE.DI.KE.

“That’s how I feel when you look at me.” she said :’)

That was 3 years ago. We’re married now. And we tell the story of how we met. To EVERYONE

To God be the glory.

We are nothing but pencils in the hand of the almighty.


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*wipes tears and mucii on Saka’s tee shirt* … Wait. The plural of mucus is mucii right? Toh. Sue me if it’s not. It sure as hell sounds right.
Anyways, happy new year and merry valentine to you all and the families of your better halves.

P.S. As at the time I was typing this last part of this post, (to the best of my knowledge) I was/am Still single too. Shame on the universe. *shakes fist*
Grey out.


Welcome guys, here we go again right? In case you aren’t aware, It’s also Ash Wednesday. What this means is that you shouldn’t eat any form of meat, Of course you know what I’m talking about. so quit acting all confused. Ash Wednesday also marks the beginning of the Christian Lent season which lasts for 40 days. In this time, people generally give up something(s) to become better people. Let’s ignore the fact that they put these things down to pick ’em up after 40 days (if they last that long anyway) Some of us have generally decided to give up Valentine’s day for lent seeing as we are good human beings and what not.

I’m getting carried away, this isn’t why we are here. Forgive me..

As Valentine’s draws near, You’d be amazed at the number of people who “didn’t care” that become all of a sudden uptight because they do not have a “boo” It’s ok, No one wants to be the butt of jokes or the clearly revealed member of “Forever Alone.” Ladies and Gentlemen, bringing today’s post our way is the talented, full of life though very mysterious and expressive @VixenPixie or Oyin for those of us allowed to annoy her and get away with it…enjoy


Nobody knows the pain I feel
Nobody knows but it’s for real
I can feel it, I do
Nobody knows that I miss you
Nobody knows but it’s the truth
I can feel it, I do

I rushed out of my office to the bathroom to be sure that the pain that had taken hold of my stomach was not out of the fact that my crush said Hello to me. I mean if you’ve been crushing on a guy harder than a trailer over Wiz Khalifa then you’ll understand my dilemma. Getting there and doing the routine checks, the warm, moist blood that dripped out my *ahem* was a bloody reminder on how this Valentines was going to go.


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I mean, i just got the nerve to flirt with my crush, no, it’s not because its valentine or anything. No it’s not because I’m expecting a gift, or I need a gift that much. I can take care of myself very well on other days of the month, and what’s your business sef? Methinks it was just the right time to say hi.

Please keep your stupid raised eye to yourself. You don’t know me like that.

You cannot pretend that I don’t even matter
You and I know better
You’ve been away from me for too long
It’s time for you to come on home
No one can say what is right for me
They don’t have to live my life
I need for you to come on over
I’ll be waiting

He needs to realize that my love for him is what has kept him in this office. He always said in a sort of way that he didn’t know why he kept working for the company. Ehn, he didn’t tell me directly but I always heard when he mentioned it to our colleagues. He wanted me to hear it so he always said it out loud. Little does he know that he needed to see me, to smile at me for his day to go well. He doesn’t know it yet but… I must be home to him.

I am nothing without you baby
Nothing it’s driving me crazy
Nothing, no one, I’m so alone
Nothing without you baby

I mean, does he realise that I spent good money on this see through lacy top so that he would see that he is nothing without me? And he seems to look right past me, like I’m nothing and its driving me crazy. It makes everywhere colder jor. Like I’m alone in this office. Was this what Nikki Minaj felt? I mean, how did she do that shit? God, I can’t come and catch pneumonia on top this man abeg; when I’m not rose and this isn’t titanic. Help him Lord, touch his heart, Open his eyes…

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No one can see inside of me
No one can see how much I care
I need you, I do
Nobody sees the tears I cry
No one is there to dry my eyes
I need you, I do

I’ve not wanted anyone to see the inside of me except you. No, this is not sexual. It’s…literal? and I’m hiding how much I care about you, I mean see how the other people in this office are talking about that girl that you always go to lunch with, and me, I’ll be crying inside my cup of coffee hoping you will notice. Ok now. It’s not fair o. I know you need me as much as I need you so stop tripping and look this way.

I don’t care what they say about you
They don’t know how I feel for you
I don’t care what they say about me
They don’t know and they can’t see

So now that you know why I wore this today, and I’m bleeding from the nervousness of having your attention, You better know that you should not care what is said about me. I know I had an affair with the boss last month, but he won’t give me a valentines gift. You would.
Not like that’s why I’m chasing after you o. All these people don’t know and can’t see how much my loins love you. So let’s be nothing without each other. At least till the 15th of February.


I shall now proceed over to his desk, bend over in the most seductive way I can with the hope that he sees my well rounded, yellow-like-mango boobs and then I’ll ask for his penis…sorry, his pen. I’ll ask for his pen and…

OMG!!! Is he really walking towards my desk? Have the gods finally hearkened to my cry?

He’s coming here…He’s holding flowers…

Yes, I’m surely going to faint now. Wait, let me arrange myself and save this memory *exhales* breathe, breathe…

“Hi, your name is Somi right?”

“*giggles* Um..no it’s Bolanle, but my real close friends call me Somi..” *giggles*

“Oh my bad, Bolanle…Just a quick one; Are these Roses real? Like I got them to surprise my girlfriend, you know seeing as its valentines and all but I can’t vouch for their authenticity. I’d have asked Funmi but she’s off duty today…Is that blood near your leg”

Dear God, Thanks for the reminder.


Tune used: Brandy’s “Nothing”

Isn’t @VixenPixie just brilliant? Thank you so much dear...Have you ever been in such a.. Do you know a friend that has been in such a situation? Where things didn’t go according to plan and they ended up feeling even more foolish because of things they did/didn’t say? Please do share your their experience(s) with us in the comment box.


Have you Ever?

Hey People, welcome to today’s edition of VALENTUNES. Thanks for embarking on this journey with us, we are completely overwhelmed (or something like that) So yeah, today the show goes on and we have serving you a hot dish from the recesses of her oven (no sexual innuendos here please) Ladies and Gentlemen, Please welcome to TSC…



Let’s play a game called “Have you?”. This is going to be moderated by both Brandy’s – the wine and the artiste…for every yes, you take a shot…for every no, stare at the fourth finger of your left hand and sob…let’s go…

Have you ever fallen in love so deeply that you needed a Hausa well digger to get you out?

Have you stopped talking to at least more than 3 friends or/and family members because of the one you love(d)?

Have you ever wept more than 24 hours for love?

Have you any blister scars on your hands that resulted from washing or/and pounding for the one you love(d)?

Have you ever been in love? Have you? Have you?

Yeah, now that I’m drunk, let’s get to the real story…

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Love is like that very difficult course in Uni that has just 1 unit; so hard but not worth it. But what do you do to ace that course anyway? You prepare. If the course conquers you and you fail like me, what to do? Well, you prepare harder and try again or else you won’t leave that institution…the single institution…

I’m taking the course for the 12th time and I promise I’m not dumb. Ok! I might have thought women urinate through their vagina at one time and camel toe was a woman’s little toe with a hump but that’s not enough to judge me ok?

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Moving on…

All guys lie, ranging from our daddies to tweetoracle. This is not even up for debate and I don’t mean the little lies like “oh my aunt sent me this dress” when you got it from Yaba or “its just my skin, I don’t use foundation” when MaryKay can use your face as signboard. Its all those lies that tear the ozone layer of the earth 5cm at a time I’m referring to, like “she’s just an ex, we’re not dating” when this girl knows the map of all the veins that were and are still sprouting on your schlong…

Yeah, I’m angry as you must have figured and I really am actually surprised that condition has not made my straight crayfish bent to a lesbian. I don’t know how long my crayfish can stay straight with this epidemic of VicO and his variants but I hope just long enough…

Chuks and I were so in love, or so I assumed. I would call it love at first sight for me and love at third “nack” for him but I didn’t mind. You see, there are so many things you stop minding when everytime you complain of menstrual pain, your mother reminds you of your mates enduring child birth pain gladly in their husband’s houses and how you are punishing her by not giving her a grand child.

I was the best girlfriend. Even though my daughters would carry the risk of having chest hair and moustache, I still was determined to make it through with Chuks. It looked like everything was in place and I “mistakenly” dropped my cocktail rings all around his apartment so getting the size of my engagement ring wouldn’t be a problem.

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One day, Tori, my best friend, IM’ed me and said there was gist.
“One of your akata boyfriends have left you again abi?”
“I wish”, she replied.
I wished too. I wished that was the story my now estranged bestie had for me. Akata stories were more fun than hearing your boyfriend might have a girlfriend he was engaged to in the US and Bestie had just met her.

I was actually confused for a while but chose not to believe the report of the devil which was why I confronted Chuks. Like a true bastard, he denied it and even told me how the girl was a deluded ex and I was the one for him. Naturally, I believed him. Don’t blame me ok? I thought guys marrying more than a girl at a time stopped with Fela.

Anyway, I stopped talking to Tori…and 3 more friends. They were jealous as far as I was concerned. Good friends hide their jealousy, theirs was as obvious as Kanye’s ego.

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My world was built around Chucks now and work. Even mother’s warnings after Tori told her about the deluded ex were ignored. I had my life to live yanah? 9 months and we were still going strong. One day, after hanging his shirts to dry in his bathroom, I asked what our plans for Christmas would be and he mentioned his friends were coming home so he was going to be busy.

“Ehn let me meet your friends now. We’ll hang and it would be fun”

“You might not like them”, he replied.

“Come on. Don’t be ridiculous. If I can like your mother, I can like any body”

He still was reluctant. He would come around, I thought.

The calls reduced, mine increased. The more Chuks drew away, the closer I got to him…it was like 2 magnets. Each call of mine he took was filled with awkward one-liners. It was mid-life crisis, my mind told my heart. Those
were my remaining friends now. He wouldn’t even make out with me, I repelled him more than Ruggedy’s account repelled the blue tick.

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I decided enough was enough after reading one of Cosmo’s articles titled “Is your man tired of sex?”. I followed every step- went to the mall and bought shoes with ultra high heels and ultra high price tag, the perfect lingerie in his favorite colour-red and a little black dress that showed off the legs he always complimented. I invited him to dinner and we talked! Oh no, sorry! He talked.

He told me how I had been very good to him and each day he saw me, he wanted to make the right decision.

He was finally going to do it. Poor boy had been so nervous he didn’t know how to act. It was happening, these were my thoughts until I heard “…and she’s coming home December”.

“Who is coming home December?”


“Who is Ada?”

“My fiance. Have you not heard anything I’ve said?”

“No”, I shook my head vigorously.

Ada- a cutlass

Ada- the village beside my village

Ada couldn’t be a person.

He held my hand. I pinched his fingers.

“What is happening?”

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I love you I swear, its just that my mum doesn’t want a Yoruba girl”

My laughter must have been really loud because all eyes suddenly were fixed on our table.

“I’m ready to be Igbo then”, I replied while trying to get out of the 2nd leg of my shoe.

“I’ll be Igbo. You can call me Ada”, I continued.

“No, babe. Its over”

The tears flowed like an Otunba’s agbada. There was nobody to talk to about this. I picked my shoes and walked off without saying a word. My senses came faster than a 1-minute man, I turned back.

“Chuks, biko, take me home”. That was the first Igbo word I altered since we met.

The ride back home was bumpy, literally. I knelt to beg him in Chineke’s name and immediately, cussed him in Yoruba.

Chuks and Ada got married 3 months later. I planned the wedding with them- prayed for rapture before the date. I “mistakenly” drove past the venue more than 3 times and even managed to get their Programme book which has been subsequently burned with hot tears being the fuel. Apparently, the girl came back home to marry.

I still switch time to time to NTA newsline expecting the news of an Igbo couple that drowned. Soon. Very soon.

We never spent a Valentine’s day together.
The scars of the blisters are still fresh.
My friends are still not talking to me.
I have been crying for the past 4 months.
I stare at my ring finger and its still empty…
5 shots to that!

Have you ever…


Black Magic

Hey Guys,

First of all, allow me say the joy associated with Victory is mighty awesome. Congratulations Super Eagles for a well deserved AFCON triumph. Sadly, we didn’t get the holiday we desired because we still have a president that…sigh..Anyway, moving on swiftly..

“Valentine again? Mtscheeeew. Abegiii” “Has your lover bought your gift yet?” LOOOL…These are examples of statements you must be seeing/hearing in this ‘season of love’ Yup, It’s Valentine and your darling TSC won’t be left out of all the love and heartbreak. So yes we are here with our Valentine themed series “VALENTUNES” As the name implies; a merger of Valentine (love) stories and music that sorta represents the situations.

Please while we try always to uphold humor as our style, we crave your indulgence on the posts that might have subtle doses.

Let’s kick things off shall we?



“Sometime it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead”

He was the centre of my world to be honest, you can’t even understand. He was my rock, My anchor and without him now, I feel like my whole world is crashing. The floor has been ripped from under my feet and I’m crashing into an abyss of nothingness. What is this life but a faulty USB Cable? Why is it my connections that fail? Why is it my device that the server refuses to recognize? Don’t tell me it will be alright because you don’t fucking know that. Don’t tell me to stop crying, is it your tears? Is it your make up that’s getting smeared? Of course you have your boyfriend still loving you so why won’t you open your mouth and run it like Chris Brown on some wall?

*wails harder* Tunde, why??? Whyyyy?

*flashes back,  remembers mail*

“I heard that you’re settled down
that you found a girl and you’re married now.
I heard that your dreams came true.
Guess she gave you things I didn’t give to you…”


Never mind, I’ll find someone like you, I wish nothing but the best for you *sniff sniff*  FUCK YOU!!! I don’t wish the best for you o, Tunde. Ko ni da fun e laye laye yii *touches finger to tongue and points at sky* Ko ni da fun…*breaksdown*

13 days later…

*opens Twitter account*

Days after…favorites be looking like…

This boy messed me up though, look at my life now. Trying to regain some self esteem via Twitter. Like Tunde used to tell me distance was just a matter of the mind and since we didn’t mind, it didn’t matter. Tunde made me love him. Ah Tunde…Tunde *voice gets shaky* Tun..de *breaks down*

“…And all the time you were tellin’ me lies

So tonight, I’m gonna find a way to make it without you
Tonight I’m gonna find a way to make it without you
I’m gonna hold on to the times that we had tonight
I’m gonna find a way to make it without you..”

*wipes teary face, makes up, pouts and takes raunchy picture*


Love is an illusion. That’s the best way to define it. Matter of fact, the major problem with human beings is their desire to want to put a label on everything.  That girl you’re fucking (pardon my French) wants to know what “this thing you both have is” She wants you to “define us,” Like that’s not hard enough, she fucking asks the question just after you done given her a sexion to remember. I’m sorry maam, my mind cannot at this moment process any intellectual questions as the blood that ought to flow to my brain is still lodged between my legs.

I don’t believe in tags: boyfriends, girlfriends, shag buddies, friends with benefits balabala. #NoIkechukwu I’m just a go getter, I go for what I want, get it and move on pretty swiftly. Some might consider this being cold hearted but please, aren’t we all?  Reminder: I get what I want.

Having said that, there’s this girl Seggy…



“This boy needs to stop bugging me biko. What it is? I’ve said I don’t want. What part of NO do these guys not understand?  You will just see breast in avatar and the next thing is to follow and start bugging the person.  I’m just going to block him“

“You sef, why you dey use breast if no be to catch mugu?”

“Laide abeg, hold it! There’s freedom of expression and I can very well put up any part of my body I desire. Sadly, I can’t put up my brain so…”

“Na im you nor kuku put your eyeball for there? Dey use breast boost followership like say na push up bra” Shebi you don get 3000 followers now, you dey carry shoulder up and dan because you done arrive”

“Please Laide, It’s never that serious. You’re just exhibiting LWKMD behaviour. See why I don’t follow you?”

“Seggy you be fool. Nor be today your matter dey gran. Mainwhile, may you do well gree for any guy wey torchlight you this period.  Valantine don dey near, me nor dey share shokolate with anybody. I don teh you. May u nor just believe say I go even let u snap with cake wey Akpoborie dey send for me.. ehen.”


She’s agreed to meet me up after all her shakara. Of course, this is what happens when you do a lot of Interaction via Online media. Let’s not count how many DMs and shit. Girl refused to give me her pin and I ain’t even bothered to be honest.  I’m just gonna play my best card and I hope this works. I can tell from her tweets she just had some sort of messy relationship. This should be easy, No girl (honestly) wants to be alone on Vals day.

*hits play on phone*


“…is it because he treated you badly, I always stand accused?

Protecting yourself from somebody else, I’m not who’s hurting you

And it’s killing me girl knowing you compare me to him,

Always guilty before the sin, I can’t win, I can’t win…


He left a scar across your heart, I understand girl

Don’t let his wrongs tear us apart, Girl I’m your man…”

Usher ain’t  never lied. Haha!


“Laide I don’t lnow, this guy is really pushing”

“Tell him NO abeg. Whush kain love? Na Love you wan shop?”


She said she likes it when I stay, She says she don’t want me to go. She says I always make her day girl would you be my lover no? She says she really likes my style, seems like she wants to take it slow. Do anything to make her smile, girl would you be my lover? No. What am I to do, tired of running around chasing you. I can never think of replacing you cos na you I dey find, baby make up your mind.

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Would you be my lover?


OMG!!! Laide, BM might just be the one for me.  I mean he says all the sweetest things. He totally understands where I’m coming from and all. I mean, I don’t even know how he knows so much about me. It’s like jazz or something…”

“E fit be na”

“Laide. Please shut up, I’m telling you that he just might be the 5 to my 6 and you’re saying jazz, Use your never functional brain for once abeg…”

“Ok na, im don gree to val you?”

“Is that what life is about for you? Please BM and I could possibly have a forever to share together. Please focus. We have dinner tonight and then we shall talk about us and where this relationship could be heading…”

“Ok o, sha nor forget may u shave. All these boys dem nor dey like bush. Plus e don tey since pesin enter your kini. BM fit lucky today, abi na?”



*Dinner Over, In bed,  Sexion over, Naked :D*

*Insert rhythmical trumpet sound in low volume*

Him: *while stroking her face*  “I love it when you smile at me, you will never have to weep with me  | I’ll be that happiness that moves your heart and when you sleep I’ll find my way into your dreams”

Her: AHA!!!! What do you want from me?

Him: AHA? Black Magic repete,  Mo’n se dada  | Mo’n se jeje | Mo fe k’oje bi ore…


Laide, I don’t know what’s going on o..BM hasn’t called me today and it’s almost 4pm. Is this how Vals day will just pass? No flash, DM, Call nothing. He’s not even tweeted anything today. Na wa o.

“Seggy mama, may you cam dan abeg. Im go show ..mainwhile, una nack yesterday? This one wey u come back early momo so, I sure say im nack u wella…mama”

“Laide please, we made love and it was beautiful. He even told me I’ll never weep with him and he’ll be my happiness and then he mentioned something about finding his way into my dreams. So romantic~I just can’t understand why he hasn’t…

“Him wan enter your dream, no be winch be that? Na wa o…”

“Oh please, BM is amazing and you’re just jealous *flips hair* I think I’ve found the man of my dreams. When I asked him what he wants from me, he repeated in the sexiest Yoruba language.. “Mo fe k’oje bi ore..” and said it meant he wants me to be his forever…*swoons*

“WAIT!!! Ore means…

“Is this the dreaded Friend zone?”

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– @Sirkastiq


So there you have it. The above is common scenario these days. It’s pretty straight forward really, In these days of Instant noodles, Instant passports, Instagram, Nothing wrong with Instant relationships too. Like the story, there are lots of ‘hunter’s just waiting to prowl. There are also lots of ‘broken’ people these hunters seek to ‘fix’ Ah well, the story is self explanatory. MORAL: I’m not really sure if there’s a moral here but Imma go with..nah find your own moral. So yeah, see you on here tomorrow at noon when the next post comes up

Compaireasons 2

Sometimes you sit and wonder, “why am I wondering?”. Sometimes you sit doing nothing and you look back at the last 5 minutes you spent staring into space and you congratulate yourself on time well spent. Sometimes your mind wanders and you start to see connections in the remotest things. And you begin to link words. Like Eboue, Insult, Nigerians, Football, Banky W’s head. Sometimes the tiniest of things catch your attention and you’re so wrapped in your own world that you almost get pissed when someone wakes you from your reverie.

Today, friends and family of the TSC community, we are here to rub minds. Well, we’re here to watch a mini debate go down between one of the greatest minds in the world and me.



We’re here to watch me argue with myself.

Anyway, this is a follow up to the last post we had here  and even though Kelvin has already done all the best Compaireasons™ and left me with the dregs, he did leave out a few. First and most important amongst these few is…

Shaki Vs Roundabout


Yup..see the veins on that muscle flexer…

This is probably one comparison that will never die out in people’s mouths. Literally… Which is better? The rough sponge-like feel of the ever glorious shaki or the smooth long look of the roundabout. (Is that the legal name? Does it not have a real name like the rest of its siblings like ponmo or bokoto? I don’t even know but hey. Let’s focus on what’s important please)

In terms of name we already have a winner because shaki doesn’t have a part of the road named after it. I mean, someone was making turns at the roundabout and went, “Hey, this feels like the meat I ate 3 days ago” and decided to name that part of the topology after the glorious delicacy.

Yes, that’s how it happened.

No, it’s not the other way around.

Please do your research before coming to argue blindly on the internet.

In terms of texture however, we have shaki pulling some serious weight here because it looks like the type of meat that can fight its own battles. Tough like a Spartan. Other pieces of food will agree that sometimes Hydrochloric Acid can be a bitch, but not to shaki. Obviously the Balotelli of assorted meat.

Arsenal Vs Super Eagles


Go on..

Go on..

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Super Chicken

There are a few differences though. For example, one has more white players with a few dark skinned players and the other has loads of dark skinned niggas with a few light skinned ones.

One didn’t need N1.2million to open a Facebook fanpage. The other obviously bought the deluxe version and did it big.

Sometimes one team actually wins. Surprising right? They actually score more goals than the opposition and their fans can come online and run their mouths with “Gooners Forever” and brag about how their team is better than those in the Coca-cola division. These times however are few and far between and are to be made the best use of, so you really can’t blame them.

The other team however, went to art school, as it seems they can only draw. All the inspiration in the world is not enough to make them win. So much that they were the subject of ridicule from a parody account spitting hot fire.

This is a touchy subject for me. Give me a minute to compose myself.

You guys better deliver on Sunday yo. Nobody is playing with you. Especially not Eboue.

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Well, technically, he is…but you get my point.

With these few points of mine, I’m sure you can deduce which team is better. At least one team wins sometimes.

PS: I did not mention any names. If you used your discerning to figure out who I was talking about then it was your discerning. Not mine.


Shina Rambo vs 2Chainz

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You have to understand that these guys are actually signed. To actual record labels. And are expected to produce real albums that the record labels will deem fit to release to the general public.


2Chainz, whose government name is actually Tauheed Epps (How Kanye signed a nigga named Tauheed is still beyond me) is a rapper aslso known as Tity boi (are you hearing these names??) that hails from Georgia. This nigga here has a 4.0 GPA (I know right? Who doesn’t?) and finished second in his class, but you guys need to get this, 2Chainz finished with a 4.0 GPA.

Shouldn’t he rap better than a cheap gift store?

Let’s leave this for a minute.

Shina Rambo.

I swear, I googled Sina Rambo..I dont un'ersten

I swear, I googled Sina Rambo..I dont un’ersten

My goodness.

I have learned in my few years of studying the music industry that sometimes the wack musicians get more buzz than the really good ones. I mean some people don’t know who Bez is but they…what? You don’t know who Bez is?


Anyway, if you search this nigga’s name on Wikipedia, the words “This page has some issues” appear. I would like to rest my case at this point. Shina Rambo is the worst rapper the world over, and yes, even 2Chainz looks at him with disdain.

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At least 2Chainz charges $100,000 a verse. And actually wears 2Chainz. Fascinating right? Shina Rambo has nothing to offer. Even Davido stopped and laughed the first time in the studio when he was supposed to say “Shina Rambo is better than….alliyou, alliyou”

I know. I was there.

I was gonna do a Aki and Frodo Baggins comparison or how Banky W wants to be Neyo so bad but I’m really not in the mood for tears, so we’re just gonna stop here for now. Okay?


We have an announcement by the way….



It’s not news that Terdoh is the master at this wit shit so let’s not even get on that right now. Great post my man.


So guys, You know that announcement we’ve been talking about? Yeah, so from the stables of TSC,  we present our Valentine special series titled “VALENTUNES.” No, it’s not a mistake or error. “ValentUnes” basically involves a fusion of Valentine stories and Music. Our aim is to serve you with love themed stories laced with music inserts. The songs can either form the content of the post or feature sporadically. We shall do our best to serve all posts laced with humour while not diluting our attempted seriousness.


Ladies and Gentlemen, Featuring on Valentunes are @Cumical, @TheGreyGenesis, @VixenPixie, @deolaaa and @Sirkastiq. Valentunes begins on Feb 11th and runs till the 15th.

Follow us on Twitter @TheSarcasticCtr.

Cheers guys