And It Came To Pass…

That Solomon was epic.

And God said “dude. What do you want?” And Solomon didn’t ask for money, clothes or hoes. He asked for common sense. And Premium Common Sense™ was granted to him. And two women came to argue over whose child it was. But Solomon had seen this episode of Desperate Housewives before, so he solved that shit with ease.

And Solomon married like 300 hunned hoes. And Fela was like “damn”. And it was nothing. Cos Solomon wasn’t satisfied with having a different box every day cos that leaves out 65 days. So Solomon had like 700 more concubines. And the Bible doesn’t tell us if they were all female, but I’m not saying anything.

And Solomon was a thrill nigga. Cos Solomon didn’t forget any of their anniversary dates. And Solomon prolly called all his hoes by name. Cos he was wise. And Solomon tried everything ma nigga. All kinds of alcohol, weed, had like 3 orgies daily, prolly wrote the Karma Sutra book, and Solomon was tired of being so real and declared it all vanity and decided to be a poet.

And Solomon wrote love poems on some R Kelly shit, and died.

And it came to pass…

That David had 3 mighty men. Even though we’re only gonna talk about two. And these niggas made Leonidas and his band of 300 merry men look like runway models. And these niggas. And they were called Josheb-Basshebeth, Eleazar, and Shammah.

And Josheb-Basshebeth (we’re just gonna call him Josheb yeah? Cool) was the head of the 3. And this nigga killed 800 people in one day. Meaning he probably woke up at 6am, brushed his teeth, freshened up for war and looked daper as fuck, swagged all the way out to the battle field around 8:30am, probably, and started whooping niggas asses. He also had to sleep, cos real niggas don’t play with they sleep. Meaning he prolly went back to his pimped out tent at about 8:30pm. So 800 people in 12 hours. That’s like 66 people every hour. That’s 1 person every minute.

And this nigga didn’t even take a water break man, this nigga was turnt. Shaun T better watch out.

And then there was Eleazar. When he Dude was online one night when the Philistines were slandering them. Then the philistines attacked and all the punk ass niggas retreated. But not ma nigga Zar. Zar stood alone and was slaying bitch niggas left, right & center like it was nothing. Then the Isrealites joined him but all that was left to do was cleanup.

Cleanup. Shit.

And so it came to pass…

That Joseph could read minds yo.

Okay, no. He couldn’t. But that nigga could dream on some Martin Luther King shit. And he told his brothers that he was gon’ be the greatest and they hated him cos he was too real for them. And they sold their own flesh and blood to the Egyptians dawg the men in the old testament had no regard for their brothers since Cain and Abel.

And Joseph legit went into slavery but somehow found himself in Potiphar’s house. And Joseph was so fresh and so clean with his white linen on that Potiphar’s wife’s pussy had a seizure when she saw him. Shit was mad real man. Joseph used to walk by and she would get so wet she would swim back to her room.

And one day she couldn’t take it anymore, so she called Joey Fresh to her room and she offered Joe the box. And Joe legit turned it down like a popped collar ma nigga.

For this reason alone, Joseph the thrillest nigga to ever walk in Egypt. And God looked down and was like “That’s my boy” and God made him Prime Minister.

And Potiphar’s wife had to buy a dildo.

And so it came to pass…

That Samson was so strong he grew his dada by pulling hair out of his head and was such a badass that he killed niggas with the jaw of an ass. I didn’t even know butt cheeks had jaws man this nigga was too real. And the Philistenes were all like “whoa”.

And the Philistines got together and decided the only way to bring him down was to send a lightskinned hoe his way. So they sent Delilah and Delilah got Samson’s number on Facebook and sent Samson some nudes on Whatsapp.

And Samson flew over to Delilah’s crib for the weekend.

And Samson definitely wasn’t hitting it right. Cos if he was, Delilah wouldn’t have had the strength to ask him stupid questions like “what is the secret of your strength?” after sex. Cos she would be passed the fuck out from all that good dick.

And it came to pass that Samson told her the secret to his strength like a punk ass bitch lil nigga cos we all know we don’t trust these hoes. And Delilah sold him out to the Philistines. And the world’s most famous haircut happened and Samson died.

Punk.

And Delilah retired as a professional loud mouth, hair styling hoe and decided to go ‘inspire’ / seduce the members of the Plain White Tees.

And it came to pass…

Ride or Die?

Hey y’all. Y’all staying alive? Breathing easy? Doing Good #NoMegan. Fine.

As part of our desire to constantly churn out material that helps soothe you guys, we have decided to add another feather to the TSC cap. Well, it goes without saying that we’re the best when it comes to humor in Nigeria, Let’s not brag about our 3 recognition awards but yeah. No one comes close.

What we want to do at TSC is to build a community of writers who have their head screwed deep in humor, Guys who can deliver funny stuff without even trying, people who bring tears of joy to your eyes when you read their shit. Yup. That’s the goal. Little wonder Terdoh and TheGreyGenesis are part of this team. Them niggas hold things down all day everyday.

Alright, in keeping with this tradition, Guys allow me to introduce our newest team member. He’s no stranger to humor neither is he foreign in these parts, Matter of fact, he has over time sent in content that rates as high as the stuff that comes from here, So yeah, “signing him up” was a no brainer. Let us give a massive TSC welcome to the brilliant ‘RJ’ known on twitter as @Monsieur_RJ; our newbie.

*****

Some sexual fantasies are better left in your head.

I learnt this the hard way. No porn intended.

No pun intended either.

Sometime about a fortnight ago, I went to a supermarket in Wuse 2 to get an After Shave. My favorite team had just lost (again) to Olympiakos in the Champions League and I was a little bit disoriented.

david-moyes-loser

The loss had really hurt me and anyone who observed me that night could tell I was in emotional pains. I had a particular brand of After Shave I always used ‘cos I loved the scent and my search for it earlier in the day had not been successful.

I got into this supermarket (name withheld) and asked around for it but they didn’t have it either, so I picked a pack of Smarties and a can of suede spray for my shoes then made my way to pay.  “N520, sir” said the female counter as she packed both items in a leather bag. I searched my wallet and discovered I didn’t come out with enough money.

Or maybe, just maybe, I had spent it all at the bar where I had watched the United game in agony.

“I don’t think I have enough cash on me. Do you accept ATMs?”

She nodded & I gave her my card. She did her lil thing, asked if I was using Current or Savings, blah blah & then finally asked me to insert my pin. As I punched it in, saying the numbers audibly as I did, she looked at me and said “You look sad. Very sad… And you’re handsome”. For the first time I “examined” her. Funny I didn’t do that all this while ‘cos I had my mind on the just concluded game. She was beautiful, chocolate but NOT my type and I’ll tell you why.

She might have been a counter or to like most would say, a salesgirl, but she wasn’t bad at all. She was pretty, had knockers that could feed all 378 of Angelina Jolie’s adopted kids and had thunder thighs. It had been one of my sexual fantasies to have sex with a tall chic just for the hell of it & this opportunity presented itself. She might not have had a classy job but in the words of the hommie Pa Alfred, “Kpekus na Kpekus”. That wasn’t the problem, though.

The babe was tall for a babe. Extremely tall. I’m talmbout 6’3 or some shit like that.

“Thanks. Had a rough day. Why are you guys still open? It’s almost 11.” I asked.

“We close by 11 exactly. Almost done for today. Here’s your stuff. Have a good rest and visit us again.” she said handing me the bag.

That should have been my cue to leave. El-Farooq should have left. That bastard!

“Umm, so, do I have to come here again if I want to see you or could I just get your number and give you a call?” Not smooth by me but I figured, what the fuck, my night couldn’t get worse.

She smiled and politely said “I just think you’re cute and thought it would be nice to say it. Nothing more. Please, don’t get any ideas.”

surely-you-jest

Again, another cue to leave but I had to be so fucking stupid. “Dooshima,” I said, staring at her name-tag “I think you’re cute too and no, I’m not having any other ideas. I just like to be close friends with people who know my ATM pin. It’s only right, right? I’m El-Farooq, by the way” She smiled for a bit, gave me an ‘I hope you know what you’re signing up for’ look and called out her number in a soft voice.   A couple of phone calls, lots of flirting & a few days later I was driving to her crib to go see her.

First, I couldn’t invite her over to my place ‘cos I didn’t want my hommies laughing at me for attempting to smash someone that could carry me. I got to her crib and was a bit surprised. It was nice. She was obviously living above her means. Or maybe one 6’5 aristo had been hitting that. I don’t know. We got talking and, of course, I had to find out where she got that much money to get a nice apartment in Abuja being a salesgirl & all.

Turns out she was a student and her mum actually owned the Supermarket. She decided to take up a part-time job during the strike to help her mum & keep an eye on the other staff that had no clue she was their boss’ daughter. She helped out anytime she was back from school. I liked that in a girl; ambitious, pretty and didn’t sit on her ass all day waiting for a nigga to take care of her. Or maybe that was ‘cos she was 6’3 and dudes always ran away from her… like I should have done that night.

We talked some more and things got very deep. She told me about how her dad had left them when she was little (‘little’ kor) and how her mum had struggled alone, raising 4 kids, all girls. She said all her life she had longed for a father-figure and how she adored her mum. I held her hands and told her everything was going to be alright & how her mum had done an amazing job raising her. She placed her head on my chest & I could feel myself giggle a bit.

I was like...

I was like…

That must have been a weird ass sight.

Anyway, things heated up as I made some moves on her. She resisted at first but ain’t nobody ever really resisted El-Farooq when they were alone. That shit ain’t never happened. Neeever. I made my trademark move; popping the bra with my right hand, watching the titties bounce out and going straight for the left one. Hers were really beautiful. Like she had other ridiculously big body parts ‘cos she was fucking 6’3 but her titties were beautiful & moderate. I was this close to clapping for her. By far the best titties I had ever laid eyes & mouth on. She moaned and whispered “nibble on it” in my ears & the nigga El-Farooq did.

After a few minutes of fooling around she asked me if I wanted an energy drink and had eaten well before coming. Not to look like an idiot I said yes then walked over to her fridge to get a can of whatever energy drink she had. I must have shrieked when I opened it. I was terrified. Her fridge was stocked with about 20-30 cans of Red Bull. Like, what was this chic up to?! Again, a reason to back out but you know guys and their egos; we don’t ever want to bitch out.

Fridge lookin' at me like...

Fridge lookin’ at me like…

We went to her room & continued our foreplay in there. After a while she stopped me and looked a bit withdrawn. I asked her what the matter was but she didn’t want to say. After a while she opened up. No, not her legs, silly, we’re gonna get there. She told me about how she loved tying guys up while having sex, on some S&M shit. I figured, well that’s not a problem since I liked a lil bit of kinky stuff, I had been tied up once and I loved it. Ah, Uju! God bless her sweet self. Best weekend I ever had in Enugu. Back to Dooshima & I.

I agreed to her tying me up & she did. She tied me up well. Very well. The knots were tight. Very tight. She didn’t have cuffs so she used a tie. Now that I think about it, whose ties were those? She asked me for a safe word. I didn’t like the idea of a safe word. “Safe words are for sissys” I said but she insisted.

“Ride!”

“Ride?”

“Yes, Ride. If I say Ride then you either stop or Ride on” I said jokingly.

She laughed and left the room. I blame my hommie Ikhizama for that stupid thought. I had been jamming some old Nelly albums that he hooked me up with and had been driving to “Ride With Me” on my way to her crib so that was the first word that came to my head.  She returned with a jar of Nutella and opened it. She scooped some with her hand and gently rubbed it over my already erect cock then she began blowing me, passionately licking the damn Nutella off. I was wilding. Dooshima’s head game was on some Play Station 6 shit, some futuristic shit that y’all ain’t ready for. Y’all niggas ain’t even know the half of it. She could suck nails off a wall, that Benue gigantic freak. She blew & blew and then T-Bagged a nigga.

A little tear might have rolled down my left cheek. Best head ever.

baby had me like... just a tear drop

baby had me like… just a tear drop

“Is that a birthmark on your balls?” she said laughing out

“They don’t call me Mr. Birthmark on the Nutsack for nothing” I replied with a proud smirk on my face.

When she was done licking the Nutella off the Colonel she rolled a condom on it and began riding.  I wasn’t really enjoying it, though. I mean, yeah a bit of me was cool with it but her weight, damn, her weight. It gradually went from sex to molestation. I was being used. She just tied me, a nigga shorter than her, up there and did whatever she wanted. I felt abused. I couldn’t take it anymore and my waist was about to give in ‘cos of her damn near 120kg weight. She sensed it and got off my dick and began kissing my chest and sucking my own nipples.

Mahn!

Next thing she got up and, without warning, sat on my face. Fam, I couldn’t breathe. Not like she smelled or none of that, no. In fact, she did smell & taste nice but them thunder thighs tho, way too massive and covered up my whole face. But as a gentleman, I ate her up despite all that. Then she got a bit carried away and started grinding a little. I continued eating her, all this while struggling for proper breath. Then she lost it. Dooshima totally lost it. Home girl started riding my dam face. I was approaching the white light.

“Ride! Ride! Ride!” and she rode even more vigorously.

“No, Ride! RIDE! RIIIDEEE!!” and she continued.

Apparently, that was a shitty choice of a safe word. “Who’s your mummy?” she asked as she rode me on some ‘I own you’ type shit. “What the… My mummy is Mrs. Grace Nwosu and I want my mummy. I’m asthmatic, please. Call her” I screamed out from underneath her but my sorrowful plea was absorbed by her massive thighs.

“Who’s your mummy? Tell me, who’s YOUR MUMMY?” “Mrs. Nwosu! Mrs. Nwosu! Call her! Call her! Her number is 0802574—-“ but Dooshima was already in her zone. “Ride! Ride!” were my feebly yelled last words as my body shook and she, finally coming to her senses, got up.

I woke up fully clothed with a can of Red Bull beside me.

“Drink that. It’ll help you” came a slightly embarrassed voice from across the room.

“What happened? How did my clothes get back on?” I asked, looking around. “Well, you passed out. I cleaned you up and put your clothes on. I couldn’t leave you naked. I’m really sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.” “No, there’s no problem. I umm.. I wasn’t…never mind. I umm, I need to get home.” I said standing up quickly and grabbing my shoes.

“Call me, when you get home. Or you could come over this weekend. I’ll be back from school then” she said as I hurried off.

Calmly walked out of there like...

Calmly walked out of there like…

As I drove off, I did what every sane person who had been molested would do; I blocked her number & deleted her pin. At the moment I’m thinking of skipping town, maybe even moving out of town completely.  Horrific, yes, but that’s one more sexual fantasy off my list, a couple more to go.

-@Monsieur_RJ

A few of my favourite things

“… Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens     

Brown paper packages tied up with strings… “

image

Don’t nobody care about no gotdamn bright kettles. Maria play too much

Everyone has the right to like anything regardless of how zany and Batshit loopy it makes them seem. It’s the exercising of your rights to keep most of these things you like, boxed up in a locked chest, then sealed inside a locked vault, and forgotten inside the unreachable recesses in your minds that keeps most of you on this side of prison bars and/or out of straitjackets. But thankfully, I’m not weird like you guys. So I can and will proceed to share a few of my favourite things with you guys.

1. Old adverts.

image

Everyone loves old Ads. Everyone. Even if you don’t have a TV…or a radio…or a newspaper…or noisy neighbors with any of these things.

2. Being lost in music I mean, picture you’re at your girlfriend’s crib meeting her parents for the first time and then Davido’s “Dami Duro” comes on and My God! You don’t know when you start beating your air drum. Listen, the things music can do to you. I would write a song eulogising this but i’ll get so lost in it that I probably will never complete it image 2. Fridays.  (editor’s note: TheGreyGenesis can’t count) Man, I love Fridays. Especially when it is one of those weeks that seems like the universe paid the office to assasinate you when you came in on Monday. But then, you somehow pull through with your psyche threatening at every other turn to splinter. Then just like that, you realise it’s Thursday. And you’ve almost closed…

image

3. When your Barber shapes you up just right.

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SUSDBSE

Barber so elite, shape up so deluxe. You guys may not quite understand how important barbers are. After mothers and babes, barbers are the only other humans that can turn our heads. pun intended. You never really appreciate your barber until you turn up at work/school on a Monday and people start looking at you like you just crawled out of Jim Iyke’s left nostril. LOL..Make your barber give you wrong cut one time, baba, no one would advice you to cease further dealings. But sonnnn, when they get that trim nice and friction your hair like you can use it to slice onions, then you understand why Solomon hosted the queen of Sheba. (Please don’t try to understand this)

4. Attractive people. Saks and Terdoh, skip this.

5. Girls in Jalabia. Yeah, I’ve always been curious. What is the right way to say that? Is it Jalabia, JalaMIA, or JalaPIA? What language does this word stem from? Is it okay to utilise any of the pronunciations like the way we pronounce that thing as /Boli/ and /Bole/ depending on where we are at the moment? (even though we all know the right pronunciation is /Boli/) But look ladies, all fingers are not equal, if you can’t afford a Maxi dress, who said you must languish in despair? Arise from the ashes oh maiden, arise and proceed to thine nearest Mallam, arriveth there and purchase for thineself a frock of northern heritage, purchase fair maiden, a Jalabia to cover up thine nakedness. even though we really don’t mind 

6. Harmattan. This is actually my favorite season here. Everything is so hot and cold at the same time, and hazy then clear, then dry, then moist. Bipolar season. What’s not to love?

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Harmattan is cruel to some people though. LMAO! You’ll see some people looking so darned ashy. As if they mixed semovita in their lotions.

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Lips looking like shed snakeskin

7. Pringles. For me, Pringles are to movies, what egusi is to Eba. What Agege bread is to Ewa Agoyin. What… Yeah, you get the point.

image

8. The smell of rain before it falls. This is an actual scientifically researched phenomenon. And it has an English name.  It’s called “Petrichor”. You’re welcome.

9. Dope punchlines in movies. 

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Trinity: Dodge this.

10. Those Comebacks that leave the recipient like…

wpid-13901678361

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Passersby are left in shock

11. New Money. Yo. You know those freaks who adore the smell, feel, sight of (and have probably tasted) clean, new, mint money? I may or may not be one of them. I get attached to the appearance of clean money and end up not wanting to spend it.

image

Just want to tie it to a necklace and wear it to work

image

So there you have it guys. My random list of random things I like. Do you also have a list of things you like that you know you’ll never say out loud because you don’t want to be lynched or labelled as a witch? Comment with your list. We promise we won’t immediately report you to the police. 🙂

Grey Out

Surulere

Started from the bottom now we’re where?

The other day, I was surfing my Instagram page, doing my best not to be led down the path of hell by the images these women so happily post. Yes, I don’t know how they appeared on my feed. No, I didn’t follow them. Yes, you’re stupid for asking this question in your mind.

So while I was there looking for pictures to like; seeing as I’m a nice guy like that, I came across a trend. This nigga Don Jazzy (who I didn’t follow because he shared random credit one time) was doing some picture collage type thing and was tagging it #Surulere. JOSEPH, MARY AND MORUFU!!! The pictures I saw yeah, Lord, if there’s another movie for “Transformers”, they should use those guys and not robots.

I’m not going to talk about those guys tho, I don’t know the annointing that came upon me but sha, a certain spirit did. So I got this revelation and this post was birthed. We’re just gon look at our celebrities and form an opinion shall we?

Let’s start with omo baba olowo aka My dimples are so deep aka I don’t know what happened to my voice, it’s not like I’ve ever been a conductor aka Davido.  For those of you who doubted that Davido has always been a ‘big boy’ aka ‘a boy living large’, check this out.

davido

homeboy so fat, dimples were covered up

Can you see now that this nigga been fresh out long before being fresh out became a thing?  But then something happened! David decided that he needed to break free from the sheltered life and mix with the niggas on the outside. He wanted to experience the thrill that came with chasing tyres down the road wearing multi-coloured pant, the joy of designing your own kite using brooms, thread and white nylon. And so David ventured out of the Adeleke mansion and became one of the area boys.

He even became black

davido2

It was as a result of this venture that Mr David released the song “Dami Duro” chronicling his struggle with his parents for independence. This was of course after he shared with us details of the days when he was broke on “back when” These days Otunba David is chopping life ‘aye’

Let’s talk about 2face.

2Face-

See that tie? If you look closely, you’d recognize it as the one used to hang Karl Grossman in 1863  The story of 2face is not complete without a mention of the platashun boiz (They couldn’t spell so accept it like that) So yeah, 2baba started off as headmaster of a girls’ school as the picture shows. He however had to leave when the students mysteriously started getting preggers. That’s how bros met one shady guy; black face by name and that one introduced him to music saying they could become great.

2face2

Black face bought 2face a copy of Hip Hop World and the rest they say is history.

2baba aka Innocent aka 2face (Do you see the oxymoron?) became the biggest name in the music business. How did he do it? By shouting “NOTTIN DEY HAPPEN!” getting his neck snapped by robbers and ensuring that more women got blessed with the fruit of the womb. You people think that African queen song wasn’t planned? Baba sang one song and used many women for the video and those ones were there feeling frisky.

Wan de we shall really understand the story of Mr Coal.

DPrince-and-Wande-Coal

From Mushin to Mo-hits to Mr Biggs. The black dayamon kept growing. Please look at this picture and tell me Mo- hits have not done their share of community service. The story of wande starts from the school of Unilag where he danced to the tune of the piper. It’s like the piper was D’banj and the pipe was really the harmonica, as the lord planned it sha, that’s how wande and his babe denrele were recruited as video vixens for D’banjs “why me?” and before we knew it, bobo don blow (literally). Anyway, Wande’s light kept on shining brighter and brighter although this shining didn’t reflect on his person. no offense intended but doesn’t this remind you (sometimes) of W ceezy?

Amala

Basketmouth

I doubt anyone would have considered that this nigga would have a bright future. C’mon, homeboy looked like your regular crime fighter star actor and to make it sadder, he’s from Benin. Like everyone knows Benin niggas don’t smile. I mean look at this guy…

ba

It therefore came as a shocker later on to realize that this bros would build a very profiting career in comedy. No jokes! Well yeah, there were jokes but who woulda thunk it? Basket makes so much money at his shows, it’s not even funny. I mean, it’s not a laughing matter. You sha know what I mean. He’s cleaned up major too and that’s a good thing atink.

BASKET

Wizkid

Just when we thought we had learned all the letters of the alphabets, this smallie from ojuelegba shitta comes with ground breaking revelation that you can actually joggle the letter ”I” and “h” Hi mean, we couldn’t tell hif hit was “na you dey high me” or “na you dey eye me” Anyway, this kid (not so sure about the wiz part) has come a long way. Omeboy now looks fretch and clean, dropping its with every release like hit’s nothing.

surulere-wizkid

Let me just stop here tho. You musta noticed I didn’t mention any females yeah? That’s cos I couldn’t even find old pictures. These women have photoshopped their past, they be looking like the present and I couldn’t tell the difference. Anyway guys, we bless God for where we’ve come from and where we’ll get to. There are many others like Iyanya, Eyes Prince, Don Jazzy but space wouldn’t allow me go further.

Fuck space.

It’s not like i have beef with Iyanya but this nigga really does look like  a bottle of maltina. Homeboy look like you can use him to pound yam successfully. Chill, I know there are niggas that look good buff and all that, but c’mon all calabar boys are naturally buff. Then Iyanya won project fame or something and decided he was going to get buffer. Then everywhere he is, he will just be removing shirt because the shirt offended him and hindered his progress.  mtscheeeew

iyanya-sexy

Ice-Prince-

Pause for a minute and observe Ice Prince Zamani. Well, nigga on the left is ordinary Panshak Zamani before the fame, fortune and fashion sense came upon him. Homeboy steady wearing agbadas in the name of shirts. Look, I could do this all day but I don’t want my picture to arise someday (Yes, I’m going to be famous) so I’m going to behave myself and hit the exit right about now.

You got some #Surulere pictures, feel free to share.

#Surulere

Banter

Sirkastiq: Just in case you don’t know, today is a very special day in history. No not because it’s World Wildlife day (where we celebrate ‘people’ like Terdoh)

Terdoh: Your ancestors are wildlife heroes

Sirkastiq: Don’t interrupt me nigga, I’m trying to share history with these wonderful people

Terdoh: You’re still an animal tho…

Sirkastiq: See, behaviour like this only buttresses my point. Anyway, I was saying…

*click*

Sirkastiq: Yo Dee, can you maybe put the phone down and take your selfies later? I’m trying to communicate here

Grey: *click click* I’m trying to get the best angle yo

dee

Terdoh: I don’t know why you’re even bothering, Ellen has won at selfies.

Grey: Bradley Cooper you mean…

Terdoh: Well, Ellen tweeted it first and tagged it the Best Photo ever liveth

Grey: Ellen is a prophet

Terdoh: And she listens to Olamide

Grey: Brad gets no love.

Terdoh: Well…

Sirkastiq: Hellooooo, so I was telling you guys how today is a special day in history…

Grey: 2.6 million RTs and counting

Capture

Terdoh: YOOOOO!!! I was trying to find out what was special about the picture

Grey: I mean no cleavage, tongue, filters and none of them was looking at the floor the way our Nigerian girls do

Terdoh: Don’t hate, most of them are probably looking for their dignity…Or virginity

Grey: WHOA!!!

Sirkastiq: Can you two nitwits just allow me share with these people why today is…

Terdoh: Yo Dee, you heard DiCaprio didn’t win at the Oscars right?

Grey: Well, I saw that one coming

Terdoh: You did? How? I mean homeboy has been in more dope movies than niggas been in Rihanna’s nookie

Grey: WHOA!!!

Terdoh: Y’all just want Leo to win cos he ain’t never won nothing. The Oscars don’t work like that ma nigga

Grey: Maybe if Leo acted as some guy that has suffered then he’d be considered. He’s always the slave driver, rich guy, master. Humble yourself and you’ll be exalted.

Capture

Terdoh: Like that guy Lupita

Sirkastiq: Let me know when you guys want me to share why today is history…

Grey: LMAOOOO…You called Lupita a guy

Terdoh: Well, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck and pouts, isn’t it a duck?

Grey: Well, these days, they’re also known as girls.

Terdoh: Our homeboy Chinwetel didn’t win shit too tho.

Grey: No surprise there, the Oscars are a one nigga award per edition show.

Terdoh: And Lupita already took the one for 2014

So um...cleave age?

So um…cleave age?

Grey: Oh yeah…So Tee, what’ve you been up to asides being a jerk on Rounds and on Twitter?

Terdoh: Taking pictures in the shadows.

Grey: So…selfies, cos you’re like N’yongo black.

Terdoh:That’s a new colour right?

Grey: Yeah. Niggas like “I like my women like I like my coffee. N’yongo.”

Sirkastiq: It’s not like I’m here waiting to…

Grey: Sometimes I wonder about your sanity.

Terdoh: Why do I think you’re talking to yourself?

Grey: We’re probably all the same person, and we’re all mad.

Terdoh: You mean you’re mad?

Grey: I mean, nobody has seen all three of us in the same place yeah?

Terdoh: Hmm….I guess you’re right. We’re probably the same person.

Grey: Aha! I knew it!!!

Terdoh: Knew what? That we’re the same? But if you didn’t know that, who would?

Sirkastiq: Carry on, I’ll just keep this history

Grey: I think Saks wants to say something

Terdoh: He does? Why didn’t he say something since? Smh. Such a nigga

Grey: I wonder as well, Like we’ve just been here being awesome but he didn’t say anything

Terdoh: Alright Saks, what’s on your mind?

Sirkastiq: You’ve got to be kidding me

Terdoh: Look son, we ain’t got all day. You either have something to say or you don’t.

Grey: Saks bout to lose his mind

Terdoh: Mind wey my guy don lose since.

Sirkastiq: *gasp* Well, here goes…

Grey: That’s how I was picking beans the other day and then something hit me

Terdoh: Oh my, bummer it wasn’t a car

Sirkastiq: FUCK YOU GUYS OK!!! FUCK YOU!!!

Grey & Terdoh: Oh my!

Sirkastiq: Ugh!! You know what, I’m just going to share this through writing cos y’all are such bums

Grey: So basically, you’re back to writing?

Terdoh: Whoop-de-doo, TSC is back?

Grey: This is history in the making!! We have never been back before and now on the 3rd day of March 2014, we just came back!!!

Terdoh: Guys, we are back!!! Hi-5 Dee my fellow history maker

Grey & Terdoh: Yo Saks, we just made history…Saks…Saks…