Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Can Women Drive?

Okay my country people, I know I missed women day or whatever it is called. So I apologize to all grandmothers, great grand mama, mother, aunties, nieces, sisters, fake sisters, blood sisters, girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, wives, ex-wives, sugar mummies etc I know. Approco, I see your eye brow is already raised- did I say all of them are mine? I said the ones I know. Nonsense and fabrication; however, for this reason, this posting of mine shall be the sexist type.

Naturally, I am not given to huge traffic. I live in Houston a city notorious for its rush hour traffic which is even made more deleterious by the long wide roads and the swath of smoking automobiles that form such urban eye sore. I mean, if traffic catches you for NY or London, at least you know you can park and walk or catch public transport. Well in Houston, let us just say pedestrians were not even factored in at the design stage of road construction. Na so for last Friday I wan do some quick waka for peak period I; comes see me see trouble. I was on the toll road, the freer route, and yet a journey of twenty minutes was taking me an hour and a half. In the midst of my frustration, I realized I had maintained a single lane and it appears to be the slowest.

As per a naija man concerned, na so I change lane fast like a sharp man. But before I could complete my maneuver na so this mad person just rush my bumper like say the yansh of my car na ten kobo stripper. In any case, she missed- thank goodness. You see na woman; and as if this has not gotten more ridiculous I drove less than a mile only to see that we all have been delayed by another yeye woman at the head of the traffic queue. Believe you me, this woman was reading a novel and driving. More surprising was that she literarily has stopped moving and everyone else behind her was in stand still. No honking, no bellowing. As you can guess rightly, at least the next two cars behind her were also driven by women; and were each at different stages of distraction. If it was not involved in some serious gist on the phone, it was moving rhapsodically to some music. They think say I get time? As I journeyed home, I looked around me to observe fellow drivers and it appears to me less than 1 out of 5 women driving were concentrating. The rest of the crew were either doing make up, adjusting their hair, talking on the phone, reading novels/books (so ridiculous) or plain gisting with their fellow passenger; so for your viewing pleasure I am including a picture of how a female only used and operated garage looks like that was sent to me by a co-worker. What a wonderful world!

What Happened to Sexy Air Hostesses?
Jesu, I was waiting for my people coming from naija on Saturday when I saw couple of Air hostess coming out from the Arrival Hall. What happened to Air hostess that you can’t have enough of looking at? Ones that make you book a flight you don’t need to take? Like good meals on air travel, beautiful and sexy air hostesses are a thing of yore: a past that we might never see again. Can you believe this; BA even has this 300 lbs plus Air Hostess? Say na wetin? Me I go fear to enter that kind plane o- imagine just five of these jumbo sized air hostesses: the plane is more likely to go down and more so the food in an infinite journey will probably not go round. Okay, just kidding. I got me some love for the obese sisters too. Big girls need love. Abi no be so? Peace.

Summer Reading List: I am compiling my reading list for summer: my peak reading season. I intend to read at least 7 books this time around; I know I am lazy but you know say with this acada plus full time work thing man must chop. I have three books already lined up and ready for kick off after school quiets down a bit in April. I am open to suggestions and I shall update you as I go…here is the current list: Uncle Tom’s Cabin (H. Stowe), Master of the Senate (Biography of LBJ-Robert A. Caro), Beating the Street (Peter Lynch).

Visiting: Houston Museum of Natural Science and Forbidden Gardens this weekend. I shall share pictures if I am allowed to take any.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Suffer Head No Good O!

My country people, may God never make you a carrier of suffer head. The kain tory wey I wan knack una im sweet my belle make I no lie. And I mean am , as I write am. My belle dey sweetie me, because of the gist wey I wan land una.

Na dis morning wey I wake up, I realize say I never cook my lunch for today. Una sabi say, as I be Ijebu man for my papa side seven generations removed: to dey spend my hard earned ewe on top burger and fries no be my idea of enjoyment. In fact, the suffer wey I suffer last week when I skip bringing lunch to work no be small. I mean wetin; fries and double cheese burger go do for African man? No be Lagbaja talk am – put am well, well.

As I come wake up realize am say, dis suffer head go fit continue dis week na im I come find quick solution. I get one correct white soup wey one of my twin sisters knack me (una no abi say eleven of us my mama born the same time? Since im no get equivalent for French una fit calls us deca-plus-one-tuplets). As a Warfarian, when soup dey you are one minute away from nutritional bliss. Na so I knack correct fire for under my gas cooker, boil quick water, add some correct yellow-garri. My Eba was done in few minutes. I come package am with some of my insulation ideas (proprietary- Patent Pending) to keep am warm, carry one better bottle of cold orange juice with my correct spicy white soup with gizzard and beef in it go work.

Una sabi say, when man dey hunger presentation na secondary. Na so dis “The man” work carry me enter post-noon when the hunger don knack me well, well. Nobody tell una broda how to warm the soup quick-quick for the agbero microwave wey dey our pantry area for work. As I come dey settle down, na im I realize say as per African man concerned I don forget to carry cutlery follow body. Wetin concern agbero, with over load? Abi, wetin concern postman with bad news wey dey inside letter? As I reach my desk , open my soup come see me see trouble o. All dis oyinbo people come dey cough like people wey get epilepsy! Na the pepper o my people. Anyway, na so I no even mind them. I shele go wash my hands, settle down like king – consume my Eba like no tomorrow.

Craze people dey look me why I dey use hand- I dey think for my mind say “see this mugus, suffer head go kill una”. Na so one dey chop chips dey think say im dey civilized. As I look im sunken eyes and red nose, na im I realize say a lack Eba consummation is tantamount to suffer head raised to the power of infinity. As I dey use my correct orange juice dey wash down the Eba, na so my mind come reach all of una wey dey chop burger. Suffer head no good o!
Please Sing After Me
O eba, O eba
When Shall I see eba
When shall I see egusi soup
I will never forget pomo...

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Ouch. My teeth!

I am just back from the dentist. And wait a minute- it doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would. I think I was hypnotized. Dad talked about a dentist of his in the UK that used hypnotism. Okay- I guess his type might have been different. You see, I am medic-phobic; whatever that means. I hate going to clinics, hate the way they smell etc. You will think this is not the case given my upbringing. But I will practically do anything to stay out of the clinic.

This usually means that I always need an incentive to see a doctor. There is no better incentive than a combination of pain and hope of seeing a beautiful woman. Oya, judge me- Mr. & Ms. Holier than thou. You no like woman? Okay na man you wan make I like? In any case, I always generally prefer female docki (doctors in a razz way) to the male ones. This is especially true after a weird physical examination experience- the first when I got to the US of A. That gist I shall reserve for later and it shall be told only by popular request. If you like call me racist: all things being equal too, I prefer minority female doctors. “Minority” is PC word for non-white at my neck of the wood. Hence, my GP is a sexy African American woman married to a naija man. Let us just say she knows her stuff- plus: cute nice woman who is a big flirt- can it get better than that?

While I was in naija for Christmas, I started feeling the pangs and pay back for my years of neglect of my dental health. You see, I was one of those kids that will eat the toothpaste rather than use it. You sabi dem, abi? Yes, I mean them- meaning you. As if you no do am. Add this to the fact that I am so scared of being under that their interrogation room like light, then you have a recipe for a dental disaster! So while having my fill of correct suya, biscuit bone, eran Ileya etc. I realized around Christmas that my perfect resilient dentition was not all that anymore. The pain became unbearable when I came back to Houston. So I decided I needed to schedule an appointment to see one of these White Herbalists. After a thorough search that was driven by good practice coupled with the need for a dead drop gorgeous docki I made up my mind.

I mean I was not disappointed when I walked into her practice. A pretty looking Asian lady greeted me: she looks as if she is in her early twenties but I am sure she is older. For a second I thought she will be better suited for one of those Asian Massage parlors (see no evil- I talk am) than just being a dental assistant. But I was in for a surprise. “Hello I am Dr. Tracy your Dental Surgeon- we….” The rest I cannot remember. I was so enthralled, the rest of the words got lost in translation. It looks like I will get double dental work the way it is going. Can you imagine that name too? Tracy: name of a heartbreaker- sounds like Anna Nicole Smith to me.

In no time, Doc Tracy got to work. After the x-ray came the examination when she rattled off some alphanumeric rendition to her assistant- stuff I can never get a handle off and soon confirmed to me that my fate was sealed. My dentition was a project work for final year dental surgeon student: a case study of everything gone awry. According to her, I needed four wisdom tooth extractions (which I will not do), six fillings and one crown; and of course some deep cleaning. I thanked her and scheduled to be back today after of course seeking second opinion: if you know the ways of dentists.

Before I left, she sure went personal as they (single career ladies) always do when you go professional on them (catch me if you can). She asked what I did for a living- I told and then sugar coated it. Shebi you don forget say I be naija man? In any case, just when I was about to step out she made an off the cuff comment to her assistant about being bored this weekend and staying home alone. I ignored it but offered gentlemanly to take her to lunch if my pain disappears by year end due to her hard work. You could see the smirk on her face when she said – “year end!-?” Question or exclamation, I do not know. All I know is that she is game, but I do not intent to fulfill that promise. Not after she has made good from my Insurance and Co-pay. I be mugu? Na me be Bank of America?

I went back today to get my first fillings done; you won’t want to start with the most painful procedure trust me. And it appears it might have gone well. Dental practice is always weird stuff to me. They are doctors, yet they use tools of carpenters. They have their saws, drills, mirror, marker, measuring tape, mitre rule etc. Okay, I know dem no dey call am these names; but I remember Doc. Tracy screwing something in or on my tooth at one point. Ouch! Just pray the anesthesia work; thank God it did. At least I have few hours before it wears out and the aftermath pain hits me for real. I can handle it not to worry. I am numb on the right side where all four fillings were done though.

Anyway, right now I am so hungry but cannot eat. Will do anything for Moi-Moi and ogi. Shebi you are now so Americanized abi na Britico that you cannot even remember what that is again. Custard ko, jelly ni. Omo iya oniru. Nonsense and fabrication

Watched: In pursuit of Happiness- this is a must see movie. This movie wins my Oscar.

Finished Reading: I finally got around finishing Uncle Wole’s memoirs – You must Set Forth at Dawn. Somehow, I had been stuck in the last chapter since November (even after finishing Prince by Machiavelli and Saro Wiwa’s memoirs between then and now). Somehow I wished the story never ended- Uncle Wole sabi gist provided im no introduce dem bombastic oyinbo wey even dey confuse Aunty Liz (i.e. my Cousin- Queen Elizabeth II)

To Finish: The Life of Oluadah Equiano, the African… stuck on this book like Uncle Wole’s …this needs to be done with.


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