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Since the death of Osama Bin Laden on May 1st 2011 there has been a great global sigh of relief. In America there were huge celebrations and Osama paid his respects at Ground zero to those lives lost there and in the kamikaze planes. The big question is, ‘Is the world really safe now?’
Experts believe that advocates of Osama Bin Laden may be destabilized with his impromptu death. Rudy Guiliani, the former Mayor of New York, however feels that the whole world should be on red alert. I think Osama’s absence simply means there’s one less terrorist on the planet to worry about. There’s a whole lot of psychos out there with a death wish. I just don’t want to be around when there’s a KABOOM!
If you ever wondered what the name of that pink drink in a fancy long bottle was called (you know, the one in all the cool hip hop videos) then wonder no more – It’s called NUVO. It originated in Paris and its a fusion of vodka and french sparkling wine. I think the lure of bottle and the colour is enough to hush any doubt about how well it would taste. So what’s the verdict? I’ll buy one next week from my local liquor store and let you know what I would rate it from 1 – 10. For now, it’s already got 8/10 for appearance and media exposure 😀
Urgh! If you want to see me lose the plot just lock me up in a room with an open bottle of nail varnish. The smell is absolutely horrendous and it gives me a headache after prolonged exposure. I think the only smell that comes close to this is the perfume appropriately named ‘Poison’ by Christian Dior (phwoar!). Surprisingly I don’t mind how it looks once it is applied on a girl’s fingernails/toenails. I also haven’t had any particular adverse reactions to it and so I can’t actually say I’m allergic. Other smells I can’t stand are damp, sweaty socks, old cheese, anything dead and unburied, farts (including my own) and halitosis. What can I say, I have a very sensitive nose!
Here are some pictures I took in a school within Omole Estate (Ikeja, Lagos) where I voted for my preferred presidential candidate. The process could have been handled a whole lot better in my opinion. Accreditation started at 8am and I only spent 5mins to queue and have my index finger marked with green ink. The Polling Officers asked me to come back before 12.30pm in order to cast my vote and so I even came at 11.50am just in case. Lo and behold I was overwhelmed by the hundreds of civilians gathered in the school premises. Accreditation was still going on and eventually voting started by 1pm. It was Senior citizens first (or the aged citizens) and then other voters stepped up to the ballot boxes. Total time spent was just over 2 hours – not too bad I guess. At least I’ve voted and that’s what counts (and I hope they do count it!).
If I could have one last supper before I die then take a look at this delectable, stuffed, assorted, colorful, masterpiece. Make no mistake, I’m not a big fan of the frozen variety but I would like my pizza oven-baked and delivered by an acne-suffering pizza guy. Yes, part of the thrill is that anxious 30-minute wait (It’s worth it). Suddenly you hear a distinct motorcycle revving sound come to a halt outside your door. You’ve been salivating so much that you can almost smell the mozzarella cheese through the keyhole. You open the door and you’re handed a hot box with an Italian surprise on the inside. I wish the pizza guy wouldn’t go on to spoil the moment every time. Rather than say three appropriate words like ‘Enjoy your pizza’ his insensitive response would be, ‘That’ll be £9.99’. See? Insensitive.
Anyway, I could eat pizza for breakfast, lunch and supper. I prefer a thick crust but a thin crust would suffice nicely. Just make sure it’s got a tomato base, lots of cheese, mushrooms, green, red and yellow peppers, and an assortment of meats. A little barbecue dip and a chilled glass of lemon ice tea would bring this last supper an inch closer to perfection. All I would need now is an angel who would tell me that there had been a terrible mix-up and that I wasn’t having my last supper after all (Goodbye Indigestion, Phew!)
Back in 2006 I was at Vauxhall tube station in London waiting for my friend to purchase his train ticket. It was a busy afternoon like any other with all the human traffic rushing to and fro in front of me. As I waited by the side of the short queue at the ticket booth, a backpacker walked up to me and asked me if I needed a ticket. She was dressed in khaki trousers, a sleeveless top and her hair was dark brown, long and curly – she was beautiful…
She told me that she had these extra weekend travel tickets which she didn’t need. I already had my weekend travel tickets and getting another for free was of no benefit to me either. I told her politely that I didn’t need the free ticket, to which she smiled and hurried off to the descending escalator. My friend whom I had been waiting had must the whole show and after I told him what happened he said, “I think she likes you. You should’ve taken her number, man”. I didn’t believe him. But when he asked why of all the commuters she came up to me I was stunned. Without further delay I ran down the escalator to catch up with her. She was boarding the train and I jumped in – my friend managed to catch up too (but he was the last person on my mind at that point). I approached her, she smiled, I gave her my number and she said she knew to London so she didn’t have a mobile number. I learnt she was doing a short course before returning to Germany where she’s from. She was 5’10 (yes, without heels! and I’m 5’11 by the way). My friend and I got off the next stop and we said our goodbyes…hoping that she would call me.
2 days later on a Sunday afternoon I got the phone call I was eagerly waiting for. I was nervous, I had knots in my tummy and my palms got sweaty as we spoke. I asked if we could meet up that evening for a few drinks (as you do when you’re in London). We met up at a classy bar in Central London and had a few cocktails…nothing too mild of course. Unfortunately we got so carried away that we didn’t realize that she had missed the last train to her friend’s place where she lodged. It was almost 12 midnight and I wasn’t comfortable with her roaming unfamiliar territory. She wasn’t even used to the night buses and was worried she would miss her stop. I did what any gentleman would do – I offered to let her sleep at my place – She agreed. I got ready to sleep on the couch like any gentleman would do – She disagreed (Huh?). She didn’t want to be more of inconvenience than she claimed she already was. Well, I did have to go to work the next day so maybe she had a point. I got under the covers next to her and on this cool October night we spooned. You know the OTLTA cliché? One Thing Led To Another – well, you can insert that here.
That was one of the strangest things that has ever happened to me in the course of using public transportation. You sometimes hear about these weird encounters but you never think it’ll happen to you. By the way, I hope you didn’t try to click on the *here* after the cliché…naughty 😀
I’ve always been drawn to the number 7. I was born on the 7th of November (Strangely enough my two younger sisters were born on the 27th of June and 7th of October respectively). There’s a 7 in my year of birth too but I’m not saying much more about that. My mobile number MUST have at least a 7 in it else I’m not using that line. Maybe I just feel it’s a lucky number…Maybe it’s much more significant than that. After all, God made full use of 7 days and not 8 days (Created the heavens, earth, animals, man and rested on the 7th day). It’s even kind of sad that when I came 7th out of 30 pupils in one of my primary school examinations I was elated – my parents weren’t. Of course, when the movie SE7EN (with Brad Pitt, Morgan Freeman and Kevin Spacey) hit the theatres I was more than curious. If you told me to pick any number from one to ten I would most certainly pick 7. I always picked a 7 or a number that had a 7 in it when I used to play the UK National Lottery – I’ve won 4 cash prizes: 10 sterling pounds three times and 50 sterling pounds (not quite a million but it’s something).
As much as I love the number I don’t plan on having 7 wives or 7 kids. I don’t wish to be 7 years old either. I wouldn’t go as far as changing my name to SEVEN (well maybe SVEN, but everyone would think I’m Swedish and that’s misleading). I do wish however my shoe size was a UK 7…it’s actually a UK 11 😦
What’s your favourite number and why?
– It’s a fault of mine that has resulted in me receiving more evil looks than Adolf Hitler during the Holocaust. I think I learnt the art of sarcasm from watching too much Frasier, Seinfeld and F.R.I.E.N.D.S. I probably have fewer friends now because I may have taken it too far. But I believe Sarcasm (if well-timed) is the spice of life. I mean, if someone wakes you up in the middle of the night with a phone call and the caller asks, ‘Are you awake?‘ then rather than respond with a predictable and boring ‘Yes‘ try something creative like ‘No, I’m talking to you with my eyes closed‘ or ‘Yeah, some idiot called me a minute before you did but anyway, please continue…‘
Sarcasm could be subtle and it could be violent. I guess the issue is whether the recipient is able to handle it. Some people are easily offended by even the slightest hint of sarcasm, especially if there are others who laugh at the victim’s expense. My office is a breeding ground for Sarcasm. The opportunities to unleash a mouthful of venomous wit are virtually endless. Exhibit A:
‘Are you busy right now?’
‘No, I’m just faffing around on Facebook, Twitter and YouTube, and hoping I don’t get caught’
You may find rare gems at the supermarket. Exhibit B:
‘Would you like a carrier bag?’
‘Yeah, I think it makes carrying all this shopping a lot easier…don’t you?‘
I’ve been at the receiving end of sarcastic daggers and even I had to give in to laughter once I realized I had fallen into the trap of stating the obvious. In recent times I have limited my sarcastic babble to those friends of mine who speak the same lingo. It’s not difficult to master according to this sarcasm tutorial. I love sarcasm so much that I’m going to give you a countdown of my top 10 Masters of Sarcasm:
10. Stewie (the ‘baby’ in Family Guy)
9. Mr. Burns (The Simpsons)
8. Jimmy Carr
7. Jerry Seinfeld (Seinfeld)
6. Mathew Perry/Chandler (Friends)
5. Kelsey Grammer (Frasier)
4. Jay Leno
3. Chelsea Lately
2. Jack Nicholson (As Good As It Gets)
1. My dad – You know what that means 🙂
Click here for Top 20 Insults and Sarcastic Phrases
Sources: Google images, Packingheat.com, Innocentenglish.com
I’ve decided to take on this lofty challenge.. Rather than just thinking about doing it, I’m starting right now. I will be posting on this blog once a week for the rest of 2011.
I know it won’t be easy, but it might be fun, inspiring, awesome and wonderful. Therefore I’m promising to make use of The DailyPost, and the community of other bloggers with similar goals, to help me along the way, including asking for help when I need it and encouraging others when I can.
If you already read my blog, I hope you’ll encourage me with comments and likes, and good will along the way.