I was really bored and thought of writing you this poem about being a jerk.

It's a shame.
I had just gotten better at pretending I dreamt of you
The night before or the day after
I would have to force myself to send for you

Imagine.
I even learnt how to hold your name
on the tip of my twisted tongue,
But only just long enough to convince myself
That it still sounded the same
(Tell me, Was I wrong?)

But now,
I'm a much better liar (and BSer) than you left me
Bold enough to paint this illusion
with invisible brush strokes
a prog-art pantomime called 'The intrusion
Of a stolen, not lost soul!'
For you I subtitled it 'The day you left me'

You left me?
Or was it the other way round?
You could reverse time and freeze frames
But be cautious not to unmute the sound
So we can both pretend the words we mouth
Are not in vain.

Ah!
I impress myself with this self sacrifice
You could call me a jerk (but never a heart-breaker.
Don't compare me to a man on a rampage,
For I have much better aim).
See, I only let you burn the bridges
'cause one of us had to
No understudy could earn such reviews
It may be news to you
But with the years of training I've had
I'm better suited for playing the victim

So.
I hope you find this and file it
Somewhere between akward silences,
The neighbours childrens shoe sizes,
And other peoples favourite songs

The end.
Or in your own words, "It's over"
(And the best part of it for me was writing this poem)
I really am a jerk.
(And I'll feel much better if someone else knew it)
Here's to wishing I'll get a second chance to prove it.

It starts with a 'B' or a 'Narf!'

Narf! Is updating your blog meant to feel like such a chore? Well...it may just have something to do with the fact that i've become such a comment whore of late! (I'm actually on the verge of asking a fellow blogger to let me move into their comment page. Any takers?) I've actually forgotten what this whole blog thing is about (again) (now that i no longer have a cause or an ideology or even anything interesting to blog about - did I ever?).
Narf! I hate blogging about blogging! And... I'm scared of site meters, especially those ones with the world map where the red dots grow, I cant help but notice when the largest ones seems to hover over lagos. That scares the me out of me like "Did I do that all by my little self? Am I a cyber-stalker? Even though I know I'm not the only blogger in Lagos why do I feel so guilty?". Liberate yourself - take down the site meters burn the maps! be free! Its the inbuilt counter on your profile that really matters! If you won't do it for yourself at least do it for me! And If google are really paying you for those ads spread the love!
God I'm hungry! I may just be on the verge of an eating-disorder. Considering the fact that I'm a sack of bones and hair everyone would probably be happy for me just before the obesity sets in. This desire to stuff my face was caused by Christian Bale's potrayal of really skinny ('cause he hadn't slept in a year...hmmm?) dude Trevor Reznik in The Machinist (A film I'm currently obsesed with and I've watched at least 5 times since last friday - I wonder how i make the time?)... Wait lemme find a picture, as they say they're worth a million (or is that a thousand) words and i have no plans of writing that much tonite - I've promised myself i'll be in bed by 2 a.m. What? Oh yeah the picture:
There's this one line in the movie that makes me want to eat everything in sight: "If you were any thinner you wouldn't exist". I'm still hungry. I won't spoil this film for anyone who hasn't seen it (but I'll spoil X3 - Cyclops dies so does prof. X and I shed a tear for the rape of the Marvel universe and the insulting compression of Stan Lee's genius. Sorry...too late for a spoiler warning, shey. sorry again.) I'll just say its the best thing I've seen since 'Lost in Translation'...But I'll just like to know why I never heard of this film when everytime Renee Zwhatshernameagain has to put on the pounds for Bridget Jones the news is everywhere!
Narf! I hate Khaki! I always have, ever since Ijanikin (Please click on strange ass word to your left- your other left-to read a classic post by Mr. Delot about my Alma Mata-the strange word- it brought a flood of memories and reminded me why plastic buckets were so sacred. I'll like to thank Delot and have a moment of silence for my lost innocence...) and now I face the prospects of having to wear it again (and I'm not talking about some fancy stuff from GAP here). I had to got to the other school I went to (the university of lagos is not my Alma Mata! I just 'went' there for a couple years to get 'ejewcated'), to fill my NYSC form. If you've never heard of it NYSC stands for the National (or is it Nigerian) Youth Service Corp (I think) and it involves spending a year in another state doing Godknowswhat service for the coutry (I won't go into how I don't feel the country is worth serving 'cos I hear patriotic Nigerian bloggers calling for my head already), getting paid a salary that laughs at itself soon as you cash it and wearing khaki. I hear its the last port of call for people that 'didnt get none' in uni, I was no don juan myself but i'll pass on all that out of state action to get on with my life in ways in which I see fit. But alas, the life i just claimed isnt actually mine since my parents plc. own a 99.75% (I'll explain the math someday) stake in it...
Narf!...too be continued...not! Look at the time. I've got people to see 2mrw/2day peace!

A -Z Meme

Mona tagged me and now i'm blogging again. i'm not sure what the rules are but the bold stuff stay:

Accent – Raw Nigerian - flexible for public speaking (But theres this british voice in my head with a "Honey, we're having Dinner with the Cholomondeleys!" accent... Get out of my head!!! and take ur ghenien (sic) friend with you!!!)
Booze – A stout man, Beer no spirits...ever/ (unless ure driving and its ur car/ and u wont mind the smell of my puke...happily ever after) / Tusker, beautiful tusker, whenever i dream of kenya
Chore I hate – Hate is a very strong word
Dogs/Cats – cats
Essential electronics – PC/Laptop and mobile phone (to tell the time and play this silly game) and a walkman (cassette- 'cause i'm old school like that')
Favourite Perfume – Gucci Rush(smells like the hybrid of weed and a brand new car)
Gold/Silver – White Gold (aha!)
Hometown – Lagos
Insomnia – No not the 'I' word!
Job Title – Human
Kids – Like what?
Living arrangements – on the couch mostly
Most admired trait – In others- selflessness. In self- whatever it is that keeps me sane
Number of sexual partners – Real or virtual?
Overnight hospital stays – One.
Phobia – Agrizoophobia, Dromophobia (kind of), Iatrophobia, Myxophobia (no, i didnt spend 20 mins checking this up on The Phobia list)
Quote – 'That shit is pointless like diversity without equality' - Immortal Technique (On quoting smart dead ppl...not!)
Religion – Islam (and it doesnt mean I Self Lord And Master!)
Siblings – Big bro, baby sis - did someone just say middle child syndrome?
Time I usually awake – Lmao! 'Usually' me? 'usually' ha ha ha!
Unusual talent – Produce tears at will by yawning/ yawning at will. (now can i join the x-men?)
Vegetable I refuse to eat – Yet to meet a worthy foe
Worst habit – Sleep deprivation
X-rays – 2 i think.
Yummy foods I make – i make/té the ideal eba (no kokos, no dry bits, not too hard, not too soft - ideal), Bubbulees (i.e rice cooked in a bucket with a boiling ring - a long forgotten boarding house art - requires laundry room, blankets and junior boys as teacher/prefect scouts), do cocktails count? I do this egg thing with milk and...yummy is a relative word, u know!
Zodiac sign – Capricorn

I'm tagging everyone (yes everyone tori) on my favourites list. Why tag in 3s?