Random Ramblings…

Posted: April 14, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

As I type this, I am uber-pissed. You see, I have serious anger issues. My ex-shrink (one in a long line of ex-shrinks) told me once that to get over them, I should try focusing all my thoughts on something else besides the object of my anger. Rick Ross’s beard… Kanye West’s jaw… What inspired Wizkid to sing about “bad guys who know sharp guys, who know some other guys…” what Prince Charles looks like when he’s taking a dump… etc.

So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and part of the things I’ve been thinking about are hermaphrodites. Wait a sec, there’s something wrong with that statement… Oh, I apologise; hermaphrodites aren’t things, they’re people too. They should not be discriminated against. They have male and female sexual organs. Do you have any idea what that means? They get TWICE as much fun than you or I will ever have – if you know what I mean. They can wear whatever the hell they want. If I were one, it’d be just grand, peeing while standing up. No, I’m not saying I would like to be a dude. I’m just saying that would be wonderful. See in Nigeria, if a man’s on a long journey and there are no bathrooms, he looks for a bush, or a gutter, whips it out (but not so far out that you can really see much) and does his thing. Us female folk have to go into the bushes, make sure we’re well covered, especially if we’re wearing trousers, take it down so our derrieres are exposed, and… you know. If it’s a skirt we got on, we could just lift, shift and let ‘er rip. While that’s convenient, it’s embarrassing. Anyways, back to hermaphrodites. They’re natural bisexuals, biologically speaking, so they could swing either way and no one can say they’re gay or lez. The fact that they have both oestrogen and testosterone balancing each other out would make them better, more level-headed leaders. Us regular folk need to deal with that and stop being so frickin’ prejudiced all the time. Hermaphrodites, are GODS. Deal with it.

You know, there’s something that used to really bug me about this whole deal with good and evil. Why, oh why, do we humans feel this constant need to put everything in a box? Seriously! So I thought, and thought, and eureka! It hit me. I came up with a brilliant theory, which I hope will in due time become a law and get everyone to stop tagging things “good” and “evil”. What is this theory of mine? EVIL equals SEXY equals GOOD. If the said evil act is sexy, then automatically, it’s good. Yup. Nope, I’m not blonde. I’m just smoking a Jeffery right now. I know it’s a bit of a stretch – not all evil things can immediately be considered sexy, but with a little creativity and imagination, I’m sure you’d be able to see all things evil are sexy. You see, this is why you should do drugs. Drugs are good for you. Good for your mind. I’m pretty sure that’s the actual message the creators of Barney have been trying to get across to every kid. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I’d have to be on some really fancy drug before I could possibly dream up a character like Barney. To top that off, I’d need to be telepathic to some extent, before I and a bunch of other kids could actually see and hang out with that purple monster at the same time. Or Barney’s really a demon from hell… Hell! I don’t know.

Anyway, back to my theory/law-to-be. A friend of mine suggested I open up a church that teaches the EVIL=SEXY=GOOD as part of its doctrine. Being my uber-vain self, I thought that was a neat idea. I’ll open up the church on the Island in Lagos. There are lots of people with loads of money and very guilty consciences who need some comforting and reassurance that they won’t be going to hell (poor bastards). I would be a reverend of sorts. I imagine confessions would go something like this:

RICH POOR BASTARD: Bless me Mother, for I have sinned. It has been two months since my last confession.
ME: And what is it you have done, my child?
RPB: I promoted this lady – Shannon – who just started working at my company last week over another employee of mine Mr. Browne, whose promotion is five years overdue.
ME: Was she sexy?
RPB: H-h-huh…?
ME: Answer wisely son. Remember the Lord has given me the power to decide whom he will let into heaven, and whom he will not.
RPB: Umm…
ME: Did your Peter want to enter the Pearly Gates, my son?
RPB: Y-y-yes, Reverend Moth…
ME: Do NOT call me Reverend Mother. I would rather you call me “Sexy Mama”. And ye have not sinned, my son. Nay. For thine actions were prompted by feelings of sexiness, inspired by a sexy object. That which you think is evil, is in fact, sexy. Ergo, it is good. Go my son, and thinketh thou not that thou art a sinner no more. Um… Just make sure you drop a nice fat check of thirty grand on your way out.
RPB: Yes. Thank you, Rev…. Sexy Mama.
Syllogism. Gotta love it. Thank goodness I paid attention in Philosophy 101. I guess four years in the University of Nigeria ain’t such a waste. I guess.
Man… I am so thirsty right now. I’d give anything to drink and drink and never stop. I wish I had mouths all over me so I could drink as many things as I wanted to at the same time. Trouble with all that drinking is I’d need probably twice as many orifices to pass out my pee from… or… wait a minute! I could attach a pipe to my you-know-what and have the other end in the toilet bowl while I lie on my bed watching one episode of Ed, Edd & Eddy over and over.

(Of course I hate the show. It’s not the show I enjoy… it’s the fact that I’m lowering my IQ/killing brain cells that’s divinely orgasmic. And of course the fact that there’s a Jeffery dangling out the side of my mouth. It makes the show a lot more fun) That way I could drink and piss whenever I wanted. Babies… they have it good… Pee and shite when they want to… Dontcha just hate ‘em? No, I do not hate kids. You were one too, once upon a time, you eejit. Okay, I’m obviously outta material. I think I’ll end now and go figure out how to make the orifice contraption work. On a second thought… maybe I’ll just do the normal thing, head off to the bathroom… Nah… boring. I hate convention. I’ll just pee, and lie here in my pee. Yes. Who says people in their twenties can’t do that? Who makes those rules? I will NOT be told what I can and can not do! FIGHT THE MACHINE…!

Okay, I really gotta go. Now PISS off.

Authored by Vanessa

Vanessa is one of our admins here at “La Critique”  and can be reached at dat_nutty_gal@yahoo.com

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Comments
  1. blacklola says:

    Vanessa, You’re totally crazy! I abso-f***kin-lutely love this piece. Wuz laughin all the way. Thumbs up! and you’s one crazy gal

  2. Don says:

    this is cool love it. gat nice sarcastic point of view…

  3. FlyyNess says:

    El Black , Don, Thanks!

  4. jide lawal says:

    this really cracked me up….nice one

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