Posts Tagged ‘Life’

This is going to be the most boring piece of shit you’ve ever read in your life. So do yourself a huge favour and stop reading right now.

Still here? Toh. I already warned you sha.

Fact is I have absolutely nothing to say. It is my sincere hope that you keep this fact stuck in your head as you read. Since you’ve insisted.

I have nothing relevant to say. Except that I hate life. And I sure as fuck hate those fucks at GTB for closing my account without my permission.

In fact, my hatred is so unconditional, so expansive, that I hate the entire banking system. Because just once, ONCE, I would like to win Diamond Bank’s “Salary for Life,” but have I? Nooooo. Just once I wanna be one of those lucky schmucks that suddenly find the atm’s still paying even though there’s nothing in their bank accounts. But has that happened? Nooooo.

Yes, you guessed it. I’m broke. Hey whaddayaknow? Something to talk about. Let me resume boring you in earnest. What is to follow is an argument for why I am certain that life has been precisely engineered to shove it’s huge fat penis in your arse, ram it over and over, fill it with gay little sea-men and not even thank you for allowing it pleasure itself with your anus. Horrible image right? You’re welcome. You think life’s a bitch? No. Life’s a raging hermaphrodite with a dick the size of the washington monument. And life’s always horny. Horny for anal. You’re welcome, again.

I remember when I was about thirteen or fourteen or something-teen – I don’t know, I don’t remember, I don’t give a shit – when I bought several crates of coca-cola and sprite and fanta, just so I could have the crown covers, put them into envelopes, and then drop them at designated shops, so the trucks could take said envelopes back to the company, so I could win a truck load of money. That’s a lotta “so’s”. Then I’d religiously watch the game show, as all the idiots would pick envelopes only on one side, leaving whole sections of the hundreds of thousands of envelopes on the floor untouched. Drove me nuts! I would scream at them repeatedly, through my tv screen, that my envelopes were in PRECISELY those sections they left untouched. But the bitches and sons of bitches would do the same shit, every day.

Now I think of it, who’s to say the people at the shops didn’t just take out my crown covers when I’d left and put it in their own envelopes with their names on it? No. I didn’t think of that. Because I was just so fucking naiive. And I still am, apparently. This pisses me off. I want to hate myself for it, but it’s so hard too, because I’m so awesome, so I love myself. Which is exactly why I hate myself. No, I’m not confused.

But you have to give me points for at least being an optimist. Right after the coca cola scam – or before, I don’t know, I don’t remember, I don’t give a shit – was the lotto. Oh the lotto. I was a lot smarter about it this time. Technically, I got smarter after playing at least a dozen number sequences but hey, at least I got smarter, right?

I went online. I found a website where I could ask free psychic questions. I didn’t have a credit card, so I couldn’t pay, which meant my answers would be incomplete. So I asked what the winning numbers for the week would be. The dude gave me only three, and I needed at least four to actually win something. Three… Four… I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t give a shit. So I created another free profile and asked the same question again, thinking I’d get another psychic or something who’d tell me the rest. Unfortunately, the dude was on to me. (Because, psychic, duh!) So he told me I wasn’t an idiot in a way that diplomatically pointed out how much of an idiot I was. I left the cyber cafe, pissed off, and calmed myself down by saying he was probably just a phony.

Went home. Then it was show time. Those three numbers? They were spot on. In other words my darlings, life had just analysed me again.

My friends – oh wait, I have no friends – my… readers … whatever you call yourselves, the truth is, I have a million and one stories as to why I am convinced that life IS an analyst prick- every punani intended. Only nani is your arse. I’m thinking however that I should save these stories for another trashicle. If I still feel inclined to share. I’m übermercurial, so Ra only knows if there’ll be a sequel.

I mean yeah sometimes life is sweet and all. HeShe – yes HeShe, since life’s an hermahrodite too, remember? Being a bitch with such a huge vuvuzela? HeShe will hold you, cuddle you, whisper sweet nothing’s into your ear, nibble, tickle, blow softly, hold you, spank you lightly, lick off whipped cream and nutella off your preferred parts, wrap HisHer arms around you… and then just when you’re not looking…

There’s something sticking out your mouth.

And it got in from your anus.

The End.

Authored by Vanessa (@VanessaKanu)
Vanessa is one of our admins at La Critique and can be reached at Vanessakanu@ymail.com

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What We Are Missing

Posted: April 6, 2013 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

Ever imagined what life would be like in the garden of Eden? Well, I have and in my head it’s super cool.. just too cool *wipes tears*. I’m sure I’m not alone, some of you have also pictured what we’d be doing now if we were still in the garden all naked and shii 😉 (no dirty thoughts now *adjusts halo*). Well, I cooked up a few awesome assumptions in my head.

      Top on the list (yes! this is the one that saddens me the most about this life), there would be no need for any formal education whatsoever! Like no need for school; classes, tests, exams and the depression that comes with the whole thing. No lecturers that make you doubt the existence of your brain, no having to study all the time and sometimes the studying won’t even pay off (spirits from the village (-__-). Along with the school part is the fact that there would be no need for job hunting. It’s crazy really how these people know most of the people searching for jobs are fresh graduates and they’ll be asking for 5 years experience, where’s the experience supposed to come from if you can’t get the job in the first place? No boss that makes you contemplate murder, and no need to lose your dignity over some figures, none of that in the garden of Eden. There might not even be any need to work. just eat and sleep all you want! I’m sure there would be no weight criticism in the garden so fatties like me don’t need to stay off anything, eat anything and everything… oh my *drools* (♥⌣♥). Back to the matter * in Wizkid’s voice*

      No need for electricity (to a Nigerian, that means no suffering). Really! Imagine a world where PHCN has got nothing on us, because we don’t even need their measly service. (No power for about a week now (⌣́_⌣̀) )
      Oh yeah one of the most heartbreaking of them all when I think of it, in the garden of Eden, no childbirth pains. I remember when I was younger I wanted to be a nun so bad, not because I didn’t want to be with someone for the rest of my life (I mean who would watch Titanic and not want to fall in love?), but because I wanted to escape it. In Eden it would probably just be “hold on the baby’s coming” *2 seconds later* “you were saying?”. Eve why??? (۳º̩̩́_º̩̩̀)۳.

      People, in the garden of Eden there would be no cars, hence no traffic. Imagine life without traffic, Lagos traffic especially. Lagos traffic makes me think about my life, every single time. I just stare and wallow in mistakes and sadness and all that, None of that in Eden. 😦

     Errr I also assume that since we’d be all innocent and stuff, you’ll probably just grow up, have feelings for someone and marry the person, no complications, boy issues and all that. And maybe it’ll be perfectly normal for women to make the first move too and the man can’t turn her down because we’d all love each other (˘⌣˘ʃƪ). Note to the one that got away: in Eden, we’d have been together forever with 3 kids *sniffs* … or better still, I’d be married to Channing Tatum. Oh my *swoons*

    We wouldn’t need money. Do you have any idea how amazing that would have been? Practically everything we do revolves around the urge to make money. We need it for everything. It’s the reason I’m still in school (dad, hope you’re not reading this?). It’s the reason for all the hard work. I think I say “I need money” more than I say anything else. All the stuff we need money for would be taken care of already.

    There would be no government, just God and angels I presume. The average Nigerian somehow finds a way to blame the government for every single problem of his and those in power make it so easy too. There would be no intoxicated, pot bellied guy that wakes up one day and decides to change the classy name of a federal university to… well y’all know what happened.

    We’d all probably have what we call superpowers right now. Like it’d be normal for everyone to fly when you don’t want to walk, teleport, pass through objects and so on. The number of times I’ve tried to move objects with my mind is so embarrassing :(.

    Music would be provided by the angels so these artists won’t be able to torture us the way they do, singing about booty and money and popping bottles and all that crap.
    Icing on the cake, death will have nothing on us! Although I’m sure people like me would get bored but then it’s better than having to go through one of those Final Destination types of death *shivers* I’d rather be bored for eternity please.
    *snaps back to reality* I need a job. Bye folks 😀

Authored by Kanyinsola (@MsTeeDairo)

Kanyinsola’s one of our authors here at La Critique and runs her own blog at http://whisperingnotes.wordpress.com.

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