SPORTS AND BUTT PIRATES

Hi guys, Sushey’s back. I wrote this sometime last year for a good friend of mine, Adaora. I’m kinda under so much pressure now so i’ll just put it up her for your reading pleasure. Hope you like it…. In fact you get choice? If you no like am, you can like to err… Pray about it. (I kid)

Plus, please read her blog. she hasn’t posted in a while but Sushey thinks it’s an awesome blog all the same. read her stuff here …

Enjoy today’s post!

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Say what now?!

Considering the amount of gay men in the world and the frequency at which people world over are coming out the closet, isn’t it a little worrying that footballers and other sportsmen hardly come out the closet. Does this mean that there are no gay footballers in the English premier League for example? \

I remember the case of the first Black gay English footballer, Justin Fashanu (Nigerian by birth by the way) who decided to come out of the closet in 1990 in an interview with an English tabloid newspaper, The Sun. He got a lot of flack from the colleagues, fans and public commentators alike and was the constant butt of jokes jabbed at his sexuality. In March 1998, he was accused of sexually assaulting a 17 year old boy in Maryland, USA. He returned to London and on the 2nd of May the same year and committed suicide in a London garage he had broken into. His suicide note read thus: “I realised that I had already been presumed guilty. I do not want to give any more embarrassment to my friends and family.”

Did I mention that Justin was the first Black English footballer to command a 1 million Pound transfer fee?

“WHAT A WEIIST!”

Justin, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason why we do not have openly gay men in the sport in England. I can authoritatively reveal to that you there are gay men in the EPL. They are just waiting to retire before they come out of the closet. I know because there are signs that they exist. They give us subliminal messages in every training session and every match. You’ve just gotta open your eyes and see the light.

I have proof.

Soccer first… Football was invented by gay men. Imagine the following scenario:

In 1863, two gay Englishmen sit on a bench in a London park and go: “Let’s start a game which women cannot play. We’ll call it football. We will put 22 scantily clad men in a very large field of green grass and their aim will be to run around kicking the ‘ball(s)’ till they ‘score’ in their opponents goal post.” Remember how short and tight the old soccer jerseys used to be? There you go. Soccer was originally meant to entertain the homosexual man. I said earlier that the signs are there, you’ve just got to smell the coffee. They jump on top of each other all in the name of celebrating goals scored and trophies won and use the opportunity to touch themselves. I am not kidding, it is the truth. They even send out old men to look for young recruits every summer to replenish their gay supply. Why do you think they get paid such high fees? You think it’s just to kick a round leather ball around a patch of green grass for 90 minutes? Think again amigos.

Evidence that soccer is a queer sport

Next up is American football!

With suggestive team names like ‘The Rams’, ‘The Steelers’, ‘The Oilers’ and ‘The Packers’. It’s not too difficult to infer that this is a homosexually inclined sport. What about the concept of the game. Again, it’s a game women don’t play often. The object of the game is to run after and grab a very highly muscled man clutching unto a ‘ball’, wrestle him to the ground and then jump on top of him. All other team mates now jump on top of him too. They only stop when another man in a gay looking fashionable black and white outfit blows a whistle and says they have just ‘scored’. I almost forgot to add, that to play this game you have to be very muscular and fit and then they force you to wear tight fitting brightly coloured uniforms. A quarter back throws the ‘ball’ to the ‘wide receiver’. ..I mean, this sport just screams ~YesHomo!

It's not always about the tackles and the runs...

Alright what about boxing?

Two shirtless muscular men are clad in ‘silk’ shorts and ‘shiny shoes’ decide to clubber themselves into submission to win a belt. A f*cking belt and a purse! Some of the silk shorts are shiny and look half the time like circus outfits.

Wrestling is even worse!!!

The WWE should be the official television program for gay porn stars. I mean how much closer to gay porn can you get? These ones show muscular-buff-mean-thug looking men who have obviously oiled their skins like porn stars in nothing but their briefs acting like they are fighting each other. What riles me is that this act of stupidity excites their gay audience and they call it entertainment. Newsflash: We know you don’t really beat each other, your acting skills suck!

You know the icing on the cake? The stuff that confirms the absolute gayness of the sport is that again, they pretend to be fighting for a bloody shiny belt!!!

Wrestling is the gayest of all sports.

You hear so many gay names like: Tony Atlas, Mike Awesome, Gold dust, Johnny Grunge, (Bodacious) Bob “Spark Plug” Holly, (Badd Ass) Billy Gunn, Grandmaster Sexay, The Honky Tonk Man, Quick Draw Rick McGraw, Scotty 2 Hotty, Knuckleball Schwartz, Samba Simba, etc.

I could go on with the names and I’d have written five thousand words in this post but I’m sure by now you get the drift. There’s this particular wrestler who even got a boner in the ring. He probably forgot to ‘strap’ his tool in the dressing room before going into the ring.

His name?... IRON SHEIK. :I

There are other sports like basketball where they play to win a ring and lawn tennis where they keep grunting like pigs on heat. Sad thing is that with all of these games, the females are in on it too. I am sure that wasn’t the intention of the inventors of these games but women have creeped in to take a place in the grand scheme of things. It’s a gay gay world we live in I tell ya!

N.B I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t add this bit. Ladies, notice how they designed these sports too last so long? It’s so that men will be so occupied watching these games for so long that girlfriends and wives will get pissed off every time it’s played and will eventually leave their men. That way the Homos have a larger supply of single men to choose from. True story people, I read the script. Please use the comment box to state your views.

*Break dances into the sunset*

My name is Larry Sushey and I am immortal.

 

Takalmi- I wouldnt take a walk in some.

Sharrap! I know you have missed me and there’s nothing you can say/do to convince me otherwise. Thou shalt not (˘̯˘ )!
I’ve been so busy with life so much so that I haven’t had time for blogosphere. So when I had a lil’ chat with Tola and she offered to write on here, I jumped on the opportunity like a copper coin on magnet. She writes about shoes. Something that has been on my mind for a bit now… Enjoy!

N.B- Takalmi is Hausa for shoes (I think)
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“There are two kinds of people in this world, my friend; the kind that notice the shoes first and the kind that don’t.” Wise words from Tuco Ramirez (of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly – directed by Firdausi – fame). Today, we are going to talk about shoes; the stiff outer covering for feet. I really don’t know where to start from so I’m going to do what I do best – write nonsense and hope you find the sense and discard the non.
So we are going to start with what shoes are made of. Leather, wood, canvas, rubber, plastic and other petrochemical-derived materials (for more details please go to Wikipedia.com) are materials that are involved in the shoe making process. This post is supposed to be about my take on shoes, so I’m going to select a few types.
Men have no problem when it comes to shoes (or most things in life); most of their shoes are comfortable (or so they look). What, you have your pams, toms, vans, loafers, plimsoles, what else? Bottom line, you guys are happy with your choice of footwear. I really don’t have anything to say under this sub-topic. If you are guy and you want an in-depth write up on this, this is the wrong post.

LADIES!!!! Yes! Wassup y’all. . ok, so I’m not really a girly girl, I wear mostly sandals and I just started wearing shoes at the beginning of this session (October). When the Great Massasushey chose this topic, I was perplexed as to what exactly I would write but I am the Queen of Freestyling (among other things, Subs included). I’m going to start with sandals. I absolutely loooove them; comfortable, pretty, lets your feet breathe, comfortable, doesn’t require much space to pack in a bag, comfortable, FLAT(very important to me), easy to put on (unless u buy the ones with annoying straps), comfortable… what else, comfortable, comfortable… and oh, comfortable.
Peep-toe shoes; in my opinion, the toes that are peeping out are more hurt than those minding their business (this further illustrates that aproko is bad). And some people ‘with toes like pincers’ refuse to spare us and wear this kind of shoes. Like seriously? The only reason I can think of for wearing a peep-toe is maybe because you want to seduce those with toe fetish(es), you know, the mini skirt effect… I can’t even wear my pair if I don’t have nail polish on (yes dear, I have a pair). To cut this story short, your toes shouldn’t be peeping if they are not pretty; and please don’t tell me you are proud of your toes, no one is proud of ugly (and if you are, I’m praying for you right here).

Heels!!! Oh Lord, I still haven’t been able to adjust to this kind. You can call me a failed woman if you want to. Omo, that thing no easy jo! I can’t even wear it for three straight hours (church). My mother says with time, it’ll come to me; it’s not coming. Some of my ‘friends’ have asked me what I’ll wear on my wedding day (assuming I’m going to get married – anyway, refer to the fourth paragraph). They say heels complement an outfit, I say there’s an alternative to everything (ask our dearest muslim brethren, they came up with shisha among other stuff). Besides, I can look just as good in my darling flats. Since I have never won a comfortable pair of heels, I have concluded that heels are worn either by stoics or masochists. I will end here.

Actually, I will NOT end there. I heard platforms are the most comfortable and stilettos are the least. Why would I even want to wear anything named after a dagger? (but I can wear stuff named after a type of fighter sha). Some women are blessed with the gift of wearing heels sha… Lady Gaga for example, that woman is just… she makes it look so easy! With those funny looking stuff she wears *sign of the cross*. You don’t want to be like Onika Maraj; ever notice how she has to hold somebody anytime she’s in heels? Like seriously, it’s not by force. If I had that much money, I’ll have Giuseppe make me a pair of looooovely flats; custom made and all.
This is officially the end of this post.

I’ve always wanted to be a Sushey and now that I’m on a Sushey’s blog, I can’t help but feel elated. Er… I’m also a feature blogger so you can contact me if you want me to write something for you, you have to come up with a topic though. I would like to thank my sis for editing this, me for writing this, Siobhan (I just came up with this name for my laptop, I really wanna be a cool kid) for not shutting down suddenly and deleting all this work, you for reading this, Massasushey for posting this; and anyother person/thing that has made this post possible.
Dear Susheys, I reside in Abuja and it would be an honour if I am made part of your family (one would think that knowing Teni ‘personally’ would make this easier).
And let’s not forget, people, the Firdausi Fone Fund. Please make this #TeamForeverAlone member happy by donating to the cause of the purchase of a pink Samsung Galaxy Note.

Thank you and God bless.
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Boys have ugly shoes too babe! Didn’t you read “The Last Mohican?” That was the 2nd post ever on this blog I think…
Anyway, much ado about shoes. Use the comment section to share your experiences on any ‘shoe’ experiences.

Plus, do y’all think Tola should be a Sushey?! =D. Contact her on twitter; @Phydaursi.

Immortal Larry Sushey.

 

The Power of Fish

Much ado about fish

As a child, i remember one fateful day. Mother had the previous night been frying some fish which was to be used for stew the next day.  I remember the aroma as in invaded my nostrils and in a zombie-like fashion, i strolled out of the room towards the kitchen and attempted to grab a piece. Only a stinging slap to the back propelled me back to reality. Mama saved me or rather, she saved her fish.

Fast forward to the next day after school, the maid had gone to play downstairs as usual and i strolled into the kitchen. The ‘spirit’ possessed me again and I only regained control over my body after a large piece of fish had been devoured. I swear i was ‘shocked’. Anyway, mother returns and found out that a piece of fish was missing. The woman; I don’t know whether she counted the fish or maybe by chance, i had taken the largest piece which was of course reserved for ‘daddy’. I was accused of stealing fish and given the beating of my life. I told them i didn’t steal it and only ‘took’ it but all my pleas fell on deaf ears. I knew they weren’t joking when they brought out a used tyre, and petrol and were about to set me ablaze… Anyway, i’m alive today. That story is for another day. All i know is that fish is very powerful.

This post is not intended to be funny so please don’t laugh. I am serious to the letter! Read the following with rapt attention.

It’s been a while I shared wisdom up in here. I’ve been telling cool stories for the last couple of posts so it’s time to get serious. All play and no work makes Jack a dullard. Today, i proffer to you a solution to one of Nigeria’s and in fact black Africa’s major problems. That problem is not food ala fish smart ass! It’s….  power.

I bring to you a sustainable, natural, cheap and renewable power source.  The electric fish.

Did you know that an electric eel can produce very strong electricity to shock/stun or even kill large animals? In fact, it has been reported that in strongly electric fishes, such as the electric eel, electric catfish, and electric rays, the electric organ is huge containing numerous charge producing cells called electrocytes . So numerous that their discharge voltage can reach as high as 600 volts! Under the right conditions, A 30volt charge is enough to kill one fully grown man.

Now according to Wikipedia, there are three hundred and forty eight (348) species of electric fish. Not all of these fish can generate electricity; some which can only detect electric fields are also referred to as being electric. Most of the world’s electric fish live in the tropical rivers of Africa and South America and only a fraction live in the ocean. This is captured effectively by Moller in the figure below:

Distribution of electric fish by habitat

Take a critical look at the picture above. Notice that the strongly electric intermittent fish are found mostly around West Africa and the Northern axis of South America. Zooming further in, the zone where you have the “Malapterus” species happens to include parts of north western Nigeria. Sokoto, Kebbi, Zamfara and Niger states can make themselves useful instead of being complete weists. Now take a moment to ponder this. Let’s pick a state, say Lagos. The governor can just decide to evacuate an entire suburb of Lagos. He can take the Ogba/Iju axis all the way to Akute and evacuate the people there to Ogun state or something. Ogun state needs more people. You can then convert the whole area into some sort of industrial fish farm. Imagine a  large lake filled with ‘Malapteruruses’ and ‘Torpedoes’ and ‘Astroscopuses’ and ‘Electrophoruses’, the latter three imported from the ocean and South America swimming in separate or similar little tanks or ponds and their electricity harvested for general consumption. Add that to the Hydro electricity generated by the turbines in Kainji and the numerous power generating gas plants and we have another viable option here. We could even sell the electricity in cute little car battery sized aquaria with a few of these fishes in them and have them in every home.

I'd have two of these...

Good thing is that they’ll also have aesthetic value. So that’ll be like killing two birds with one stone. Plus guess what people? The Malapterurus happens to be our very own delicacy in these parts, the catfish. You see now eh? Whenever your electric catfish or whatever type of fish you have in your little power aquarium gets old, so old that they cannot generate enough power again, you can just get them replaced and convert them to more familiar uses.

Peppersoup.

I know this is the one y'all will know!

Wetin?

Even Jesus said man shall not live by bread alone. A few years later, he fed a multitude of 5000 Jews with bread and you already know… FISH.

Okay seriously now, think about it. Imagine if we had fish powered cars, motorcycles, cookers, blenders etc. I read somewhere that the high-performance Tesla Roadster electric-powered vehicle is run on a 375 volt AC induction air-cooled electric motor. A single Electrophorus electricus also known as the electric eel can produce a 600 volt charge! The possibilities are endless. Further studies on how these fish cells produce the electricity can be done and replicated in artificial power-generating fish cells which can then be used in medical implants such as pacemakers and artificial organs.

Don’t be ‘shocked’ I did this. This idea was birthed after consuming copious amounts of agbalumo flavoured vodka which in itself was developed by dedicated Sushey scientists working hard in our Sushey labs. Thank me later.

Everyone needs to learn the stuff i teach.

Immortally yours

Larry Sushey.

 

I ate Police with a passions (Part letter II)

In case you missed the part letter I of this post, you can read it here.

Cool Story Bro Hand Rocket

Never trust a girl that wears any other colour jeans apart from blue. Let me rephrase, i have met very few chicks/guys that can pull off wearing red, green, orange, yellow or even black jeans without coming off as ‘dirty’. In fact at the moment, i know only one guy that has a pair of black jean pants. Most people with black jeans don’t wash them. Now that is my ultimate belief so you can imagine the shock i felt when we came down from the car and i noticed that both Dupe and Bola had red and black jeans on respectively.

This is a no!

You see, when we picked them up at Aguda, there was no power so i didn’t notice their jeans. As we alighted from the car and i saw those jeans, i pulled Fizzle to the side.

Me:        “Fizzle baba! Shebi u talk say those girls no be ashawo?”

Fizzle:   “Ahn ahn! Dem no be ashawo now dem be student! Why u say dem be ashawo?”

Me:       “Oya which school?”

Fizzle:    “I no know o… E be like say na Unilag or Laspo.” (Laspo = Lagos State Polytechnic)

By this time, the two girls had flanked A.K on both sides and they were making an entrance for the club. A.K looked so helpless i pitied him. At the end of the day sha, the bouncer bounced the girls because they weren’t properly dressed. So we had to go to another joint. For some funny reason, A.K was keen on ‘washing’ the vehicle that night with or without the girls. There was some talk about going to a place called ‘Rita Lori’ and immediately i heard that name i objected. I know for a fact that a Rita Lori hotel in Abuja is famed for the ladies of easy virtue and touts. I couldn’t be found in such a place.

However, Fizzle and even A.K said that the Surulere Rita Lori wasn’t as notorious as that in Abuja and that it wasn’t a bad place to ‘manage’. Bola muttered something about Rita Lori being the only place all the girls in her area went to and that a lot of them were prostitutes. At that singular moment, i knew we weren’t gonna set foot there. Imagine hanging at a place with hundreds of Dupe and Bola!

To be honest, i was quite relieved we didn’t go there. A few minutes later we ended up at another joint Fizzle wanted to avoid all along because he thought it was expensive. Little did he know that we didn’t mind as long as it was ‘standard’.

I was the first to alight from the vehicle and i started walking very fast towards the entrance so that nobody will know that i came with those girls. Before i could say discombobulate, Dupe and Bola were at my side and had even managed to hook the crook of their elbows with mine. I felt like i was under arrest. I stopped walking abruptly.

Me:        “Ahn ahn!!! What is it?!”

Dupe:   “Why are you walking fast like dis?”

Bola:      “He dinor want us to enter the club together. You must enter inside with us today.”

In my mind i was thinking: “Mogbe!!! Abi make i run?” The combo of their smelling hair was slowly ebbing life from me.

Me:        “Oya, I’m not entering again, I want to buy a recharge card.”

Dupe/Bola: “Ehn we will follow you!!!’

Me :       “Oy… Oy… Oya now!!!” I stuttered with so much anger that A.K practically started rolling.

Fizzle looked at me with a stern *side eye* that seemed to say: “What kind of fuck up boy is this one?” It was a two Way Street so we crossed over to the middle curb. All of a sudden, without warning, Dupe freed me and ran as fast as Ben Johnson to meet A.K and Fizzle as they were already on their way to the entrance.

Bola:      “Ha! My friend deseef me ni sha! See me i tink we are entering togeda o!”

Me:        (._.)

We crossed to the other side and i had already formulated an idea. I bought an Airtel recharge card (I use MTN) and…

Me:       “Take this card and go and give it to my friend before he enters.”

Bola:      “Ehen! I should go and give eem?”

Me:        “Yes. Be fast o! Before they enter….”

Bola:      “Hoekay.” And off she went! Almost as fast as Dupe did…

Once again i was alone. Now i waited a good 5 minutes after they had entered before i joined them. Finding them wasn’t so difficult. I knew A.K well; they were seated at the darkest corner of the V.I.P section. We ordered a bottle of Jack Daniels and a few cokes. I brought out my BlackBerry to charge at a nearby socket when my peripheral vision caught Bola putting ice in all our cups. She had opened the bottle and was serving everybody copious amounts of Scotch and coke. So much so, that our glasses were filled to the brim.

A.K and Fizzle didn’t utter a word. They just kept staring in awe… The d.j started playing a Bracket song- ‘Yori Yori’…

Dupe:    “I din like P square. They like spoken(ing) too much ibo.”

Me:        “That’s Bracket. What school are you?”

Dupe:    “Ajileye.”

Me:        “WHATTT??? You people are still in secondary school?!”

Dupe:    “No o! Ajileye Yoruba acting group school. You dinor know Ajileye ni?”

At this point, A.K stood up feigning that he had to make a phone call. I pressed on.

Me:        “You mean you’re in an acting troupe like Ogunde and Wale Adenuga’s?”

Bola:      “Ees nor troop o! School! School!! School!!! Like lecturer.”

Me:        “Okay.”  (._.)

As the night wore on the girls got freer and freer. Fizzle was so happy and made several comments about how much he liked the girls and the fact that they didn’t ‘form’ at all. Now there were two stripper poles at our corner of the lounge. Those girls did injustice to those poles. Have u ever seen someone ‘romancing’ a pole before? Like seriously, you’d think the poles were men. There was some serious ‘komole-ing’ and ‘alanta-ing’ and ‘galala-ing’ and ‘flex-ing’ and ‘butterfly-ing’ in front of those metal poles. They were even backing they’re asses up into the poles. They dragged us to dance but we refused at every attempt. There was this one time i had to run to the bathroom for about 15 minutes. By the time i got back, Fizzle was sandwiched in between the two girls and he looked like…

*sigh*

Apparently, someone in the premises was celebrating his birthday that night and then decided that everybody who bought something be given the exact same thing on his tab. Thus, the birth of another bottle of Jack Daniels. Mid way through the 2^nd bottle, i noticed that there many girls clustered around our table and they were even sending Dupe and Bola to fetch them some drinks. They had already started dancing and touching themselves and our corner of the joint was cynosure of all eyes when we decided it was time to call it a night. By this time i won’t lie, i was quite high and was grinning from ear to ear!

Fizzle:    “Sir Larry!!!”

Me:        “Baba mi. What occur?”

Fizzle:    “E be like say Bola like you o!”

Me:           “I no want joh! Give A.K.”

Fizzle:    “No o, I sabi A.K since. Carry Bola make i carry Dupe now! Na because of you Bola come o!”

Me:        “Fizzle, i can’t do it man. She dey smell…”

Fizzle:    “Lai lai e no dey smell!!! You don high abi? HAHAHAHAWHAWHAHEHEHE!!! U no even hard.”

He gave me an idea then. I pretended to stagger to the car and got in the passenger’s side lazily. Hafiz and the girls laughed at me all through the drive back thinking i was wasted. However A.K knew and was quiet. We dropped Fizzle off at his place with the girls knowing that he could handle them both with ease. After all, he looked like triple H with a slight pot belly. Remember?

Myself and A.K laughed throughout the entire trip home and i promised to blog about it. So there it is, my story. I passed on a one night stand. I mean, who wouldn’t?

The end.

Larry Sushey.

 

I ate Police with a passions

Hmnnn…

I should tell 'em at parties

I want to tell you guys a story. If you are a follower of this here piece of crap i call a blog you would know by now that I was in Lagos late last year and caught a lot of “cool funs” as evidenced in this post right here. Well this is a story of me, A.K the bad guy and Hafiz the Fizzle Fizz…

You see, I have lived in Abuja for the past 11 years even though i was born and bred in Lagos. I however do not see myself as a ‘Lagos boy’ by any means. This is because every time i visit that place i always have a jaw dropping experience which inadvertently seems normal to the average Lagosian. Like this one time i was in transit on the third mainland bridge to V.I and something caught my eye. Someone sat on the bridge railing and was dropping lumps of shit into the lagoon below. Nobody in the damn BRT batted an eyelid… It was like the norm. I could’ve even sworn that he waved at someone inside the bus!

 I mean, this nigga was butt naked with his full ‘naked of prick o!’ at about 9:15 a.m and there was a slight traffic hold up. People barely gave him a sideward glance like he was part of the construction. Anyway i digress…

So I was in Lag with my Abuja friend, A.K. I decided to bunk at his pad somewhere off Adeniran Ogunsanya road Surulere. It was in Lere that i met Hafiz the Fizzle Fizz…

Now this guy is a confirmed full grown matured old adult MAN. He’s about 7 feet tall and has the physique of Humongousaur (refer to Ben10). I mean, imagine a very black Triple H with a slight pot belly and you’ve got Fizzle. The kind of guy you wanna have fighting on your side. I asked A.K how he knew him and he said he was one of the area boys that used to help his mum carry heavy machinery and stuff like that. Fizzle was in a good mood that day, something about him being the new guy to collect all the ‘agbero’ money from the okada riders. Need i say more?

In short Fizzle>>>> Humongusaur x Triple H

So A.K had just taken delivery of a brand new vehicle and we were gonna celebrate. It was a Sunday night and Fizzle insisted on ‘arranging’ babes to spice it up. He made a lot of phone calls before finally getting hold of someone and i heard him telling her to come with her friends. The phone was loud and i heard her say something about her being a “one woman mopol”. Fizzle convinced her and she finally agreed that we should come pick her up somewhere in Aguda, Surulere.

A.K was driving, i was in the passenger’s seat and Fizzle was at the back. The following conversation ensued on our way there.

A.K: “Hafiz this place wey we dey go far o, abeg try direct me because i’ve never been there o!”

Fizzle: “HAHAHAHA!!! I go direct you now worry, e no far.”

Me: “Fizzle you sure say these girls no be ashawo?”

Fizzle: “HEHEHEHEHE!!! No oooo, dem be student now! Dem be bad girls you go like dem. Baba say dem be ashawo….HAWHAWHAWHEHEHE!!!”

We went on to talk about Chelsea defeating Manchester City earlier in the week and some other stuff I’m not going to tell you about. Thirty minutes later, we were parked at a filling station somewhere in Aguda. The girls were on a bike coming to meet us so Fizzle took a stroll to meet them at the junction while i waited with AK in the car. A few moments later, i saw Fizzle approaching us with two girls, one obviously more attractive than the other. A.K and I caught each other in a side eye glance. I was already thinking of how to intrebolate the finer one when they got to the car and entered the backseat. That’s when it hit me like a heat wave.

The smell.

The trash heap has spoken.... RISE!

Those girls had on their heads, wigs/weaves from hell. I’m not exaggerating, those things smelt so bad it was as if someone farted in the car.

WARNING: This goes out to all you girls who carry weaves on your head till lice and fleas and all those other smell inducing elements build sky scrapers on your head. STOP IT! The fact that you smooch your hair with ‘pink oil’ every morning and then comb it into another style doesn’t change the weave. We don’t care if it’s Indian, Peruvian or Vietnamese hair. STOP IT. As you read this, i don’t care if you’re in the office or not, put your hand in your hair and start loosening that shit right away! Who do you think you’re deceiving? It’s not sexy. I dont like having to hold my breath everytime i hug you.

Back to the story.

 A.K was frowning and didn’t utter a word. If not for the area we were in, I’m sure he would’ve taken  the windows all the way down.

Fizzle: “Guys na the babes be this o.”

A.K: “Hi. Fizzle na your town be this, where we dey go?” (Still frowning)

I turned around and introduced myself to the babes. Their names were Bola and Dupe.

A.K had started driving out and Fizzle and his babes were talking in the back seat. I brought out my phone to tweet when it happened.

Dupe:    “I have a eddik o!”

Bola:      “Mi o de wa ni panadol o! I din haff panadol at all.”

I hear a zip open and turn in time to see Dupe reach for something in her bag. I’m not sure if it was the smell that hit me first or the sight of a dark green plastic bottle with a yellow cap. Alomo bitters!

Kasapreko Alomo Bitters

This bitch was using Alomo to abate her headache! (In case you don’t know Alomo bitters, it’s a very vile tasting ‘ointmentish’ drink with Ghanaian origins and has 43% alcohol). Bola brought out her phone and shuffled through it. She starts to play a song from her phone and next thing i hear the girls scream out of excitement…

Dupe/Bola: “HEEEYYYYYYYYYY…..YEEEAAAHHHHHHH!!!!”

Bola: “It’s Hollllaaarr baby!!! Holllaaaaarrrrr!..”

Dupe/Bola: “ENI DURO!!!! Horrlamidey is yeah, just like the first day of the year.”

*They kept miming the song, some gibberish i couldn’t quite make out*

Dupe/Bola: “Hoekay. Holrite! Hall dia? He dey dere….

(I found the song they were listening to on the internet. You can download it here)

By the time they were mid way through the song, A.K had taken down the windows because the smell had become unbearable. He ordered them to put off the music as we approached a police checkpoint. I sat there tweeting still, using every bit of my energy to keep a straight face. I managed to look into the rear view mirror and saw Fizzle mildly suppress a grin. Trust Lagos policemen, they flagged us down.

Policeman: “Inner light, park.”

A.K:  “Officer, well done. How work?”

Policeman: “Ha oga na you? This your motor na tear rubber. Who is the owner of this vehicle?”

A.K: “It’s my car.”

Policeman: “You mean you buy this brand new motor by yourself?”

A.K: “Yes.  Any problem?”

He seemed to ponder over the question before he responded.

Policeman: “No chairman. That means you have to ‘wash’ it for us nah. You know we are here to protect you people. Make we sef follow enjoy from your happiness baba!…”

A.K handed him a couple thousand naira notes and he and his colleagues waved us on, smiling and waving like we were part of the state governor’s convoy.

I couldn’t help but mutter something about the irony of A.K having a convo with A.K (In Nigeria, policemen are sometimes refered to as ‘A.K’)

Dupe: “Hoe GOD! I ate police!!!”

Me: “BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

The girl, now smiling that she had finally gotten me to say something continued…

Dupe: “Hassin I ate police with a passions! I can never marry a police!! Das how dey use to do in dis

Lagos.”

Me: “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!” BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

A.K for the first time that night was laughing hysterically as was I. We look at each other and simultaneously chorused, Boondocks style, “HOODRATS! HOOODRAAAAAATTSS!!!”

The girls thought we were laughing at the policemen and joined in the laughter. We arrived at a lounge somewhere on Adeniran Ogunsanya and what those girls did ehn…

That will be a story for another day. This post is too long already. To be continued next week…

In case you haven’t noticed

I am Immortal Larry Sushey. #ITellCoolStories!

 

Bitrus, the Igbo man and the man in the black suit.

Pastor says: "Smile. All is well..."

Here goes my first joke of the year: Who cracks an April fool’s joke in January?

That’s right Ebele…

Or well, that’s what we thought until we found out it wasn’t a joke and he found out we are no fools. The subsequent strike actions, social commentary and even further subsequent reduction of the fuel price to 97 bucks are enough attestation to these facts.

A lot has been said here and there about the recent activities in our dear Nigeria.

However much has been said though, it’s not enough.  After all, i haven’t said my own. Before you go gung-ho, seen-it-all, been there, done that on my ass you can like to swallow a patience pill, I hear it brings good-luck.

Not a lot of people  have talked about the real reasons why all of these activities went down. I for one think it is divine. I mean, what better time for such an uprising to come up than the year when the world ends? Yes folks, the world ends this year just in case you didn’t know yet. Look at the activities late last year in the European Union, the Arab spring, Speed Darlington, Boko Haram’s sudden courage and more recently the SOPA and PIPA threats to shut down the internet and tell me it’s not real. It’s the Iluminati. Thank me later.

Anyway, as to the real reasons why Ebele decided to inflict suffering on his people, there are different theories. Please take note that what you are about to read is very privileged information and you should count yourself lucky to have come across this piece. Note that most all of these pieces of information were culled from beer parlour gist and if you have enough experience with beer parlours, you will know that you never take beer parlour gist with a pinch of salt. Again i say, thank me later.

One man after three bottles of Gulder, half a packet of cigarettes and whatever type of weed he had smoked before coming in said Ebele is trying to break Nigeria into two. He postulated that Ebele is the head of Boko Haram. He also said that he increased the price of petroleum products (PMS) so that the protests would provide an ample opportunity for him to send his Boko boys to bomb and kill innocent Nigerians hence creating an heightened state of fear among citizens and then use Boko Haram to send Christians back to the south. According to this bros,

“All is a plan work, they want Nigeria to scatter so that they can have all the oil to themself”.

This man, whose name i later found out to be Bitrus hails from Plateau state. He felt so sad and prayed to God that Kogi would accept him and his family since his wife hails from the Yoruba speaking parts of the state. He wanted to be with the south; after all he is a Christian. My take on Bitrus’ assertions is that much of it is just a load of hogwash!

I mean look at Ebele’s face.

Naah...he can't be that much of a genius

The guy no bright enough to think out that kind ingenious plan. I mean he can’t even read a damn speech without looking like a fake Kanayo O. Kanayo…

Spot the original

“Look let me tell you suntin”, said the Igbo man sitting in the corner sipping on some Star lager while waiting for his plate of akpu. “How can you insult the playsidaint like dat? He is not a tellolist. The Hausa and Yoluba cabal is too much in dis contray. All d people in our side where they drill the oyel doesn’t have money to feed and enjoy awaseff. (Notice famzing with the South-South?)  I support what the playsidaint is doing o! Let the money change hand so that we will form the new cabal in dis contrayy, after all it is awa oyel. Let us chop the money and let the rest of dem suffa so that there will be equirriblium”.

At this point i interjected and reminded him that he is actually Ibo and not from the south south as he was making other people to believe and that it would be wrong to take from Peter and give to Paul as he supported the subsidy removal for all the wrong reasons. He cut me short by saying he was from Abia state and that his state is an oil producing state. I bowed out tongue in cheek. (I am a trained petrophysicist and i didn’t know that…)

Bitrus muttered some unprintable stuff under his breath. The Ibo man shot him a fiery eyed glance. In my mind i was thinking: ‘correct! E don set….’

Then the gentleman in the suit, sipping on peppersoup and a bottle of malt spoke. He politely apologized for butting in on the discussion but couldn’t help but comment. He thought the problem was NOI, our honourable minister of finance. He said that other African countries had only recently removed subsidies and that all of that money was going to be stored in foreign accounts to help the ailing Euro and failing economies of Greece, Italy and Spain recover from their respective recessions. (I didn’t even know Spain was in trouble) He went on to say amongst other stuff, that Ngozi was an agent of the IMF and that he has lost all respect for her. This had me thinking for a minute and then i reminded him that the minister was actually a staff of the World Bank and not the IMF and then he said:

“Bros, i say see throat, you say see neck. Wetin be the difference?”

Seriously? See the evil grin?

Once again, i went tongue in cheek. Could it be true? He’s got quite a point you know…

At this point, Segun the bar tender strolled by and i ordered my bottle of Guinness extra stout. I sighted Banky Sushey alight from his car and walk towards me. “Sege, add one Harp to the stout for my guy abeg.” I then asked him what he felt about the whole subsidy removal issue and he yimued so furiously that girl with the big nose would’ve gone green with envy//

“Oga, i no know o!..” he retorted as he walked away with a frown the size of Australia on his pimple ridden face.

At this point, the Igbo man was hungrily munching on his Akpu and Bitrus had moved over to the suited guy’s table. They were deeply engrossed in an argument, something about Osama Bin Laden.

A lot of other theories were postulated that fine evening. Some people said the Federal Government was trying to recoup the money spent during the general elections last year, a few others believed that Ebele should be given a chance to at least prove us wrong even though they didn’t totally trust him because of his advisers and cronies.

Anyway, I believe that however ludicrous these theories are, there has got to be an element of truth in every single one of them. Could the government and/or its officials be actively/passively involved in the recent religious bombings that have plagued the Nation? Is it possible that the IMF plans on using African money to bail out the ailing European economies? Some sort of Neo-colonialism perhaps.  Maybe we’ll soon see a new generation of South eastern and South southern billionaires. Heck, maybe Ebele’s all sincere and everything’s gonna be just fine as he as he has promised.

Maybe, maybe…. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Sincere condolences to everyone that has lost family and friends in Kano and during the whole struggle. May God bless their souls. My pastor says, Nigeria will survive and i believe him.

God bless Nigeria.

Still immortal,

Larry Sushey.

 

“The Nigerian Twitter” and 12 days of Xmas

Forget the previous post.

It’s been a while i came here and i have the perfect excuse. Being that this excuse has  somewhat been trending in blogsville i’m gonna jump on the bandwagon. I haven’t posted anything in about a month because, err.. well, i’ve been in camp.

Camp was literally life changing for me. I was one of those that had the rare opportunity to have served in two different camps. It was a special feeling in both places… I mean, at the Redeemed camp there were uncountable miracles. The power of God was just everywhere. I was touched by an angel. (story for another day) After 5 days there, i moved at another camp. Bonny camp. The guard rooms in that one are very small and uncomfortable though, but nothing a Sushey couldn’t handle.

You see my very stubborn Lagos friends Ak 47 and Hafiz the fizzle Fizz decided to get into a fight with an okada man in front of Bonny camp, Victoria Island Lagos. Funny thing is the motorcyclist had offended them way before we got to the barracks but they decided to go wait for him at his home turf just to form Jack Bauer. Happens the okada man was a soldier. Let’s just say after many hours in the guard room, My life will never be the same. These ‘camping’ experiences no Harold have been life changing for me on two separate levels.  What they both have in common however is that i henceforth eschew violence. I WILL NEVER LOOK FOR TROUBLE AGAIN.

*Psyche*

Moving on, it’s xmas season and this is what this post is really about. well not exactly but yeah 2011 has been quite the year on “the Nigerian twitter”. Sushey records decided to do a remix of the 12 days of Christmas song and remind you of some of those moments that made Nigerian twitter fun this year. I might have missed some of the drama but here are the top twelve for me.

Enjoy…

*Clears throat*

On the first day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Toxic virgins up in blogsville”

The Toxic Virgin

On the second day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Super Chupa Chups, toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Remember, remember the blogger awards?

On the third day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups, toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Who wants to sleep with Okoya?

On the fourth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups, toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

His name should be Teet(h)eelayo

On the fifth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Nutricious Ugu leaves

On the sixth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Send me a DM. Can i "thrust" you?

On the seventh day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Auracool. He sure is well above 30...

On the eighth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Bed wetting in Lekki, Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Na sin to piss?

On the ninth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Chinnydiva’s outfit, bed wetting in Lekki, Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

I think she's gorgeous...

On the tenth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Hermes purse expensive, Chinnydiva’s outfit, bed wetting in Lekki, Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

I'd set 'P' for a Hermes purse too...

On the eleventh day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “Darlington beefs Vic’O, Hermes purse expensive, , Chinnydiva’s outfit, bed wetting in Lekki, Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

I hope it turns physical.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, Majela said to me: “I’m a winsh for Jesus, Hermes purse expensive, Darlington beefs Vic’O, Chinnydiva’s outfit, bed wetting in Lekki, Oracle’s a-fooling, legend of the ‘thruster’, Fine ugu leaves… Peju’s large teeth, Babcock girls fight, super Chupa Chups , toxic virgins up in blogsville.”

Holy slap, no?

I might have missed out on some of those moments that made you go :O !

Sue me. Use the comment box to state which was your favorite scandal of the year… It’s gonna be interesting to here your views. If you aren’ t on twitter, i suggest you get an account.

Shii is cray on those streets mehn, cray cray…

Larry Sushey wishes you a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

I remain immortal.

 

I love Dust

I love dust

I saunter unto this blogsville street, dust cloud!
*Inhales dust; savours…*
So many cobwebs spiderman would get consumed in a ball of yarn. Yet I stand… Dust king.
So much webs up in here It feels like a website… It’s been like what, three years since I left these streets?

Hmmn…

Wait a minute! This blog is all about yarning dust innit? I don’t think blogging about anything will do us any justice. I’ll just leave… Yeah leave it empty. Let the dust accumulate. #OkBye. ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​             
*PSYCHE* ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​             

I bet you thought I was gonna do it, didn’t ya? Well…

​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​              ​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​             
​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​                  ‎​             

You were right.

Sushey out.

 

If I was Moammar…

It is not news that on the Thursday, the 20th day of October, in the year of our lord 2011. I lost a friend. The west succeeded in killing a good man. Stupid, but a good man all the same. I didn’t rejoice when he was killed by snitches his own people rather i wept for that Nation. They know not what they have lost in a man who was the only uniting factor amongst the many very volatile tribes that make up that country.

Stupid, stupid Moammar. My friend of many years, if only you had listened to my advice. You were lost in your glory and got so power drunk that you didn’ t know when to press the eject button. You thought it wasn’ t gonna end and felt that you could win the battle but you forget that we war not against flesh and blood but Jews. I am going to share with these good people five of the things i would’ve done differently if i was in your shoes. I know you won’t like it but meh…. :p

Catch me if you can!

• If i was Moammar, I would have got myself some plastic surgery done. Think about it, nobody really likes an ugly leader! Im sure you know why they kicked out the General from Ota. He like you, had every intention of running for office for a third term and see the public outcry against his ascension. Despite all your achievements, and how good you were to your people, they still literally led u to kick the proverbial bucket. Life ain’t fair i know so we’ ve gotta bleach it homie (cc @iceprince) but you could have been a little smarter dawg. Even with your country having the best medical care system in Africa, you couldn’t humble yourself and go under the knife. You could have been superstar like Mick Jagger but your pride built a mansion in Tripoli before your fall came calling. I mean who wouldn’t want good ol’ Mick ruling over them? Ugly not good for business yo! Ugly not good.

You could have had the moves like Jagger

• If i was Moammar, I would have stepped down about twenty years ago. Like seriously i know… They were all corrupt dick heads with no genuine love for the country and they were all pussies yeah. I know you are the revolutionist. The saviour and grand master Lee that delivered Libya from the monarchy of King Idris I. My guy, you took over power in 1969 yeah? You could have at least trained somebody to take over from you bro. Look at me for example? I could have helped you out mayne! All you had to say was that i was from some remote village outside Tikrit. I’m good with Languages and i would have adapted faster than that Rick Perry dude could have ever recovered from his gaffe last night. I asked you, but like a certain oracle, #YouSaidNo. Look At Vladimir Putin, (I named one of my daughters after him) he installed Medviedev as president of Russia and became Prime minister. He still runs shit in the country by the way and now will be the next president. We could have used Libya to play “ten-ten” like they’re doing in Russia now but you didn’t listen. Now you rot in a grave not even up to six feet deep. . Im hurt. #Edeypain.

• If i was Moammar, I would have got rid of those cheap sun shades yo! Look at your mates all over the world… Even Abacha in his life time would never have put on that crap you put on your face man! Yes you bought it for twelve thousand U.S.D and it was hand made by the ancient earth benders from the Tibetan mountains or wherever the heck but i bet you a million bucks i saw that shit in Aba. In fact i doubt that all your clothes weren’t sewn at Ariaria model market. You no get personal stylist? I swear if you had a little more style; even without the surgery your people would’ve tolerated you. Shebi Kim Jong Il is still in power now… That nigga got more style than you and that my friend is a major, major problem. I told you but #YouSaidNo

Muhammadu, are you a biker? BIG frames nigga, BIG frames.

• If i was Moammar, I would have had a few more daughters. Infact i would have had more daughters than sons. Come on man, you know boys have too much trouble. I will have seven children and you had eight… cool, but brov seven boys and one girl is no fair balance. I mean, were you a butt pirate? Why have so many troublesome “pendula” gyrating about your crib? Then you had to name your son Hannibal… The guy just lived up to his name by being a real pain in your proverbial ass! I would have taken all my children to China if i were you so that they can famz with the who’s who in the society, you dig? Yes? Idiot. How you go dig when you no be hoe…

• If i was Moammar, I would have been a lot nicer! Ahn ahn, bros you too wicked!!! You could have been a tad nicer to people bro! I know Libya’s a very complex country and you needed an iron fist to rule them just like Nigeria but you took it to another level joh. Yes you gave them a fantastic economy and all that stuff we wish for in Sub-Saharan Africa but you didn’t pay enough detail to the little things. Those little things have accumulated to bring you down now and i’m sure you know that phrase about little drops of water making the mighty ocean. The fat lady sang nigga and you were made to dance but you could have at least given us damn good exit moves to your swan song. Instead after forming voltron you had to beg for your life. You fall my hand bro…

Plus in 1970, You seized just the private assets of Libya’s Italian and Jewish residents, driving them from the country. Wait, you be Caeser?  Nobody fuxxx with ‘em Jews bro. You didn’t get the memo? Now they got you good didn’t they? Didn’t they?!…

Everyone needs to learn the stuff i teach. Everyone.

Immortal as always,

Larry Sushey.

 

Letter to My Unborn Children.

Great Child

There will be seven. Seven of you will extrebolate from my loins. 1 boy and six girls. Let me tell you a little something about your father. I like women. Your grandfather Afolabi Akunamatata Sushey was a womaniser. In our clan, I have always been looked at as the odd one. Well at least I see myself as different from the other Susheys. I mean take a look at my siblings… from Johnnie to Frankie, my brothers have taken all the flirtatious chromosomes from his gene pool and left me with chaff. That is why I am good people. I will therefore have only one wife. One wife at a time I mean. Nothing, not even death (to your mother(s) of course) can stop this here Larry from having you seven rugrats.

Good news or bad news first. Let’s start with the bad shall we? My children, forget about inheriting any of my property because I will never die. I am sure you know what immortal means. Therefore, I am sure the only way you’ll get to read this letter is if I decide to show it to you. You know, just to prove a point at some point in the future.

*chuckles*

Now to the good news. My son, you shall be first and you shall be called ‘Anonymous’. No surname no nothing. You shall simply be referred to as Anonymous. I know your friends might laugh at you and call you all sorts but you are a Sushey and nothing can get under that skin of ours. Look on the bright side son! You can get away with anything nigga; from plagiarism to murder.” Whodunnit? Anonymous”.
Thank me later.
You will also be an international soccer star. If you decide to play for Chelsea, you will be replaced. Your primary assignment will be to protect your sisters and you will be great at it.

Now to my daughters. Thomas, Gbolahon, Xerxes, Vladimirina, Larry and Copernicus. Yes I have reasons for choosing such uniquely beautiful names for all of you. Well, all apart from Thomas, I just like the way Thomas sounds. I have given you a voltron as a brother. He should be able to get away with anything so I foresee no problems in that department. I have the six of you because I like women. You lot are a joy/beauty to behold and also a worthy investment. Your bride price(s) will break world records, I promise you this.

At least three of you must marry Chinese men. Those midgets from the East have put in motion their grand plan of taking over the world yo! Did you know that it is now compulsory for all Chinese to learn the English Language? Imagine one billion look-alikes speaking fluent English effortlessly. They’ll infiltrate every country and it’ll only be a matter of time before they become the world’s elite. Plus they have small ‘kinis’ and that should help reduce wear and tear of the… *mumbles some gibberish and cracks knuckles*

I will make you a few promises. You will never regret having me as a father. If you try to be naughty be rest assured that I will whoop your ass and you will like it. When you are born and I see signs that this one is going to be stubborn, I swear to Zeus the first language you understand will be that of the koboko. Three pronged with detachable spiked balls at the end. I will flog the demons out of your destiny. Don’t worry, #ewinorpainyou.

None of you will be gay. I bet my immortality on it. My koboko guarantees it. I mean let’s think about it. A homosexual man would rather be with a man who acts like a woman than with a real woman. A lesbian doesn’t like boys but will prefer to sexplore with a tom-boy. No offspring of mine will be involved in such acts. I promise to give you the best of education and that means you will not school in Nigeria. I mean even if they brought Havard to Calabar, you will school abroad. There’s something about this Nigerian sun… All of you must speak at least three languages. Of those three, I demand that English and Chinese be paramount. I am only trying to secure your future, any other language you choose to add is not my concern.

I know you thunk I was gonna give you advice and some bull crap rule book to live by like all the other mortal parents yeah? That shit’s for cunt muppets and weaklings yo! In life there are no rules, just make sure you live your life like good people cos karma is one helluva bisexual bitch and she’ll fuck you up seven ways from Sunday.

I leave you with these few words though: “Life’s a bitch, so fuck it!” I mean nak that akpako so hard the echoes reverberate all through the underworld and beyond the entire Universe. You know, Something like what Thor’s hammer could do. Just be good people and all will be fine. I’ll be chilling in the Mongolian mountains with my monk friends… If you deviate from these predictions of mine, remember I will still have my koboko and if that doesn’t work, you will be replaced.

I remain immortal.

Larry Sushey.