July 2011

The greatest man in the world.

My man of men without an iota of doubt is Aron Ralston. If you’re asking yourself “who the hell Aron Ralston is,” you’d better step back and re-evaluate your life right now. Ralston, the living legend, is a mechanical engineer by training and had a very comfortable job with Intel before he resigned to pursue his dream of mountain climbing.

In April 2003, he was hiking up a cliff in southern Utah (probably to do something manly like take a leak off of it), when a giant boulder fell on him, pinning his arm against the ground. Most people would have just died, but did he surrender his life to a mere giant life-threatening boulder? Hell no. He just kept getting angrier and angrier until he finally CUT OFF HIS ARM WITH A DULL KNIFE.


Yes, you read that correctly, he cut off his own arm with a dull pocket knife.

Imagine. This is HEART

Imagine that he literally chiseled away at the bone so he could snap his arm off and free himself from underneath the rock. I say shame on you useless dimwits who plead the blood of Jesus whenever the doctor schedules them for ordinary injection.

Now, there have been two previous attempts to tell the story of what happened afterwards but none of them is true. The first is a book released in 2004 titled “Between a rock and a hard place” and the second is a 2010 movie release titled “127 hours”. The good news is that I have the true story and I will be educating you soon enough. Aron said to me that he told the stenographers who wrote the book the story I’m about to tell you but the morons decided to edit it for reasons best known to them. The movie is based on the book so it can best be likened to an Aba made pair of Made in China ‘Abibas’ trainers.

Here’s the true story…

After he cut off his arm, he jumped off the cliff and broke his fall with his face, just because he’s that tough. Then he got ambushed by a tribe of 127 angry Indians, caught an arrow in his heart, pulled it out and killed all the warriors with it.

On his way back a buffalo crossed his path so what did Ralston do? He head-butt it to death, then he found its 127 offspring and broke their ribs just for pissing him off. Then, he chopped down a tree with his undoubtedly large penis, built a raft out of it and rafted down the green river. When he got to the river bank, he took a long walk to a little dirt road where he intended to hitch hike a vehicle to the nearest hospital.

However, after standing on the road for exactly 127.127 minutes without any forthcoming help, he decided to jog down to the hospital which coincidentally was just 127 miles away.

He survived all the while by drinking blood from his ‘finely’ severed right arm.

Talk about recycling. Blood cannot weist.


Very Bad Bad Guy.

That’s the damn truth more or less. Aron Ralston is a real man and one tough son of a bitch. He deserves utmost respect for being such a badass. This is the reason why he is my man of men.

I met Aron in 2009 in Tanzania where myself, @sheriphskills and about twelve pretty ladies plus Aron climbed to the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro. We quickly became friends and he told us this story. Aron also said not to tell anyone what I just told you but, Wurrahell… I am Larry Sushey and  the whole world deserves to know the truth.

Sorry Aron, i know you’re modest but f**k the Stenographers mehn!

*Say what?! Thought so.*

Aron has gone ahead to become the first man to climb all of Colorado’s 53 mountains over 14,000 feet in elevation and he did it all alone in winter. Albeit with one arm.

Use the comment box to express who your own greatest man to have walked the earth is. Don’t come here to start writing your father or fake guys like Nelson Mandela, Ghandi or Martin Luther-King.

We don’t do that here.

Larry Sushey.

The more you know the more you know not

Today’s post is written by @Griffinstreaks. I no dey there o!


My fingers keep on tapping the arm of my seat nervously. I don’t really know why I’m trying to do this but by all indications it seems like it’s the only way.

It’s been months since I consciously allowed myself let go like I am about to do right now.

For more than one reason I’ve kept him hidden and locked up in the recesses of my mind, merely tapping from his loose moral wit on the rare
occasion. But today I have reached a threshold, a point where I know I need tofully harness him. This means I must learn to tame him, to do so I must first learn the most difficult part of it all; how to access him.

I talk about a part of me rarely seen, heard or read about in recent months. Some people call it an alter ego, others say its multiple
personality disorder. I honestly don’t know what to call it.

I was inspired by @banxman & @slimsiren’s post about ‘The Darkness’ (not sure if I got that right).

In order to stop me from going on a harmful rampage, I have decided, obviously to perform this first exercise supervised, I won’t be the
person typing away at the keyboard, but whatever you read here will definitely be my words or rather ‘his’ words.

I am Griffin.


I’ve already carried out the necessary rituals I believe will most likely force him out of the dark recesses which I have forcefully confined him to. It’s a simple process actually I’m listening to his favorite song, (Breath & Stop: Q-Tip) and I just finished reading one of  his best novels (How almost every Top secret was discovered). Google the author, I forget.

So now I wait. I’m sitting on a chair in a dimly lit room, its 8:00AM; my usual cup of coffee is right beside me. I look across the room and I observe my supervisor, he’s trying so hard to hide his amusement. It’s obvious he doesn’t believe in my exercise, simply indulging me due to lack of more amusing activity.

I’m trying to focus. I sit there quietly, the room is eerily quiet except for aslight hum in my ear…

I wait.

Try to empty my thoughts…

I wait a while, I begin to hear a mocking voice from within, as if someone is strutting around in my head, a voice laced with the thickest sarcasm hums a tune to Notorious B.I.G’s ‘f*&king you tonight’. All the while my fingers double their speed as I keep on tapping the armrest. In seconds it all feels  blurry…
I zone out.

Exit right, Enter LEFT...

Cheeky bastard decides to let me out after 9 months and 24 days right, what nonsense!

To imagine he hasn’t gained or learned any improved lessons in self grooming or dressing is putting the matter slightly, who ever told him getting a hair cut was a good idea should be shot. Five times for lying and another 5 times for being blind, shot in the arse just because i think it’ s awesome.

Then there’s this terrible looking cup of coffee he has by the chair. What on earth does this man want to do with this body of mine? Caffeinate me to death?!

I’m definitely not going back to that damp squib of a mind of his, I’m back for good…

Oh My God! What is this I’m wearing?

Whatever his plans were from the beginning I’m sure glad I’m out to correct all of this, excuse me for a few

*leaves the room for a few minutes and returns wearing a cravat and silk pajamas holding a glass of merlot*

He looks disgustingly at the supervisor who is beside himself.

Wonder why this gnat is still here. I’d prefer to be alone thank you.


Supervisor sits there, motionless. His eyes barely blinking, he conveys the perfect illustration of comical shock.

Oh well, since he’s got blown fuses for brains I might as well see how well they function.

Just in case you’re dumb enough not to have realised. Griffin ain’ t here no more. 

*lights cigarette*

Who am I? You might wonder. Well I’m far from your worst night mare, but I’ve been known to assist not a handful of people question
their sanity.

Here are some clues; I use similar words as that mad excuse for a blogger you all keep on cooing and whelping about.

What?! Not the @thetoolsman! No way! Any time Griffin reads that blog it leaves his brain in a soggy state, quite despicable state I tell you.

I’m talking about Larry you idiots! *sigh*

University, I fear, was a mis-education for some of you and no, I cannot help you.

Mingy Maggots.


My entertainment value might be substantially appreciated but staring at me for free is downright perverted. Where does Griffin get these people from?

So while I’ve been gone, the only thing griffin’s been able to do is… *looks around* Nothing! Dude has been as useless as expired rice, Abakaliki rice for that matter.

So I wonder why he locked me away in the first place. The things I saw *sigh*. Things I wished I had been there for. Like the day he
met @novacrossqueen. He just kept staring, whereas If it was me, I’d have made sure she gave birth to my first set of triplets.

*sips Merlot*

Look at what he managed to do to all my runs! Ending them or not keeping in touch with the rest of them, now I’ve been reduced to a bout of chronic monogamy. Or did anything happen to my McFly

*grabs member, feels member*

The gods are surely with him on this one, because if I had seen anything out of place then there would have
been Armageddon up in this binsh.

Yeah, I call my member Mcfly, got a better name for yours?

I remember the day this entire BS started; Griffin had picked up a copy of Uncle Wole’s ‘The man died’…. Let’s just say that by the time he had gone past 6 chapters, the last meaningful thing I could do was hide the book somewhere. The clueless fruit has no idea where I kept it till today.

How a normal human being would decide to read such a book while nursing a chronic hangover leaves me wondering if there’s anything suicidal about Griffin’s nature, no doubt I have my suspicions, considering his many attempts at fashion suicide I won’t be surprised if he manages to kill himself someday. I hope the suicide is awesome though. I have a substitute mind to possess already.

I intend to feature much more prominently in these spheres as from now on, since Griffin himself already asked for my help.

*rubbing palms together gleefully*

 I still have not set ‘P’ with any one of you chicks up on twitter or blogville. I hope griffin has a Certification in damage control though.

*gulps remaining merlot*

*Slum Village’s ‘Selfish’ humming in the background*

I’m sure we’ll run into each other sooner than y’all expect. Till then… My name is Johnny.




I open my eyes and I have a strange feeling about me. I am still sitting in the same position I was a while ago, in
the same room. But my clothes are different.

I smell tobacco and I look at the side table beside me, instead of my usual cup of coffee, I find a glass of Merlot and a pack of B
& H with about 6 cigarette butts in an ash tray.

That isn’t the most amusing thing in the room though, right in front of me is my supervisor, bound hand and foot with ropes behind his back,
gagged with a single sock and a pink post-it note pasted over his fore-head with
the words

‘Get rid of this hapless fruit will you…’

Shit! Johnny was here…