Bignuts Ironbender

Bignuts Ironbender

The man above is my friend, Bignuts Ironbender and I know it’s no longer mid-summer. Today i shall be telling you a story. First let me put up a ‘claimer’ as it seems like it has started trending in blogsville.

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This is a true cool story. All characters are non-fictional and all names and resemblances to people dead or alive is intentional. In fact, they are spot on. I will be held liable for any brouhaha that emanates from reading this here post and I will not regret it. If you do not believe this story… Err… Okay.
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About a year ago, I was going to wrestle a bunch of chicks and snakes in some bar when this guy named Ironbender Bignuts walked in. When the bartender asked us what we were having, we both said “Old Fashioned” at the same time. We gave each other the nod, got back to back and proceeded to beat the shit out of every man, woman and child in the bar—in super slow motion. It was like we were in the Matrix movie. There were lots of kids in the bar and we beat them all up! Do not send me hate mail or comments like some spastic know-it-all dipshit, I don’t care what you know about which laws. We were in err… Sao tome and Principé, so your limp-dicked laws don’t apply. Kids drink in Sao tome.

One day, Iron Bignuts and I were setting off fireworks on a battleship. My battleship, when we got the idea to make a TV show for this Media coy called Dust TV. Now DTV (situated in Calabar) is a TV station owned by the ever vivacious political Igodomigodo himself, Mr. Patrick Agbariogbon. Popular for his audacious use of the Queens English Language, all their programmes followed his supreme pattern. We needed to dumb it down a little, but Pat would have none of it.

However after I threatened to verbally emasculate his political career by issuing disparaging statements of calumny, exposing the precocious handling of his bed wetting tendencies, (which he attributed assiduously to his new born offspring) he obliged. I know that Pat jr.’s genitals could not produce such voluminous quantities of saline human by- products. I ascribed to my knowledge of certain discrepancies within his mental faculty as he was @Terdoh’s floor mate on the leftside.
His real mannerisms were now being gradually exposed, for alas he had endeavoured to conceal such short-comings using verbal aristocracy and lingual xenophobia. Cool story, his goose was cooked and non- conformity would see me applying rodo and iru to the mix. I spoke to him like a boss. We are equals.

He was immediately convinced that they needed something badass to fill that gaping hole in their late night programming womb. Imagine a show like ‘Tyra’ or ‘Mo hits with Mo’ that men would watch. You can’t?

Exactly!

We wanted to make a show that banged your face with the dicks of our ideas! There are no celebrities, fashion designers and models to be seen on our show. Just hard working guys earning a honest living with a story to tell, like this badass guy I read about who makes less than a dollar a week and sold his kidney so that he could take care of his 6 wives and 26 and a half children (No 13 is a midget). Also, this harlot I used to know who was a medical student in one of the Nigerian universities and took to prostitution so that she could feed her aged mother and her 9 siblings. (Well, really because she liked dick but shh… Don’t loud it)

… Back to the cool story…

We set out to save modern television from going down as one of the womanliest epochs in history. Notice how apart from sports these days every other thing is so womanly? Death to all the reality shows and the like. Our treatment literally had the line:
“So you think you can dance? Fuck you.” IronBender actually preferred the opening line to be in Zulu even though he was Ugandan. He thought the language represented true African pride. Anyway, Patrick finally loved it. Two high-fives and six months later, shit started happening:

Nothing.

Literally, shit = nothing. Unless of course it is accompanied by a scent from hell or somewhere close by like @sheriphskills bowels, shit is nothing.
Here’s what happened: Ironbender died. Apparently, he was involved in a planking accident. I warned him not to plank at the top of the wooden electric pole on Tuesdays because it was a taboo in Sao tomé but he didn’t listen. The termites come out on Tuesdays and well let’s just say he was involved in an accident that involved a horde of soldier termites and scrotum balls.

I was distraught. Heck I still am but hey… Life goes on. I am thinking of starting this program again and I need a female co-presenter. That female must however bow to the supremacy and awesomeness of Man. I doubt I’ll find an educated female that’ll fit my bill anyway so maybe I’ll just settle for Bruno Mars.
Still thinking though…

Cool story bruv, cool story. 😐

Larry Sushey.