February 2012


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 2nd 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.

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!