Showing posts with label Funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Funny. Show all posts

Thursday, December 09, 2010

Contrary To Popular Belief

Crying babies are actually not cute. Maybe they're cute to their parents - especially their mothers, but they're not cute to me. No, I do not want to hear your crying baby while I'm talking with you on the phone. No, I don't want you to put your crying baby on the phone to say hello to Aunty. No, I don't want to be disrupted by your crying baby while I'm listening to the sermon. No, I don't want to sing a lullaby to him/her/it while Desperate Housewives is on. And heck no, I don't want your crying toddler to come and attempt to take the microphone from me while I'm MCing an event. One more crying-baby incident, and someone's baby will be getting kicked out of the window. Yeah, gasp all you want.

I don't have babies - can you tell? - but there's one thing I do know for a fact. Spanking a crying baby will do anything but stop that baby from crying. He/she/it will cry more. He/she/it will wail. That said, when your baby starts crying - say in the middle of a church sermon - the reasonable thing to do will be to stand up and take the crying baby out. If you feel like he/she/it deserves a spanking, then, please, move further away from the entrance/exit to the church and spank away. Do NOT, however, remain seated, turn the baby on his/her/its belly and deliver five consecutive hot smacks to his/her/its bum. This will provoke the baby and endanger your life. Church folks don't play!

Babies have a way of knowing the right time to not cry. And that is exactly when they start crying. One cannot blame them. It's innate to cry.  But their parents - especially their mothers - I'm not quite sure how to approach their insensitivity to us civilians. Yes, I called the rest of us civilians. If you're not the mother of the child, you just become casualty, like an innocent pedestrian standing on the corner of the street, waiting for that hand that signals you shouldn't walk to turn to WALK, only for you to be knocked down by a drunk driver. Should you not sit next to a baby, or should you not have come to church? I keep using church because that is where it bites me most.

And my people - God bless my Nigerian people - they are awfully good at spanking crying babies and then ignoring them when they cry. Sometimes, the mothers even smile at their wailing babies and then smile at your stone-hard face, as if to ask, "Aww. Look at him. Isn't he/she/it so adorable? The way he/she/it just wails and disrupts everyone and everything, isn't it simply breathtaking?"  Sometimes I swear those babies are possessed because somehow, they know how to cry just when the sermon gets good. Or maybe it's the mothers that are possessed. They know how to not hear their babies crying. It's amazing how deaf these mothers become to their babies' cries.

Don't get me started on ringing cell phones. Let me offer one word of advice. When in a place where your phone is not supposed to ring (Example: church, of course), and it rings, the first thing you should do is stop it from ringing. This can be done by pressing the side button or ignoring the call. Now, pay attention because this next thing you should do is very, very important: you should stop your phone from ringing a second time. This can be interpreted as (a) Put your phone on vibrate or (b) Put your phone on silent or (c) Turn your phone completely off. This may come as a shock to you, but when you ignore the caller the first time, the caller is likely to call again.

Have you ever been in church and witnessed a scene where a woman's phone rings, then she searches her deep tote frantically for the ringing gadget while it belches out a tune like, Lori le (or Mr. Endowed when it's a man's phone ringing)? She finally finds the phone, presses the side (or ignores the call) and throws the phone right back into the belly of her tote. Two minutes later, Lori Le is screaming again, and this woman is searching her tote. Again. You'd think she would have at least put the phone in her tote's side pocket.

And then, of course, the church's projector screens and televisions immediately light up with words like "PLEASE TURN YOUR CELL PHONES OFF," and while the words are still scrolling, three more cell phones start ringing simultaneously. This time, it's three different songs: Kiss Your Hand, I'll Make Love To You, and What You Bitches Want From Me?  The Pastor just shakes his head and ask, "God, where have I gone wrong with these people?"

But I did promise that I won't talk about cell phones. This post is about crying babies. And the mothers (parents) who won't shut them the heck up and let me have my solitude. One more disruption, and someone's baby is getting kicked the heck out. You may gasp again.


Friday, October 29, 2010

Biko Nu, I Am NOT Pregnant!!!

So, my last post about my mysterious hard nipples got more pregnancy-related comments than I cared to have. I currently do not care to have any. I now feel the need to come back and explain further. At the beginning of the post, I said, "Lately, my nipples have become advanced ..." I should have explained that by lately, I meant, Since December 2009 or thereabout. If I were pregnant ... oh, never mind! I don't even know why I'm entertaining this thought. 

Secondly, there are two questions (from commenters) that I promised I would come back and respond to. Today is the day.


Anonymous 3 commented, "Hi Vera, I totally understand what you are going through. Have you tried nipple covers? (I hope that is what they are called?) It can be a bit of wahala. Info on any other thing you have tried will be indeed helpful."


My response: No, I have not tried nipple covers. Per what else I have done, well, my breasts are not small (Femi, shut up in advance!), so I try to stay away from padded bras. Anything that will make them appear bigger is not in my best interest. On that note, for the sake of my hard nipples, I have gone against my preference and worn padded bras anyway. But these nipples, when they become hard, there's no repressing them. They get really hard and really big. Graphic, I know. I have worn double layers of clothing, and I have tried my best to stay away from the cold, but all attempts have been null and void. When they do get hard, I usually press them down with my thumbs. This, of course, is an action that can only be done in private.


Rethots commented, "'...what I say in response to this question...' maybe you should just say."


My response: When people see my hard nipples and ask, "But Vera, what are you thinking about?" Sometimes, I try to give a genuine answer. I say something like, "Oh, nothing. It's just the cold." Or "Nothing. They're just acting up." And of course, sometimes, I laugh and say, "It's not what you're thinking." When I say this, the asker then adds, "How do you know what I'm thinking?" Either way, the asker keeps winking and his/her eyebrows continue to go up and down rapidly.


P.S. If you have not heard, Aloofa has threatened that if he does not see a picture of my nipples when he comes back to my blog, he will start a movement. It will be called the People's Democratic Front for the Viewing Of Vera's Glorious Nipples (PDFVVGN).


...And all I'm thinking is, he called them glorious J


Glorious: Magnificent, Splendid, Wonderful, Celebrated, Superb, Famous.


Why don't we all try to pretend not to know the implication of a pair of nipples being famous? Again, let's remember that Aloofa called them glorious! (Without the exclamation mark, but I'm sure he was thinking it).


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Mysterious Case Of Vera Ezimora's Hard Nipples

Lately, my nipples have become advanced. They're like Vera's nipples 2.0! They seem to have evolved and gotten technologically, environmentally, emotionally, crazily in tune with the higher powers of Nipple-o-city. In other words, they have become very sensitive to everything, and I don't know why. Sometimes, I don't even know what everything means.

Naturally, these nipples get hard when the temperature drops around them --- like when I step outside and it's cold, like when the air conditioner stays on longer than it should, or like when I hang around the ice cream aisle too long. Sometimes, a chilling story can have the same effect on them --- like when I heard the story about the  burnt-face man who was blessed with a gorgeous wife, but for whatever reason, could not (still cannot) control his libido around other women. That's a chilling story, no?

Lately, however, my nipples have gone buck wild. They no longer get hard during these isolated times. They seem to get hard every time. I don't even know what compels them anymore. Whether it's hot or cold, they are hard. Whether I'm hearing a chilling story or watching a political ad campaign, they still get hard. In the comfort of my bedroom and in the congregation of my church, they get hard. Under a polyester bra and under a thick padded bra, they get hard ... and still manage to poke through my layers of clothes.

It has now become a matter of embarrassment. Those that know about my condition are constantly watching out for their hardness - which naturally, happens at the most inappropriate places and at the most inappropriate times.  It's only when I see the strange stares or hear the muffled giggles that I realize my two puppies are out there, sending a message that I have not told them to send.

And, of course, I sometimes get the subjective question, "But Vera, what are you thinking about?" No matter what I say in response to this question, I am already guilty in the eyes of my asker, which is always evident by the smile on his/her face and the rapid up-and-down movement of his/her eyebrows. It's almost a rhetorical question because the asker swears he/she already knows what is on my mind. There's apparently no thought on the face of the earth that would make a girl's nipples hard --- apart from thoughts of sex. Or thoughts of him - whoever he may be. He just may be Jesus, but no one would believe that anyway.

I could keep doing what I have been doing to reduce my embarrassment: crossing my arms across my chest. But I can only sit or stand in this position for so long. So what's a girl to do? Putting a picture up would have been splendid, I'm sure, but we're trying to reduce my humiliation here.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Soooo... She Got Pulled Over

Mom was jejely driving when she got pulled over. Before she finished her story, I was ready to say, "I told you to stop driving like that!" My mom is notorious for giving people an almost-coronary-attack while she's driving. Let's just say her way of switching lanes and making turns are neither friendly to her SUV nor the passengers that let themselves be transported in it. But I digress.

Mom has been pulled over before, most times for driving above the speed limit. But this time, she was pulled over for something else. I'll quote the warning citation before I explain it.

"You have received a warning for the following violation(s):

DRIVING A VEHICLE WHILE A REMOVABLE WINDSHIELD PLACARD IS HANGING FROM THE INSIDE REARVIEW MIRROR"

What it means: My mother was busy cruising around town with what you see below:

The culprits

And what that means, essentially, is that my mom was driving around town with a Hello Kitty stuffed face and a Winnie The Pooh face. Oh, and a rosary! Apparently, it is illegal to drive around with anything hanging on your rearview mirror. Seriously? Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Maryland cops must have stolen the Jesus that used to be on my rearview mirror!

Since the offense on my mother's traffic violation warning has an actual code, I guess it is in fact a real offense.  Thank God it wasn't a ticket.  That said, I only have two questions:

1.  How many people know that this is an offense? I certainly did not. And lots of people - if not most - drive around with some kind of "removable windshield placard" hanging on their rearview mirror.

2.  How many people has this cop pulled over for this offense?

Mom's theory: Since it was a White cop who pulled her over, he clearly did it for the classic reason: DWB (Driving While Black). He had nothing else on her, so he decided to give her a warning for daring to drive with Hello Kitty and Winnie The Pooh hanging on her rearview mirror.

My first theory: Cops have a quota of how many traffic violation tickets and warnings they have to hand out each week/month/season/quarter. The cop that pulled my mom over clearly hadn't reached his quota and was desperately trying to do so.

My second theory: The cop that pulled mom over was a rookie (new) cop, had milk on his breadth, and he was just happy to exercise his new found power, pulling drivers over for whatever and handing tickets and warnings to them.

Oh, then there's this third theory: The cop noticed my mom from afar, instantly fell in love with her with her high yellow skin tone, and did what he could to speak to her.  He has since been camping outside our house, stalking his new found love, and daydreaming about their wedding in Africa. He just wishes he knew which animal he'd rather ride on for their wedding: an elephant or a hippo?

What say you?

Saturday, September 04, 2010

Of Course, You May Get Divorced

But....

You must refund my money! I have attended a lot of weddings. I am shocked and perplexed whenever someone tells me that he/she has never been to a wedding since they came to America donkey years ago. Each year, I attend at least three weddings.  Attending weddings can be expensive, depending on who the couple is and your participation level in the wedding. Let me break it down. The boxes represent the cost.



Category
Wedding outfit
Asoebi
Gift
Money to throw while they’re dancing
Misc.
Total
Going as part of the wedding party (bridesmaid/groomsman)
Going as a family member

Going as a close friend

Going strictly as a guest

Going as a guest’s guest








In case you did not notice, going as a guest's guest costs nothing --- unless you want it to. I have attended weddings as all of the above, and attending as part of the wedding party has been the most expensive for me. It's understandable. I'm not complaining (about the financial cost).

The problem is that the divorce/separation rate among Nigerians has been on a steady rise, and I take personal offense to it. Why? Because I spent my money to attend their wedding, damn it! I look left, right, and center, and people are getting divorced, separated, or being given eviction notices from their matrimonial homes.

Henceforth, I am stating publicly: If I attended your wedding and spent a dime for/at it, you may get divorced, but at the time of your divorce, I want a complete refund of all my money --- plus interest.  Gbam! Let no one say I did not say it.

*** In other news, Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio would be making a bold come-back on Saturday, September 18th at its usual time (10am U.S. Eastern/ 3pm Nigerian Time). We'll be talking about the Single Married Man. Mustapha will be co-hosting. Set your reminder.

*** In other, other news, I saw the movie Piranha yesterday, and I am now a firm believer that there does exist something more ferocious than the fury of a woman scorned. The way that man's penis was chewed and spat out, Lorena Bobbitt was just an appetizer. The preview is below.



LinkWithin

Blog Widget by LinkWithin