D-Day!!

Yes oooo.

Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio launches today. If you think I am nervous, then you are soooo wrong - NOT! Is it too late to cancel or reschedule? Alright fine, it's too late.

I have never done radio before, so I'm hoping I sound okay. I'm hoping I don't start giggling hysterically on the air. It's happened so many times. Giggling hysterically and uncontrollably is not a new thing for me, but I shall not be shamed!

I don't wanna have to discuss this radio on every post, so dear Verastic readers, please help me to help you. Look, it is by force that you will support me ooo! Or else, don't just think I will not sue all of you to court one by one. Yes, my famous and loyal lawyer, LusciousRon will personally see to it that the whole lot of you are chained to the computer, and by force, by force, you must listen to my show AND love it! Don't say you weren't warned.

On that note, you should know that I currently have only three topics lined up. Reason is that I still have to decide on a particular day and time to do the show. I'll be putting up a poll soon for your opinion.

In light of helping me, please send me e-mails concerning these topics. Send your stories/comments/questions to radio@verastic.com or call/text 443-934-9039. If you're sending comments or stories, I'd rather have it in writing, please. It'd be a little difficult typing

everything you're saying. Please go to the show website and set up reminders.

I gather some people are still a little confused, so let me clarify: there are two ways to listen to the show

1. You can listen to the show live by going to the show's website

2. You can listen by dialing the call-in number 646-929-1905. You'll be able to hear everything and also able to join the conversation, if you wish....and I hope you will wish :-)

You can be a part of the conversation by...

1. Dialing the call-in number

2. Clicking on "Click To Talk" on the website. But you'll have to be a member of the website in order to be able to dial in directly. It's absolutely free.

If you miss the show, you can download it for free and listen to it. Or you can just play it right from the player. There's a player installed on the sidebar, and it will always have the last three episodes.

Date	U.S. Eastern Time	Nigerian Time	Topic & Description	Co-host
Tuesday, June 23rd2009	6:00 PM	11:00 PM	Dates: Whose Bill Is It Anyway? – Just one of those things men and women are confused about. Who should actually pay the bill for a date?	Funmie
Thursday, July 2nd2009	10:00 AM	3:00 PM	Nigerian Tact (Or Lack Of It) – This will talk about how Nigerians are famous for just saying it as it is with no diplomacy or discretion whatsoever.	*No one yet*
Saturday, July 11th2009	10:00 AM	3:00 PM	Nigerian Tact (Or Lack Of It) – This will talk about how Nigerians are famous for just saying it as it is with no diplomacy or discretion whatsoever.	*Taken*

Contact:

Show website: www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic

Facebook Group

Call-in number: 646-929-1905

Email: radio@verastic.com

Number (off the air): 1-443-934-9039

Alrighty then! Let's go there.....! See ya.... ;)

Yay To The Daddies!

It's Father's Day today.

I'm not quite sure what to say about my Daddy. I feel like I have said most things. The rest, I just don't know how to say. I love the man to bits. I don't think he can ever do me wrong. Mom believes I always take my Dad's side. I beg to defer. But if it's true, then I am not surprised.

Dad has made so many mistakes - most of which he will never admit. But I know. And I think he knows that I know. In spite of all his mistakes, he's still my boo. He says and does the darndest things. From the outside looking in, one would conclude his wife is the luckiest woman on earth. Wonder what Mom has to say about that. Knowing my Mom, her sentence will start something like, "Luckiest?? Hmm. Let me tell you what that man did to me in 1979...." 1979 is just a random year I picked, but if you probe Mom enough, I'm sure she'll remember something he did.

I have big dreams for my Father. I'd love to help him build another clinic in a different State. I think he's tired of Plateau State. Too many Christian/Muslim wars. Used to be a peaceful State - "The State of peace and tourism..." Wonder if they still have the same punchline. I dream of having enough money to fly him somewhere for a vacation. Since he returned from Russia decades ago, the man has not left the country again. I can't wait to have him walk me down the aisle (and no, I am not yet engaged); I bet he'll say something silly that'll have me in stitches while I'm walking.

Been a while since we played WHOT card game. He always puts some money down for whoever wins. I'm never be too old to spend his money. I really miss rubbing his bald head. It's so bald and smooth that it looks like hair never even grew there. I miss rubbing his big belly. Mom calls is "afo beer" (beer gut). Of course, he disagrees.

So on this Father's Day, I wish Dad a day of unspeakable blessings and favors from God. May his health be completely restored. May he be blessed with long life and prosperity. May he be blessed with wisdom and understanding. May he remain my funny man. I wish all the fathers and fathers-to-be a very happy Father's day. Most especially, I wish Mr. Shoe's Dad & Grandad a very happy Father's day. To them, I say, "chop knuckle for bringing up such a wonderful son/grandson." In short, I throway serious yansh for them. Dem no fall my hand @ allll.

Oh. Speaking of Mr. Shoes, I wish him a very, very happy Father's day (no, he's not yet a father, and no, I am not pregnant. Thank you very much). I wish him long life and prosperity. I pray he is blessed with children that will love, honor, and adore him. I pray he'll be a godly father - the kind God wants all his children to be. I pray he meets success concerning everything and everyone in his life. I pray he is blessed and favored in all areas of his life. Amen.

For all of you who think you are not yet fathers, don't be too sure. You'll be surprised what a DNA test will reveal. Chop clean mouth no dey reign again ooo.

Happy fathering.

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Updates on Verastically Speakin' Talk Radio

* June 23rd 2009 6PM (U.S. Eastern), 11PM (Naija time) - Premiere Date - Topic: Whose Bill Is It Anyway? E-mail radio@verastic.com or text 443-934-9039 with your views/date stories.

* July 2nd 2009 10AM (U.S. Eastern), 3PM (Naija time) - 2nd episode - Topic: Tact (Or Lack Of It). E-mail radio@verastic.com or text 443-934-9039 with your views/tact stories. This topic is about how we don't have a lot of tact in the things we say. I'm sure most of us have experienced our tactlessness.

Please visit the radio site to set up reminders for the shows. Call/text/e-mail if you have any questions.

Be blessed!

P.S. I updated my picture site with pictures of Chidi (my boyfriend, Busola's son). Yeah, it only took me 6 months. Oops.

P.P.S. Blogger don mess up! My blog roll has disappeared. What the frack?? Great. Just what I need right now... :@ (angry face)

So I Finally Walked...

Funms, sebi you dey hear me so??? Yes, I walked.

I've always loved taking walks. I think it releases endorphins. Maybe I'm wrong, but I love it. Haven't been taking walks in the past... oh, I don't know.... yeah, eight years! I've walked in the past eight years, but only when I've needed to - not for pleasure. Been planning on walking since last week, but I've been scared of ojuju catching me (I'll explain later what I consider as ojuju).

So on Sunday, I did it. I was going to walk at 7:00 PM, but the sun was still out and burning bright. Since I didn't want to bake or roast, I decided to wait. So I waited till 9:10 PM. It was getting dark, but not completely dark. Armed with my mp3 player, my keys, and my dysfunctional blackberry (that keeps deleting my call records & text messages), I began my walk. As soon as I started, I met ojuju #1.

Ojuju #1: Insects. I hate the flipping tiny, little suckers. They fly everywhere, hover over my head, get in my face (almost in my nose sef), and then have the audacity to perch on me. What insolence! And those little flying insects that have flashing green lights... oh, what I would do to crush every single one of them.

But I kept walking. Twisting my waist here, gyrating my hips there. I kept on walking. Styling and profiling. Okay, maybe I'm exxagerating, but the walk was sweet sha. I admired the trees. Silently praised God for His awesomeness. Bracket was singing "Ada Owerri" in my ears. It took everything in me to not start dancing on the streets. Kept walking. Noticed things I hadn't noticed before. Like a sign that says they'll be building stores around the area. Maybe I should call and rent a store for blogging. America is already in debt. What difference will it make if I file bankruptcy at this point? I drive on that road about five days a week, but I only noticed the sign today. Everything was great until I saw ojuju #2.

Ojuju #2: A big, white dog that looked more like a polar bear - with a long, furry, white tail, of course. It was running alone on the opposite side of the road. I don't do dogs. I love them as long as they're mine. This polar bear that called itself a dog was not mine, so I froze right where I was standing. Some day I'll blog about my beef with dogs. Not today. This post is long enough as it is. Funny enough, the girl on the other side of the street (where the dog was) also froze when she spotted the animal. We looked at each other and laughed, strangers with a familiar fear. Then we kept walking, glancing at each other every few seconds and exchanging nervous smiles.

That dog messed up my flow. Made me want to turn back. But I kept walking. Was determined to come back and tell Funms that I walked. The dog was ahead of me, so I kept my eyes on it. Didn't seem harmful or unfriendly, but I'm human, and that dog - no matter its color or its cuteness - was still a darn dog. Who even owned the dog?? People should not let their dogs run around like that doggonit!

Eventually, it made a right turn while I continued straight. I kept glancing back, trying to make sure it didn't come back out. I was getting comfortable, and then I spotted it again. Oh, that was just it! I had had it. I turned around and started walking back home. That's where I met Ojuju #3.

Ojuju #3: I was walking on the right side of the road, so cars were coming up behind me. I was very, very paranoid. That was my ojuju. Kept feeling like a car would knock my elbow off. Don't blame me. My mother instilled that fear in me when I was young. "Don't walk close to the road; a car will knock your hand off." Same reason I never bring my hand out of the window while I'm driving. A car will knock it off. So I kept glancing back every few seconds, watching out for cars and my furry enemy. Then ojuju #4 came along.

Ojuju #4: Some African-American man in a car stopped by. Had to happen at some point, right? Don't remember the kind of car, but I think it was either gold or brown. I think he had a baby at the backseat. I might be wrong. It was dark.

Man: **He said something I didn't hear. Was listening to music**
Me: What? [Took my earphones off]
Man: You need a ride?
Me: No, thanks.
Man: Can I call you?
Me: No.
Man: Can you call me?

Well, I just put my earphones back on and kept walking. Rubbish. It's all my fault. I bothered to give him audience. When I was almost home, Electric Slide came up on my mp3 player (Yes, I have the electric slide on my mp3 player. That's how much I love that stuff!). I wiggled a little bit while I was on the road. It was too hard to resist. It took all the self-control I had not to slide my brown butt back home. Made it back home at 9:47 PM. Thiry-seven minutes. Not bad. Will walk longer next time, hopefully.

Lessons Learned:
* Leave home a bit earlier - between 8 and 8:30 PM
* Don't wear slippers next time. Athletic shoes will work best.
* Take "sheltox" along (insecticides, for those that are not Nigerians). Thou shall spray every little bugger that comes thy way.
* Take a baseball bat in case you run into the likes of ojuju #2 and ojuju #3

So yeah, I finally walked.

P.S. I'm still receiving e-mails/texts for the upcoming radio show www.blogtalkradio.com/verastic Topic is "Dates: Whose Bill Is It Anyway?" Send me your questions about it. Or if you have stories about going on dates and having a payment-confusion situation, please send them!! Won't mention your name on the show. Thanks, darlings!! radio@verastic.com 443-934-9039

If I Could Go Back In Time...

I would. If I could go back in time and undo so many stupid things I did, I would. If I could go back in time, back to when I was innocent and clueless about the sins and wickedness of the world, I would. If I could go back time and take a different path, get to know God sooner, be a lot wiser, I would. But I can't.

So I cannot help but wonder, what would have happened if Eve had not fallen for the devil's antics? What would have happened if the devil never succeeded in fooling Eve? What would have happened if the devil did not succeed in fooling Eve or anyone else? Where would we be today? Would we still be parading the naked in the garden of Eden? Would we still not know the difference between good and bad?

If Eve had not fallen, would the punishment for men and women be non-existent? If Eve had not fallen, men would not have to toil for the upkeep of themselves and their family. Women would not suffer the pain of childbirth. But I also wonder, would there be menstrual cycles, or is that just as a result of Eve's sins? Would there be sex, or is that part of knowing the difference between good and evil. If there is no sex, how would we have children? Oh, yeah... just like the Virgin Mary did. If there is no child birth, how would we give birth? Are we gonna wake up one morning and discover we are now parents?

Without Eve's sin, does that mean there would be no money? After all, [the love of] money is the root of all evil. Without Eve's sin, does that mean there would be no such thing as having a career et al? Why have a career since there is no such thing as money? After all, money is what compels us to have careers. Without the sin of our first parents, there would be no cancer, no HIV, no heart disease, no diabetes, no headaches. Nothing. We'll be perfect. No birth deformities. No broken bones. No unusual genes causing unusual illnesses like down syndrome. No sickle cell anemia.

How would we get married? Would we still court/date? Would there be any such thing as kissing? Would oral sex exist? Fingering? Anal sex? Fetishes? If the sins of our first parents were non-existent, there will be no betrayal. No cheating. No hate. No insecurities. No infidelities. No barreness. No troubles. No enemies. No prejudice.

No hurricanes. No fires. No air crashes. Would we even have air planes? No mudslides. No tsunamis. No hails. No erosions. No volcanos. No tornados. No mistakes. Will we have doctors? If we did, they would never, ever make mistakes. Everyone will be perfect. Everyone will be happy. Perfect. Happy. Perfect. Happy. Perfect. Happy and perfect. We'll spend our days praising God. Singing of His goodness and awesomeness. Adoring Him. Magnifying Him.

Ah, Adam and Eve, una fall my hand oooo! See the kin life I for dey live. I woulda been rolling deep, living the good life, life on the fast lane (with God, of course). Chei. Now, I'm stuck with tryna fight the damn devil everyday. Now I'm stuck with binding and casting, rejecting and refuting, praying and hoping, believing and trusting.

God dey sha.....!!!

Disclaimer: Dear God, this is not an indication that I am craving Heaven right now - at least not the Heaven that is in Heaven. If there is a way for me to experience Heaven while still on earth, then please, Father, bring it on! Yes, yes, I will meet You some day, but not anytime soon. When I'm 114, I'll come meet You. That's what we agreed on, remember?

I Quit Blogging

Yes, I realize that this comes as a big shock to everyone, but the fact is that I have been struggling to update this blog. So far, I have managed to update it every three days as usual, but it has been painful. Too many things are going on. School, unfinished book, the new online radio show (which will premiere on June 23rd), and of course, life too is still going on.

I thought I could cope with both (blogging and radio-ing), but apparently, I cannot. But don't feel too bad. The radio site actually has a blog thingy, so I can still blog from there, but it will be sporadic, and probably not as detailed. I'm not gonna shut this blog down - just in case I do decide (by some twist of fate) to return.

I will keep writing articles though and updating my other blog. I'll also remain active on Twitter, Facebook, and whatever social network the world wide web has conjured up. Oh, speaking of Twitter, I'm starting to get the hang of it. Good stuff. Quite addictive too.

So without further ado, I'd like to ask... is it too late to say I'm really kidding about quitting my blog?? Hehehehehe. Of course, I'm not quitting! Quitting ke? Lai lai!! I'm actually only trying to expand beyond just writing - which is why I'm starting the online radio show.

Now that I have your attention, listen read carefully: I will be starting an online radio show. It will broadcast LIVE (although you can download it for FREE or listen to it online if you do miss it). Please, please... give your sister some support. By that, I mean you should join me and call in. Yeah, you can totally call in and join the conversation for FREE too! For those that live out of the country, I realize that calling in might be expensive, but there is an alternative. You can join the website (become a member) and then you'll be able to click the 'Call Now' button during the LIVE segment. It won't cost you anything; just have a mic.

Right now, I don't have a particular day and time for the show because I don't know which day will work best for most people. For the first three episodes, I'll have different days and times, but I will let you know before the day comes up. The show will be about us (Nigerians, friends of Nigeria, people that have heard of Nigeria... and you know... all human beings in general). We'll be discussing anything and everything as it relates to us . Don't worry; it'll be fun stuff. I won't be discussing oral sex. Oh, wait... that is the fun stuff!

I thought long & hard before I came up with the name for the show. Introducing: Verastically Speakin!!' Hehehe. How creative, huh? (Can you read my sarcasm?) If you have contributions for the radio (discussion topics, questions about upcoming topics, or if you wanna be a guest/cohost), email radio@verastic.com .... If it'll make any positive difference, you should know that I am on my knees begging AND I didn't mean to fool you into thinking that I'm quitting my blog. Obviously, it was the handwork of the devil. Bad devil, bad devil!

On Tuesday, June 23rd (the first day of the show ... no, I'm not hyperventilating - a lot), the topic for the day will be Dates: Whose Bill Is It Anyway? Apparently, we (men & women) don't quite agree on whose bill it should be. Maybe after we tackle it together on the air, we can decide whose bill it really is. That way, next time you're on a date - for those who actually go on dates - you can refuse to pay and say, "I heard on an online radio show that it's your bill!!!" Don't say you heard from Vera oooo. Ehen... moving along...

So I'm not just writing about this because I like typing. I'm writing cause I need you to prove your Verastic Love-o-meter by helping me out. Send me questions concerning this topic. Send me stories concerning this topic (like when you went on a date and thought he/she would pay but didn't pay). And on the day of the actual premiere, tune in AND call in. Please, please, please. I don't know how else to plead. I really am on my knees. Okay, maybe I'm sitting down, but if I weren't so tired, I would be on my knees.

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Contact Info (click on the links):

Visit Verastically Speakin' Radio

Join Facebook Group

Follow on Twitter

radio@verastic.com (for all e-mails concerning the radio)

Call in number for the radio: 646-929-1905

Contact number off the radio: 443-934-9039 (You can text this number with your questions/stories/comments/inquiries too).

P. S. When you go to the show's website, you'll see the scheduled show (and as time goes on, I'll schedule more shows). But click on "Remind Me" and it'll prompt you for your e-mail address. That way, when the show is ready to air, you'll receive a reminder - although I'll still mention it on my blog, on twitter, and on facebook.

If you do this for me, I will... I will... I will... in fact, I don't know what I will do.

I'm Feeling Lolo-Ish

Yes, Lolo-ish. As in Lolo the Queen. Lolo-ish as in Queenish. I feel like becoming a Lolo. Suddenly the idea of being referred to as "Your Majesty" isn't so bad. I would love to clap my hands and have five maids appear, ready to do just about anything. Maybe remove a hair from my face. Maybe rub lip gloss on my lips. Actually, scratch that. I don't really like people's hands on my lips. Well, I like certain people's hands on my lips. Not everyone's.

But as I was saying. It'd be nice to have maids who are ready to do anything for me. Maybe they'll help me blink my eyes. Or help me snap my fingers. Or help me hiss. Maybe I've just done number two and I don't feel like wiping myself. Guess who will do it? Yeap, the maids! Whatever I need to get done, the maids will be readily available. And I'll have palace guards too. They'll oil my scalp, massage my feet, rub my back, etc... you know, regular stuff that palace guards do (or should do).

I've told Mr. Shoes to go and run for the Igwe position in his town - whether the position exists or not, and whether he qualifies or not. But he thinks I'm being funny. I think I'm just gonna go back to my own town & run for the Lolo position. It'll be a little tricky because my town doesn't have an Igwe position, so it especially doesn't have a Lolo position, but nothing is written in stone, right? Things change. After all, once upon a time, we were all heterosexuals in this world - back when it was only Adam & Eve. But I digress...

I feel like being a Lolo. I want to have my body adorned with the most beautiful beads the land has to offer. I want to be clothed in royalty. I want my husband to make royal love to me, so I can get royally pregnant, have some bonafide royal children, and be royally royal for all royal eternity.

That's not too much to ask, is it?

Fresh Air

Heaven knows I need some of this right now.  It'd be nice if I could just have a nice place to vacation to.  It'd be really nice if I had a loving volunteer family somewhere that would welcome me into their home every summer.  It'd be really, really nice to just wake up and think of nothing else but the fun I would have for the day.  Ah, but I'm no longer between the ages of 6 and 12.  In fact, considering how many when-are-you-getting-married questions I have been receiving lately, I think they expect me to have a child between the ages of 6 and 12 (instead of wishing I were between the ages of 6 & 12).  

So that brings me to my main gist: Fresh Air.  Ever heard?  Since 1877 (that's right, lonnnnnnng before you were born, and right after I was born), Fresh Air has been providing inner city kids with that summer vacation.  You know the one they can't stop talking about when they go back to school?  Yeap, that one.  Since 1877, volunteer host families have been opening their doors to these kids and hosting them for the summer.  Have I mentioned just how much I wish I were between the ages of 6 and 12?  I tell you, I'll be off in a heart beat.  But alas, I'm just a wee little bit above the age limit.  A wee little bit, I said.

So why am I talking about this?  Well, I realize the economy isn't particularly in its best shape, but let's not underestimate what the littlest help can do.  When these children go for these vacations, their lives are changed forever - with little wonder why.  From now till June 30th, any amount of money you donate to Fresh Air will be matched dollar-for-dollar.  So if you donate $100, that means one of the generous donors will match your gift by also giving $100.  And you know what that means?  $200 for the kids! [This is only an example; you do not have to give $100.  Any amount you give is fine].

 If you can help, please help.  Don't let anything hold you back.  We ought to give these wonderful children some breath of fresh air.

www.freshair.org 

1-800-367-0003

It's My Mommy's Birthday

My gorgeous mommy turns plus one today.  I was tempted to put up a picture.  But I decided maybe next year.

I've been looking at her a lot recently.  She has changed.  Age is beginning to creep up on my ageless mommy.  Her hair is not quite as dark as it used to be.  Greys are sprouting up everywhere.  I see the wrinkles on her face.  When she smiles, they're there.  When she laughs, they're there.  She doesn't see quite as well anymore.  She cannot read without her glasses, and even with her glasses, she has to hold the paper at a certain distance.

A decade ago, she had tons of shoes with pencil-thin heels.  She walked majestically on them.  Dad could never understand how she walked in them.  She's probably the reason why I love heels so much now.  These days, mom's heels aren't quite as high.  Or as thin.  They're lower and fatter, and she doesn't wear them for so long anymore.

When I look at my mommy, I see a woman who is beautiful - both inside and out.  She pisses me off so many times, but more times than that, I get on my knees and thank God for her.  On my account, she has given up so much, done so much, and suffered so much.  And on this XXth birthday of hers, I pray to God once again to favor me, and give me the strength to do the little things that excite this woman He gave me to.  I pray to be able to buy her that freezer full of stockfish she has been dreaming about.  I pray to send her on a trip to Russia, London, and wherever else she's been dreaming about.  I pray to get her that big house with the two garages - a house she would not have to pay for because I, her only daughter will take care of it.

On this birthday of hers, I am reminded of all the dreams I have for my mother.  Things I intend to do for her.  Little ways I intend to say thank you for being the best mother.  No amount of gifts can ever be enough, but knowing my mother, she will not say no to them.  I dream of handing her gifts and having her sing that Igbo song that says, "If not the child, who else will give?"  I intend to give her the world, plus me in it.

So on this blessed day of June 2nd 2009, I want to wish my dear, beautiful, wonderful mommy a very, very happy birthday.  I wish her health, joy, peace, long life, and prosperity.  I wish her the blessings and favor of the Lord, and I pray that He who made her meets her at the point of her needs.  I pray that He showers more blessings on her than she ever thought possible because I know that He is able to do exceedingly and abundantly more than we expect.  I pray that He makes Himself manifest in her life.

And we all said, AMEN!!!!!

Happy birthday, mommy!

Feeling A Bit Down

UPDATE: Thank you all for all your wonderful comments, e-mails, and offline messages.  I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday.  I'm feeling a lot better.  Expect my update tomorrow.  Thanks!!!

I know I'm supposed to update today, but I'm not feeling too good.  I'm running a mysterious fever and just generally feeling sick.  Can't explain how I'm feeling.  Mom asked, "How am I supposed to carry someone who has broken hips?  If you don't tell me how you're feeling, I can't help you."  I'll tell her how I'm feeling once I figure it out.  

I'm cold even though it's hot.  Cold goosebumps have nested on my arms, telling me I'm cold.  Yeah, thanks for telling me.  Every deep breath I take, the goosebumps fatten.  They must feed on oxygen.  Or maybe they feed on carbon dioxide.  They fatten when I exhale.  Yeah, definitely carbon dioxide.  I've popped a couple of ibuprofens.  Hope to be better by morning.  Will update in three days.  Hate feeling like this.

Anyone know if goosebumps can be auctioned on Ebay?  Everything sells on Ebay.  When I exhale, my scalp itches. Feels like the hairs on the center of my head are all standing.  They must be congregating, literally having a meeting on my head.  They ought to keep it quiet - or at least limit their movement.

Seriously feel like crying.  Did I mention I hate feeling like this?  Maybe my body is just tired. Mom thinks I've eaten too many peanuts in the last couple of days.  [Funmi brought some Naija peanuts back, and I've been munching away - with soaked garri, of course.  Come to think of it, that's all I've eaten today.  A bowl of garri, peanuts & sugar].  Maybe I've taken in too much sugar recently.  I don't know.  Doubt if it's the peanuts.  They're so pretty.  They have to be innocent.  But sugar is evil.  It tastes so sweet, but one never knows its intention in the body.

I'm asking, praying, and hoping that the long, healing arm of God touches me and cleanses me completely - from the crown of my head to the sole of my feet.  I'll also prefer for the blood of Jesus to replace my blood.  His blood is wayyy cooler.  It heals, protects, and cleanses.  Mine is just blood.  Regular good ol blood.  It's Verastic blood, but blood nonetheless.  I'll be well tomorrow.  I'll be cleansed completely.  It's been written.  So shall it be.  Amen.  I'll feel better tomorrow.

Well, I just wanted to come here and write two lines or so, telling you that I'm down.  So much for being too weak to update.  I think I've just updated.  May the Lord be praised.  So have me in your prayers, please.  Even if you have other things to pray about - which I'm sure you do - just cancel them all and put me first.  No, it's not selfish of me to request that of you.

I'll be back.  Miss me.  Seriously, miss me.  I'll be checking everyone's Verastic Missometer, and God help you if you're not missing me.  Don't be found not missing me.  

Ironic, huh?

Something funny has been happening these days.  I step out of the car, lock it (with the remote), walk toward my destination, and then, suddenly feel like I didn't lock the car.  So I just walk right back to the car to make sure it's locked.  So far, every time I have come back, the car has been locked.  I laugh at myself sometimes.  I wonder why I bother coming back every single time (knowing somewhere in my heart that the car is locked), but it's because I never remember locking it.

On the contrary, some days, I am too sure about locking the car (what's that they say about being too sure again?); I walk to my destination (sometimes my destination is my home; I'm retiring for the night), and I settle down with easeness and calmness.  And confidence.  And assurance.  Because I know I locked the car.

But then I come back to the car later (or in the morning), and I am almost shocked out of my pants.  Except that sometimes I'm not wearing pants (trousers).  Or maybe my pants are too tight, so I can't really be shocked out of them.  But I digress.  My car isn't locked.  It's wide open.  One time, the back passenger window at the right was winded down.  But my car is always safe.  And so is everything in it - not that there is much anyway.  I only have a box of tissue sitting on the front passenger seat.  Sometimes, a few sheets of paper on the back seat.

But I cannot help but wonder, why do I even bother locking this car?  It's evident that I am not the reason why the car has not been broken into.  Someone higher than me has been watching over it.  Locked or unlocked, if someone wanted to, someone would break into it.  But someone has not wanted to.  No one has wanted to.  

So He that watches over me also watches over my property.  He watches over everything that concerns me.  He sees to it that I am well taken care of.  He sees to it that I, his unloyal, unworthy daughter, lack nothing.  And even though I always falter, and I always disappoint him, and I always make mistakes, somehow, he anticipates them because He knows what I will do before I even do them.  He did after all know me before I was. 

My people, this is the year of joy unspeakable.  Make sure nothing stops you from experiencing that God-given joy.

DISCLAIMER: This is NOT an endorsement to leave your car unlocked oooo!  If you do, whatever you see, that one is your own.  Let no one say Vera said....

P.S. Funmi is coming back from Naija today - after one long month.  *sigh*  Thank goodness!  I need someone to say silly things to me.  Hehehehe.  If it seems as if I'm saying Funmi is silly, well.... that's your judgement, not mine.

Men, Men, Men!!!

That is apparently all we, women talk about.  I was looking at the table of contents for this month's Today's Black Woman magazine (with my girl, Jennifer Hudson on the cover), and look what I found...

So apparently, we have nothing else to discuss but men.  Well, I disagree!!  What about uhm...?  And uhm....?  Well, how about....?  Hmmmm.  Interesting.  Oh, well.  You can't say I never tried to defend womanhood.  Hehehehe.

Men Are Under Immense Pressure

All this time, I thought women were under so much pressure.  Well, we are.  We are under pressure to be skinny, wrinkle-free, spotless, and forever 21.  Oh, let's not forget the pressure of having breasts that don't succumb to gravity, a booty that can hold a glass of water, a stomach as flat as an ironing board... you get the idea.  

But I was going through my spam folder (for my verastic email), just in case any good mail ended up there, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for men.  My spam folder has been bombarded will emails calling for me to immediately enlarge my penis size.  They must think I'm a man.  Either that or they think I'm a shemale.  Why else would my folder be flooded with crap like this? 

I was really curious to open some of them, but I cannot imagine the kind of trojan horse that will attack my laptop, so I'm just gonna pass.  However, their subjects are quite funny.  Here are a few.  My thoughts are in parenthesis.

1.  The best way to prove your virility is to get a Submariner SS watch. (What the heck is a submariner ss watch???)

2.  Impress Her In The Bedroom (I'd really rather not.)

3.  Make Her Say Yes - 3 Tips To Getting Your Lover Into Bed (So these are tips to trick her into bed.)

4.  Masturbation Myths (Tempting, but I'll pass.)

5.  Feeling Unneeded In Bed?  We Can Change It To A Different Feeling (LOL!  Honestly, I'm feeling unndeed in bed.  Those stuffed animals do not appreciate my body warmth @ all!)

6.  Your Time For Growth Enhancement (If you're talking about enhancing what I think you're talking about enhancing, then I'm sorry, I don't have it).

7.  From Now On, You Will Be Able To Please Any Size Queen (I don't know if I should be pleased about this, but I'm not.)

8.  She Can Have An Orgasm Just By Looking At Your Submariner SS Watch (Nawa o!  What is this watch made out of biko?  One thing is for sure: I have never, ever seen it.)

9. Thicker, More Muscular Manhood (For who exactly?)

10.  Make An Impression Of A Lady From The Highest Circles (I don't understand.)

11.  Lion Power In The Bedroom (I'd prefer Lioness)

12.  Shove Your Giant And Give Her Real Tension (I know this is supposed to sound dirty, but goodness, does it have to be so graphic?)

13.  Now You Can Please Your Brand New Girlfriend Easily (Brand new, yes.  Girlfriend, no.)

14.  Your Super Mega Beast Will Grow Like On Yeast (I don't understand, but I think 'super mega beast' and 'yeast' should not appear in the same sentence.)

15.  Your Bulge Will Be So Noticeable You Will Have To Wear A Kilt (And where exactly  would this bulge be located?)

16.  Your Watch Will Understand You Better Than Anyone Else (This watch again????  I'm too afraid of trojans. Or else, I woulda googled it).

17.  Women Love Enormous Tools, and Believe Us, That's The Rule (Women, let your voices be heard: how true is this?)

18.  Break Those Chains That Have Forged Your Manhood (LOL!  This almost sounds like we're binding the devil.  Break those shackles!)

19.  Now You Don't Have To Look For Something To Cover Your Manhood When You're Naked (Men do that?  Eyaa.  Poor them.)

20.  You Can Have A VIP Male Toy Inside Your Pants (Please explain.)

Now, ladies, aren't you glad you're a woman???  Imagine if you were under so much pressure to increase your manhood, please her in bed, and make her have an orgasm just by looking at your watch.  Boy!!!  I'm glad I'm a woman. 

Now all I have to do is figure out how to stay become skinny, remain spotless clean up all my spots, keep my breasts from falling have a breast reconstructive surgery, remain wrinkle-free, keep my flat tummy have surgery to take off some ribs and liposuction to flaten my stomach, plump up my butt (so that it can comfortably sit at least 5 people), and of course, remain 21 reverse my age to 21.

Yeap, being a woman is soooooooooooooooo much easier.  

100 Truths

If it looks like I have put up a lazy post, that's because I have.  I was tagged by Purple Streak.  I totally forgot I was supposed to update today, so here goes....

1. Last drink: Water (Last night when I had dinner)
2. Last phone call: Mr. Shoes (LOL! I sooo did not mean to bring his name into this post).
3. Last text message: Twitter (seriously, I need to disable the mobile alerts. Oh, who am I kidding? I love them. The chiming of my phone makes me feel important)
4. Last song you listened to: African Queen by 2Face (can never get enough of it)
5. Last time you cried: Thursday, May 14th 2009. (Was watching 'Smallville;' Chloe lost her fiance. So not fair!)

SIX HAVE YOU EVER:
6. Dated someone twice: Tufia kwa! I'm usually regretting dating them once.
7. Been cheated on: Yeah. More than once too.  You see why I usually regret dating them? LOL
8. Kissed someone: Honey, but of course.
9. Lost someone special: Yes.  Still hurts
10. Been depressed: Clinically? Nope.
11. Been drunk and threw up: Never been drunk.

LIST FOUR FAVORITE COLOURS:
12. Blue
13. Black
14. Green
15. Yellow

HAVE YOU:
16. Made new friends: Of course. I'm not an island
17. Fallen out of love: Hehehehe. The better question should be,"Have you ever truly fallen in love?" 
18. Laughed until you cried: Happens all the time
19. Met someone who changed you: Oh, yeah.
20. Found out who your true friends were: Yes!!  How did you know? 
21. Found out someone was talking about you: Yea, but people will always talk.  Who cares?
22. Kissed anyone on your friend's list: My friends never have someone I wanna kiss
23. How many people on your friends list do you know in real life: On Facebook? LOL. Too few.  Don't ask.
25. Do you have any pets: No. Had a fish, but Uju prayed for it to die.  And it did. 
26. Do you want to change your name: Right now? No.  Why would I wanna do that?  After marriage? Sure.
27. What did you do for your last birthday: Funmi took me out for ice cream and a movie.
28. What time did you wake up today: Bout 10 AM 
29. What were you doing at midnight last night: Sleeping, I think.
30. Name something you CANNOT wait for: August... and those miracles from God.
31. Last time you saw your father: Too long
32. What is one thing you wish you could change about your life: This lil situation
33. What are you listening to right now: Mr. Shoes, tooting his own horns.
34. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yeah.  He has a fraternal twin, Mike.
35. What's getting on your nerves right now?: Google
36. Most visited webpage: Gmail, facebook, my blog, twitter, the site for my upcoming radio show
37. What's your name?: Vera AKA Verachi AKA Oluwavera
38. Nicknames: Verastic
39. Relationship Status: Unavailble
40. Zodiac Sign: Capricorn
41. Male or female or transgendered: Trans gini?? One order of female with a cup of fanta orange & two cubes of ice.
42. Primary School: Alama Private School, Jos
43. Middle School: St. Louis College, Jos
44. High school: St. Louis College, Jos
45. Hair color: Black
46. Long/medium/short: Medium
47. Height: 5' 5"
48. Do you have a crush on someone: This one don pass crush oo
49: What do you like about yourself: My "niceness" LOL
50. Piercings: Ears only.  Nipples later.  Calm down; I'm just kidding
51. Tattoos: None. I hear they hurt.
52. Righty or Lefty: Righty... controlled by the left brain.

FIRSTS: 
53. First Surgery: Never had one
54. First Piercing: Still my ears
55. First Best Friend: Abimbola (in Elementary school.  Then she went away to Queens College & grew breasts.  She betrayed me; she didn't wait for me!)
56. First Sport you Joined: Marching band.  Does that count?
57. First Pet: Cece, our late dog
58. First Vacation: The fact that I don't remember is really, really sad.
59. First Concert: Can it really be possible?  Have I really never attended a concert? Oh, boy! 
60. First Crush: Stanley in elementary school.  

RIGHT NOW:
61. Eating: Nothing
62. Drinking: Nothing either
63. Already missing: You just want me to say his name again, and I won't :-)
64. I'm about to: Publish this post and watch a Naija movie (Life is Wicked.)
65. Listening to: You asked me this question before (#33), but I'm not listening to him anymore. Not listening to anything at all.
66. Thinking about: The month of March... and what happened in the far away land of ehm...
67. Waiting for: God.

YOUR FUTURE:
68. Want kids: Yes, ke!  My kids will make up a football team
69. Want to get married: Are you seriously asking me that?  I already have my asoebi colors picked out.
70. Careers in mind: Writing, broadcasting, and who knows... maybe acting... if I don't suck @ it.

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX?
71. Lips or eyes: Lips, I guess
72. Hugs or kisses: You can't make me pick one.  They're both very vital.
73. Shorter or taller: I've done shorter.  So, Taller, please.
74. Older or Younger: Older (than me, that is... not older than Nnamdi Azikiwe)
75. Romantic or spontaneous: I have both
76. Nice stomach or nice arms: Indifferent
77. Sensitive or loud: I've also done loud.  Gimme Sensitive.
78. Hook-up or relationship: What rubbish hookup???
79. Trouble maker or hesitant: That's like comparing apples to oranges.  But who in their right mind would want a trouble maker?  

HAVE YOU EVER: 
81. Drank hard liquor: Had a bone krusher once; don't know if that counts as hard liquor
82. Lost glasses/contacts: Nope.
83. Kissed on 1st date: No
84: Broken someone's heart: I don't know for sure.  
85. Had your own heart broken: Yeap
86. Been arrested: No.
87. Turned someone down: For what exactly?
88. Cried when someone died: Ehen now! 
89. Liked a friend that is of the same sex: Ehn?? Biko, that is a taboo in my village

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:
90. Yourself: Sometimes …most times, I do
91. Miracles: Of course.
92. Love at first sight: Nope.  Like @ first sight, maybe
93. Heaven: Yes. Is there any other way?
94. Santa Claus: I used to, but he has refused to deliver my Range Rover!!
95. Kissing on the first date: Believe in it ke?  What is my own? Unless my lips are going to be involved, I couldn't care less.
96. Angels:  They do exist.

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY:
97. Is there one person you want to be with right now?: Oh, boy, yes! How did you know?
98. Had more than one boyfriend/girlfriend at one time?: More than one ke?  I'm usually tryna get rid of the one I have sef and you're talking about having two.  Now, that would be depressing.
99. Wish you could change things in your past?: Yes.
100. Are you posting this as 100 Truths?: Yes, now.  Isn't that what you want???

P.S. I'm working on starting an online radio show.  I've finally figured out a name I think I like.  Now, I just have to figure out a time to do it.  Hope you'll tune in & listen and/or talk.  Yeah, you can call in.  Will give you more details later.

At Age 27?????????????????????

I read something the other day. Apparently a woman's fertility begins to significantly decline at age 27. 27?!?!?!?!?!?! As if it isn't bad enough that we are born with all the eggs we will ever, ever have in our lives (not to mention that we lose half of those eggs at birth)?? Now, I have to go and find out that our fertility potential begins to significantly decline at age 27. **insert very, very, VERY angry face**

I am yet to get over my anger of not getting married at age 22. Ah, that was my plan when I was about 12 or 13 in Naija. I was sure that by the age of 22, I would be married. Of course, by the time I was 22, marriage was the last thing on my mind for several reasons:

1. I was 22. I still had my life ahead of me biko.

2. I was still in school = broke

3. There was no man worth marrying in my life.

4. I knew nothing about marriage. In retrospect, I thought I did. I thought I was mature enough then, but I have learnt so much between then and now. Of course, I realize I will learn even more once I do become married.

5. Did I mention there was NO MAN as in NO MAN worth marrying in my life?

So anyway, now that I think of it, I guess I'm not so mad that I didn't get married at age 22. If I had gotten married, I mighta turned out to be an immature, unsupportive wife - no kidding - and not to mention, a liability and a burden to my husband. Tufia kwa. That is not my portion in Jesus' name. Whatever the case might be, I am mad that at age 27, there is a significant decline in a woman's fertility. But no stress. I've got it alllllllllll figured out.

Where is that shoe owner? We have to make babies!

For The Mommies In My Life

For my grandma ... 

... she gave birth to my precious, yellow mommy.  And her sarcasm remains unbeatable  

For my mommy ...

... she never tires of bending backwards for me.

For my favorite aunty ...

... what can I say?  She remains my favorite.

For Busola ...

... still can't believe you're a mommy.  Hurry up & get knocked up again.

For Aunt O ... 

... never seen a mother so hyper.

For Aunt C ...

... my favorite [more like only] Camerounian aunt.  Funny lady.

For Aunt N ...

... may God see you thru a safe pregnancy & delivery for baby #3

For Funmie's mom, Busola's mom, & Uju's mom ...

... thanks for having such beauriful daughters to be my friends.

For the blogger mommies especially Temmy Tayo, Solomon Sydelle, & FluffyCuteThing ... and most especially ... Neffie - our newest blogger mommy!

... keep giving us blogger babies

Last, but certainly not least...

For the Mrs. ... 

... thank you for giving birth to such an awesome son whose shoes are too big to be filled.

For every other mommy out there ...

Happy Mommy's Day.

These Shoes Fit...

... And that is all I'm willing to say about it - for now.

Well, except a few casts & credits

Date Pictures were taken: March 5th 2009

Location: Classified above top secret

Owner of feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of legs attached to feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of pants clothing legs attached to feet in the shoes: Vera Ezimora

Owner of shoes comforting feet belonging to legs clothed in pants owned by Vera Ezimora: Hehehehehehehehehehehehe. I laugh in Nnewi South.

Bookish

Farafina is having a book tour (in Naija).  **sigh** I'd give almost anything to be there.  I'd give even more to be one of the authors.  **double sigh**

Faith Without Action Is Dead...

...That is what James 2:17 says: "In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead."

This must be the reason why that Nigerian woman I met at the store bought a pair of shoes she did not need and wrote out a check of hundred dollars.  But of course, she prayed while writing the check: "Oh, God, I don't even have money in my account.  This check will not bounce in Jesus' name.  I cover my account with the blood of Jesus."

Sometimes, I think I have faith, but when I meet people like this woman, I conclude that their faith must be on some kind of steroids.  Standing next to them, my faith is but a mustard seed (maybe smaller) while theirs is a watermelon fruit.  Either that or my Naija folks have just taken that verse in the bible to a whole new level.  Yeap.  They've definitely taken it to a whole new level.  It's only a typical Nigerian that will buy a pair unneeded shoes, write a check from a fallow account, pray against the unavoidable result, and then even plead the blood of Jesus on top of it.  Only a Nigerian.

But I have had my moments of having faith in God (and I continue to have faith in Him).  I woke up this morning thinking about all the times He has been there at the nick of time.  I remember when I applied to a four year college that was an hour away from me - even though I did not have a car, and therefore had no means of getting there.  Mom thought I was crazy.  But I just figured God would do it - like He always does.  That year, school started in January as usual.  By His grace, I bought the car on the 26th of December.

There isn't anytime that I think God is unable to do it for me.  Sometimes, I just find myself wondering if He will.  Why should He?  I am but a sinner.  Everyday, I sin.  Everyday, I beg for forgiveness.  And everyday, I go back and sin again.  I wouldn't do it if I were Him.  I wouldn't hear my prayers if I were Him.  But I am not Him.  I should learn that.  Sometimes, I try to tell Him the best way to perform my miracle for me.  How can I, a mere mortal sinner tell God how to do His job?  Where was I when He was creating the entire world?  Where was I when He was creating me?  I did not tell Him how to make me, and look how I turned: a fine babe - if I do say so myself :-)

So here is to God... I'm looking forward to more miracles.  Awe-inspiring miracles.  Unfathomable miracles.  Breath-taking miracles.  Unbelieveable miracles.  Never before seen or heard miracles.  Divine miracles.  Huge miracles, the kind that will perplex me and leave me at a loss for words.  The type of miracles that will have me scratching my scalp and rumpling my forehead.  The kind of miracle that will have my jaw sitting in the palm of my hand, my mind thinking, 'this can't be real.'  You know what I mean, God.  This is a toast post to that order.  Amen.  And so shall it be.

The Little Old Man

A little old, Black man came to clean the windows today.  He did a wonderful job.  The windows are now sparkling clean.  Any moment now, a bird might flight right into one of them - or at least, that is how it usually happens on TV.... like the Windex commercial.  But then again, with my recent clumsiness, I might be the one to walk right into it.

The little old man talked me to oblivion.  I only heard about 15% of what he was saying.  50% of the time, I was not listening at all, and 35% of the time, I just couldn't make out what he was saying.  It might have something to do with him missing about half of his teeth.  It also didn't help that most of his speech was in Ebonics.  Even when I was not giving him eye contact - something that should have told him I was neither listening nor interested - he still went on talking.  I think he just needed someone to talk to.  I know he said something about his brother who was in jail for 35 years before being released.  I might be wrong, but I think he said his brother killed someone.  Like I said, I might be wrong.  Understanding the little old man was kinda hard.  I also know he said something about him having been in an accident.  And something about six thousand dollars.  I know for a fact that the little, old man told me he was worth half a million.  When I didn't respond or react, he went on to add, "That's five hundred thousand dollars."  Oh, what I could do with five hundred thousand dollars right now! :-)

I barely responded to anything he said, but at a point, I was on the phone talking, so he must have detected my accent at that time.  After the little, old man was done cleaning, and finally ready to leave, he figured he'd ask me of my nationality - even though he was pretty sure he knew already.

Little Old Man: You from Jamaica, right?

Me: No.

Little Old Man: But you from Africa, right? (This implies that he, like so many other people, think Jamaica is in Africa.  Why?  Cause we're all Black?)

Me: Yes.

Little Old Man: So where you from in Africa?

Me: Nigeria.

Little Old Man: *Smiling a confident smile as someone who knew the exact location of Nigeria* Oh, I know Nigeria!  That in North Africa.    I come from the North too, but mines at North Carolina.  They ain't too far from one 'nother though.

Most times, I'm ready for the most outrageous comments/questions about Africa.  But on some days (like today), I am not quite prepared.  So I could have told the Little Old Man that North Carolina was nowhere close to Africa, but I was just too tired.  Besides, the opportunity cost of telling him was too high.  You see, he was already at the door, his hand on the door handle, ready to leave.  If I had told him that North America and Africa were not close, he would have taken his hand off the handle of the door, walked right back to me and begun another speech.  That was too high a price to pay.  I figured, "Well, he's an old man.  He's probably lived most of his life thinking this way.  Of what use is it to correct him now?"  

Yes, it was selfish of me.  But don't blame me; I'm not as selfless as those from North Carolina.  

It's Over

It's over between us.  Even though I have not officially broken up, I know it's over definitely over.  I might be wrong, but no1 ever goes into a relationship and hopes for it to end.  In my experience, the hope for it to end comes @ a later time - after the excitement and passion (which by the way are sometimes only a figment of one's imagination) has washed away and your eyes open up to the big mess you have put yourself in.  It is @ that time that one begins to wish for the end of the relationship.  It can also be referred to as the "Oh, Crap" moment. It appears that I have come to that moment and time.

After the agonizing, almost-self-mutilating, physical and emotional trauma I suffered from my previous relationship with my boy shorts, I swore to never, ever, ever be caught with an uncomfortable underwear.  I only started wearing boy shorts because of how pretty and colorful they were.  Talk about being shallow!  After I exited that relationship and successfully sought some counselling, I began to wear Hipsters.  They were my all and all, my soul mate in underwears: beautiful, colorful, and oh yes, comfortable.  Have I lost you?  Well, let me clarify: Yes, I am talking about my underwears.

The hipster underwear really hasn't done anything to me.  It has been nice to me.  Maybe that's the problem.  It has been too nice.  I now realize that the hipster was the rebound underwear, an underwear that I fell hard for just because I was in pain and needed someone something to comfort my pain.  So that is the story of how my butt cheeks fell into the warming comfort and embrace of the hipster.

Now that I'm feeling better (and totally over the hurt, pain, and suffering I experienced from the boy shorts), my eyes have opened, and I realize that the hipsters are just not sexy enough!  They're not even all that colorful.  Alright, I lie.  They're colorful enough.  But in terms of sexiness, on a scale of one to ten, the hipsters have 2.  See, that just isn't enough.  These hipsters don't make me feel sexy.  They don't make me feel all girly inside.  They don't compel me to dance in front of my mirror with a can of hair spray as my microphone while I gleefully, confidently belch out the song, "And I am telling you... I'm not going/ You're the best man I've ever known/ There's no way I can ever go/ No, no, there's no way/ No, no, no, no way/ I'm living without you/ I'm not living without you/ I don't wanna be free/ I'm staying... I'm staying/ And you, and you.../ You're gonna love me/ You're gonna love me....."  Well, you get the idea.  No need to type out the entire lyrics.  

Seriously, the hipsters don't make me want to sing this song.  Sure, I don't have the voice for the song, but that is sooooo not the point.  Instead, the hipsters make me wanna sing, "When a woman's fed up/ It ain't nothing you can do about it/ It's like running out of love/ And then it's too late to talk about it..."  So you see, it's obvious I need new underwears.  The question is which ones???  No, I will not wear thongs/g-strings/t-strings or whatever goes between my butt cheeks as my regular, everyday underwear.  The fact of the matter is that I am pretty content with the natural slice that God has put between my butt cheeks, so I do not intend to make the slice bigger by putting a string in it everyday.  Come on, people.  Think of something.

Z 

.... In case you're interested, my love affair with the hispters started here.