THE PERFECT VALENTINE

For those just joining us, this is 01.1fm Nigeria, we are talking about the ideal valentine, what would your ideal valentine be people? What are your dreams for the love holiday. We would appreciate your opinion you can contribute to the discussion by calling us on…”

SEE ME, SEE VIRTUE: A WOMAN'S APPEAL

   In recent times, the male world has evolved to seeing our women as nothing but items of sexual gratification. This has gone beyond requesting the services of commercial sex workers popularly called 'Olosho', to chasing anything in skirt, trousers and wrappers; either engaged to be married, happily married, divorced, separated, widowed , single, or in a serious relationship. There is almost nowhere in the economic sector where a woman does not face sexual advances, assault in some cases.

HOW I INADVERTENTLY KILLED MY WIFE

     Last week, I went to interview a preacher. He came three hours late to his church venue of our meeting and I was a bit angry, but when he explained what kept him, not only did I forgive him quickly and learnt some lessons, I also decided to share thiis with anyone itching to do the same too.

     Its pertinent for husbands and wives to imbibe the art of settling quarrels without delay.

AGONY OF A FAITHFUL WIFE

  Grrriiiiiiiiiiiiing! the nagging alarm clock blares, interrupting her long, meditative, shallow sleep. Thoughts ravaging her mind all day, have found their way into her dreams once again. It’s 4 a.m in the morning, the perfect time for her usual kitchen dash. Breakfast steams on the gas for you and the kids. Of course, the morning crow still finds you in bed, eyes closed, and mouth open; drowning the pillow in methanol-filled drools. The bedside stool testifies of last night's groove, around it lay fallen bottles running over with booze.

FIRE THAT SECRETARY !!!

   Dear wife, na you I won follow relate today. Whether that miniskirt-wearing, mosquito-looking legs go siddon for office dey continue dey scatter your husband brain, na your hand e kuku dey. Whether your husband go continue dey tey for office, dey trowey lie give you every time say na one missing file him and security man dey find since, na your hand e still dey. Me I know say one of the things wey dey cause katakata na something wey I won mention for front.

OSAMA BIN DADDY

He sees that lady, that woman who drives him crazy
Love drunk and scared with sweat dripping down his pants
How do I approach a drop-dead-gorgeous damsel this fine?
Walks up to her, chest puffed out, beards trimmed and acting all friendly
Your face looks familiar is the common pick up line
"Excuse me please"...Cinderella replies
He won't bulge though stammering for words
She comes to his aid and decide to help him out
Dinner's great and he isn't that bad
Two birds just got signed into the love industry

NEW TRACKS BY THE PREACHER-RAPPER

CLICK FOR FAST DOWNLOAD

THE REPLACEMENT KILLER

   So I was in this cab on my way home from the day's hustle late this evening. The atmosphere was quiet and calm. The tired faces seated in the vehicle I'm sure dreamt of nothing but shower, dinner and bed. Few minutes later, the bored driver punched on the power button of his stereo to probably find some good tunes to chill on, but reverse was the case. I doubted my ears' receptivity when I heard the shepherd of a supposed fold, dish out this as a prayer point.

POLY-GAMING

   A popular afro-musician was interviewed some days back, asked how many children he has fathered, his reply; I don't know. He did manage to remember that he is legally married to seven women whom he parades, like a butcher parades fresh meat. Its really none of my business how many children a pop artiste decides to father. What makes me so mad is the idea that these women all step out to be photographed like some cute antique, bought and showcased in a museum. Only this was not a museum show, it was a one man's house show.

DEAR MAMA

Dear mama,
                  I write this in tears of pain from the encaged walls of my premature grave. How quickly you seem to forget that black day you sneaked out of the safe hands of morality, dashed for the club, dressed in a bum-hugging crazy-tight mini-skirt looking for some love, dancing wild to the energetic rock & roll escaping from the speakers of the boom boxes. Inspiration sprung from the shots emptied down your throat, venom caged in enchanting glasses served from over the bar. High on rum and low on your senses, mama, you danced away sanity and flushed modesty down the drain.