Hey people. So the time has finally come. Time to answer the question that has been raging in our minds for the past week: Who did it?
Before I go on, let me state clearly that I did not write this story and even though I got the writer to write a different ending for it, I’m sure my over-processing mind would have probably come up with something else. (Yes, I would have probably solved it differently). Anyway, here we go:
1. Lola was clear minded but was failing physically
2. She always made it a point to make certain her guests were seated before joining them from the kitchen
3. Naomi, 80 years old and almost deaf, was the most obnoxious person in the group, the member of their unofficial club Lola had the least patience with.
4. Lola, very much a person of old school social graces, was ashamed and embarrassed that she was so weak in her hands that she could not pour the tea in the dining room from a pitcher
5. There was a pool of pungent liquid on the kitchen counter
NOTE: Who did it does not necessarily = who Lola Shonibare pointed at.
Jumoke Afolabi: The dead one
Well, obviously not her because she’s DEAD.
Amina Ibrahim: The sweet one
In a shaky voice, she said, “I didn’t have tea last week. I never entered the kitchen.” Amina was on the verge of tears. Lola merely nodded her head as she remembered that this was so. She hated it that the quiet, soft-spoken Amina had to endure this.
Amina was the only person who didn’t go into the kitchen and as a result had no contact whatsoever with tea. This exonerates her.
Ekaete Effiong: The thoughtful one
For all of them liked Ekaete for her kindness and thoughtfulness.
Ekaete is 69. The only person younger than her is Ngozi who is 68. For her age, Ekaete is trim and svelte. This could justify her love for tight-fitting clothes. The story states that she drove her car to Lola’s house therefore leaving her purse in it could be she does from time to time. And the fact that she was the first to ask how Lola knew Jumoke was murdered can be as result of her “thoughtfulness” nature.
Naomi Mark: The loud one
Her loose clothes, over sized handbag and sun hat made her look like a down and out bag lady. She was not a well-coordinated person and advanced age had not helped this. She always seemed on the verge of stumbling and her jerky movements only accentuated her slovenly demeanour.
Naomi’s loose clothes coupled with her jerky movements give her away too easily as the culprit.
ANSWER 1: Lola pointed at Naomi.
WHO REALLY REALLY DID IT?
Ngozi Ikechukwu: The talkative one
Ngozi was another person in the group that was hard to like, for she was brassy and too gossipy even for the standards of the Ladies at Table.
Lola Shonibare: The gruff one
Read through the clues and it’s very obvious that there’s no way the poisoning could have been done without Lola knowing about it because she was always the last to leave the kitchen. However, the clues also tell us Lola is failing physically and cannot pour tea from a pitcher. This doesn’t mean she can’t manipulate a tiny container of arsenic.
It’s very important to note that the killer could not have poured the poison directly into Jumoke’s cup. Only way she could have been poisoned is if the entire pitcher was poisoned. If this was the case and yet only Jumoke died, it simply means the content of the pitcher was changed after Jumoke poured her tea. Knowing Lola cannot pour from a pitcher, it was definitely done by someone else.
Whoelse could this have been? Ngozi. Ngozi poured Lola’s tea. The story tells us Ngozi is “brassy and too gossipy”. It wouldn’t have been too hard for Lola to get Ngozi to brew another pitcher of tea while engaging her in gossip. Better still, it would have been easier to let Ngozi in on the entire plot. Motive could have been arranged. Ngozi was much younger. Lola could have manipulated her. There’s a strong possibility that Naomi did spill some of her tea while she poured it as her result of her jerky movements but if the pitcher was poisoned then, not only would she have died, she would have perceived the pungent smell.
The question is, was Jumoke just an unfortunate accessory used to get to Naomi? Clue 3 gives some sort of motive here but we’ll never really know.
So, there you have it. Like I said, no one got the exact answer but I’ve got to give this ticket away. So, looking through the comments, the author of the story had to go with:
Congratulations. I’ll be emailing you shortly with details on how you’ll get your ticket. S/O to everyone who tried and watch out for more mysteries and giveaways here.
PS: I have one more surprise for you guys this week. 🙂
I visited my girlfriend the other day – actually, my soon-to-be fiance (shhhh). It was a lonely Saturday afternoon and after we chatted a bit, that usual one thing led to the usual other thing, and as we began an intense make-out session. Moments after, her blackberry began buzzing – gaddem thing. She usually wouldn’t, but she timed out of my hold and after she checked it, she smiled at me in that “you know it’s going to be good so better wait” way. Sheeeesh.
The interruption came from her friend who was at the door. She had called earlier and said she could be in the neighbourhood and would probably stop by. My girlfriend’s place is pretty choked up so her friend(s), yes, they turned out to be two, made their way into her small room to join us. One I had met before, the other, I’d only heard of. They both pulled up chairs and sat opposite the couch I and my girlfriend sat on with a little coffee table in-between us.
We all got talking and as the conversation went on, I kept noticing the friend I had just met stealing glances at me. Yeah she was good looking all right. Average T and F but A, very on point (TF(or)A Post) all in all, definitely nowhere near my gurl. To cut things short, as the conversation went on, I felt toes tapping on mine beneath the coffee table. I didn’t need to confirm whose they were. It was play time and I was invited. It was amazing how we both managed to carry on two different conversations unnoticed even as we kept talking with our toes
The visitors soon left leaving me and my gurl to continue where we had left off. A few days later after sourcing help from a few social networking sites, I walked into a hotel room to meet the friend I met over the weekend completely naked lying on a bed. We handled our business and as I walked back to my car, my phone rang. It was that special ringtone. I picked up and responded to her beautiful voice: “Hey babe, I’m on my way, my boss just kept me back a bit longer than I expected”.
This is what I call the concept of FREE. Very few men will turn down a freebie
well, except me, or Owen Wilson from the movie Hall Pass especially when they are not legally bound. For the guys reading this, maybe you can further explain this concept especially if you’re the type who’ll say no (*cough). As for the ladies, what are your thoughts on the gurlfriends’ friend? Raging hoemometer or just a one time thing? Use the comment box, speak your mind and if you like what you’ve read, please subscribe. Cheers.
She’s funny – has a wonderful sense of humour. She’s intelligent – she always seems to know something about everything. She’s attractive – you know, in that, wifey-ish kinda way. You’ve been friends with her longer than you can remember. She’s seen them all come and go – tall, short, dark skinned, light. She laughed at you when you had the thing for skinny models, she helped pick out several birthday gifts, valentines day gifts and even ‘I’m sorry’ cards. Heck, she’s even raised you money severally when things were “tight”. Yes. She knows you almost as well as your mother – if not more. She’s not your sister (even though you call her that sometimes), she’s not your girlfriend, she’s not your best friend, she’s your “homegurl”.
Here’s the part you don’t tell her – she’s probably dark skinned, on the ermm… “chubby” side – ok, ok, she’s fat? She wears little or no makeup, hardly ever wears a dress (except that one time you dragged her to that dinner as your date); she knows as much as you, or probably more than you when it comes to the Premier League and sports generally; she has no problem belching or farting around you; discussing her menstrual cycle isn’t a taboo; and sex? You can’t remember the last time she brought up the topic but you always seem to discuss it with her cause well, she just gets you like that.
Most guys have at some point had or currently have the person described above. No matter how much we deny it, we all have that one (or more) go-to-gurl who always has our back. For some, it might be their moms, others, sisters and in some cases, they might not even be as described above. I know some friends with “homegurls” hotter than their girlfriends/wives. A lot of people say the best kinds of marriages happen when a guy marries his best friend. Probably so. But except I’ve been rolling in the wrong packs, finding a woman with all I described in the first paragraph combined with the opposite of all I described in the second, is very very rare these days.
Solution? Find the opposite of paragraph two, hook up with her and keep your “homegurl” on the side/close by? Did I hear you say trouble? Well, I don’t know about you but most times I hear girls in relationships feel threatened by their man’s “homegurl” is when she’s serious competition. And by that, I mean paragraph 1+ opposite of 2 + possibly more.
Where am I going with this? Well, I saw the movie, Just Wright yesterday and seeing Common and Queen Latifah’s characters hook up at the end made me wonder just how often that happens in life. Can the reason behind this be my theory on paragraph 1 & 2 or is there some other reason. Maybe we should even start from “homegurls” and why we men seem to need them. Let’s hear from the guys today and if you’re a gurl, perhaps a homegurl, please use the comment box and speak your mind. Cheers.
PS: I know I’m supposed to pick the ticket winner for the Fela in Lagos show today but instead of picking the closest answer, I’ve decided to let it run for a couple more days. You have till midnight Wednesday, Nigerian time to put up your answer and I’ll announce the winner on Thursday. Good luck.
As the elevator doors closed shut I knew it was going to be a loooong ride to the ground floor from the 25th. As if reading my mind, I caught his eyes looking at me.. bouncing inquisitively from my face down my body and back to…. “hello cleavage” I could hear him thinking… That instant response/reaction that would come off as me saying the word “Jerk” didn’t follow… why? Cause I was doing the exact same thing he was doing.
We had just gone past the 20th floor and no one had stopped the elevator.. Oh, I forgot, it was almost 9 pm.. finding anyone heading down around this time is always rare. At that moment he cleared his throat as if to bring my thoughts back to giving him attention. Little did he know what I was thinking… “Please don’t say anything… please don’t ruin this”…
He heard my thoughts. He obeyed, he simply looked at me. Gave a brief smile revealing a set of pearly white teeth like none I’d seen recently. They parted and then revealed his oh so long tongue. He licked his lips – gently and as if leading an oral choreography, my tongue followed – I shook my head mentally at my silliness. Little did I know it was only the beginning.
Brotherman must have been at least 6 feet 2 standing right beside me TDH and all; with things being pretty much hush hush in yoniville for the past few weeks it was easy for my mind to wonder… yes…I was merely wondering as I felt one of his strong firm hands pull me closer while the other stopped the elevator on the eleventh floor. The moment I felt his lips against mine I let go of my “wondering” self – completely! It wasn’t until I heard the elevator alarm going off moments later as I dangled mid-air barely holding on to a railing high up and muttering all sorts of curse words as brotherman continued to thrust deeper and deeper into me that I knew what was going on. Sighting the camera carefully tucked away in a corner couldn’t even get me to censor my words or were they moans.
The elevator doors opened and as if planned, brotherman (who impressively tidied us up) walked in the left direction, while I went right. I once read that a girls ultimate fantasy is having a *french fling. As I walked away I turned back to look at him once more … *sigh*… he could have been mine.
*French fling – having absolutely mind-blowing sex with a total stranger who you’ll never ever meet again.
You must have read somewhere about some kind of “ultimate fantasy” for guys and chics… use the comment box to share what you’ve heard, which you believe and which you’d rather have. Speak your mind. Cheers.
*Plays Christina’s what a girl wants..
Nah.. scratch that. Today we skip past the want, which I once spoke about here. Today, we focus on the NEEDS. Before we get to the part where you give your answer, I asked one of my very very open minded and opinionated female friends to comment on the topic. Her name is Deji (pen name) and here’s what she had to say:
What a girl reeeally needs?
1) The male bestie – she’s not sleeping with him but he has her best interests at heart and would advice her from a guys perspective.
2) The lover (said with French accent) – this dude is strictly for sex. Call him. Book an appointment. Have sex…peace out….till next time.
3) The rich dude (maga) – this is the dude who doesn’t mind buying you stuff…raising u when you’re broke…etc (note that I said: dude is rich and doesn’t mind spending)
Before I could chip in a response, she continued and said: in reality:
Most girls have #1
Some have #2
Few have #1, 2 & 3
Very very few have all 3 dudes in 1
Now hold your horses; at this point I was also like O_o… thinking is this what it has really come to? But then I reminded myself of the topic: what a girl NEEDS and I guess to some extent, I saw reason with what she said. However, this doesn’t change the fact that these needs were brought about by what our society/generation has become.
When I think about it, I believe quite a lot of girls can do without #2 for a long time (a lot; not all). Like Deji later admitted, “it doesn’t hurt to have a couple of #1’s and many #3’s especially :)” That’s just how women are wired I guess. As much as I want to, I will not go into why we’ve ended up at these three needs, instead, I’d like to focus on the many many questions we can answer by confirming Deji’s position but to do that we’ll have to certify it first.
So, I’ll throw it open to you guys.. share your opinions on what a girl NEEDS (not wants).. and yes, this discussion isn’t only open to the ladies we welcome all comments. Use the comment box and speak your mind and remember to click the subscribe button for post updates. Cheers.
Hey people, as promised, here’s my first giveaway here celebrating my first 50 posts. Below you’ll find a mystery written by a mentor of mine, which I’ve adapted for the blog. The rule is very simple:
Figure out “who did it” but in stating your answer in the comment box, you MUST go through all suspects stating why you didn’t pick them.
The Prize: A ticket to watch the Broadway success, Fela in Lagos.
Other Terms: The challenge is only open to participants who either reside in Lagos or will be in Lagos during the staging period. The ticket will go to the FIRST person who gets and states the answer correctly. Good luck.
Lola Shonibare: The gruff one
Ngozi Ikechukwu: The talkative one
Amina Ibrahim: The sweet one
Ekaete Effiong: The thoughtful one
Naomi Mark: The loud one
Jumoke Afolabi: The dead one.
Four elderly ladies sat at the dining room table in Lola Shonibare’s home. Lola was 90 years old but still lived alone with the assistance of her son who came over twice a week. Lola was clear minded but was failing physically. She could only move around slowly and with the aid of a cane. With difficulty, she joined the others. She always made it a point to make certain her guests were seated before joining them from the kitchen. Now there were five sitting around the old fashioned round cherry wood table. They sat in silence, all of them keenly aware that, at this time last week, there had been six of them. But, not now, for Jumoke Afolabi had died suddenly shortly after their last meeting. 75-year old Amina considered it a blessing that they had almost a week to recover from the shock.
But, not for long, for Lola had another shock for them. After settling in her chair, she looked straight at Naomi and said, bluntly. “One of us murdered Jumoke. I don’t appreciate that it was done in my home, right under our noses. One of us laced her tea with enough arsenic to drop a horse.”
It was no accident that she looked at Naomi as she said this, for Naomi, 80 years old and almost deaf, was the most obnoxious person in the group, the member of their unofficial club Lola had the least patience with.
The ladies sat in stunned silence. It was common practice upon arriving at Lola’s home to go to the kitchen and get your own tea. Lola, very much a person of old school social graces, was ashamed and embarrassed that she was so weak in her hands that she could not pour the tea in the dining room from a pitcher. Lola did not have to remind them of this as she observed the expressions on each of her friends’ faces.
Lola looked at Ekaete. She had distaste for how she dressed when visiting her home. Still trim and svelte at age 69, Ekaete always wore a tight fitting sweat suit, no different than the one she was wearing on this day. Lola thought her many years too old for this but said nothing, for all of them liked Ekaete for her kindness and thoughtfulness. Today, Ekaete had her purse with her, something she had left in her car last week.
Ekaete was the one that asked, “How do you know she was murdered? Has anyone spoken to the police?
Lola said, “There was a pool of pungent liquid on the kitchen counter. The killer must have been in a hurry and spilled it. It’s a good thing I suspected something and had it tested or I may be dead, too. As for the police, yes, they are waiting to arrest the murderer when our meeting is over.”
The high-strung Amina finally broke the silence. In a shaky voice, she said, “I didn’t have tea last week. I never entered the kitchen.” Amina was on the verge of tears. Lola merely nodded her head as she remembered that this was so. She hated it that the quiet, soft-spoken Amina had to endure this.
Lola thought briefly that she was surprised that Ngozi had so far said nothing. Normally she wouldn’t shut up. Before continuing that sour thought, Naomi said, shrilly as was her custom, “I don’t know why you looked at me like you did. I didn’t kill her!” Lola sat quietly for a long moment before answering. There wasn’t much about Naomi to like. Her loose clothes, over sized handbag and sun hat made her look like a down and out bag lady. She was not a well-coordinated person and advanced age had not helped this. She always seemed on the verge of stumbling and her jerky movements only accentuated her slovenly demeanour. Still, Lola and the others liked her in a condescending way. Lola said, “Nobody said you did, so just relax.
Facing Lola, Ngozi finally spoke up. “I poured your tea along with mine.” She added, wryly, “We’re both still alive.” Ngozi was 68 years old and very spry for her age. Lola considered that she observed all of Ngozi’s movements when in the kitchen with her last week. Indeed, watching others was something she was good at. It was her compensation for being old and mostly immobile. Ngozi was another person in the group that was hard to like, for she was brassy and too gossipy even for the standards of the Ladies at Table.
What the ladies did not know was that Lola’s nephew, Sergeant. Daniel Shonibare of the Area F Police Division, waited silently in her bedroom with a uniformed officer, listening carefully for signs of trouble and waiting to arrest the murderer when his Aunt Lola pointed her out. Shonibare knew that, although Aunt Lola’s body may be failing, there was nothing wrong with her keen mind. He knew this would be over in a few minutes.
As if on cue, Lola pointed a shaky finger at the murderer and said, loud as she could, “Come out, Daniel.”
Hey people, today I have an anonymous co-blogger. Let’s just call him “King”. Enjoy.
So I’m chilling, listening to my ipod, on shuffle, the music goes from Nickelback to Eminem, to Pink and then to this Nigerian song, which was put there by my girlfriend. I seldom listen to Nigerian songs (yeah yeah, whatever). Anyways the song is by Wizkid and it’s titled: Tease Me. I must say it isn’t really that bad even though it’s kinda pointless but, hey, I’m not here to review the song. As I listened, I got to the catch phrase “I know bad guys” and this got me thinking… hmmm.. isn’t it funny how almost every guy out there is now a “bad guy”? I mean, should we even still be allowed to use the term this way?
Nigerians naturally never want to come last at anything. We are born hustlers. In school, work, relationships and even in traffic, there’s a daily competition among several “bad guys” to determine who becomes the ultimate “baddest guy” (does this even make sense). Anyways, when it comes to relationships, the statement “good gurls like bad boys” seems to have been adopted by all gurls. When I’m among friends, taking down girls recklessly without looking back to bother about emotions seems to be the order of the day. However, it seems we are all quick to forget that there are other categories of guys out there and even Wizkid agrees with me when he sang: ‘I know “Other guys”.’
Who are these other guys you might ask. Well, if almost everyone claims to be a bad guy, guess they can only be “shy guys”. Some of y’all might remember Diana King singing:
But I don’t want somebody
Who’s loving everybody
I need a shy guy
He’s the kinda guy who’ll only be mine
Call me old (yes, that song was released 1994) but I remember when shy guys used to run things. For the benefit of the younger readers, I’ll just define what being a shy guy means or meant back then: You’re calm and calculated. You’re the perfect gentleman. Never brag about your escapades (Shy guys are coded bad guys).
There was a time when girls were always dying to catch these kinda guys. These guys were the “take home to mommy” guys; oh mommy would be so proud I got me a SHY GUY that was doing well. Nowadays, these guys don’t even have a chance with the ladies because the so called BAD GUYS are sniping everything and anything in sight. I could go on and give you reasons why I think this is so but I’d like the ladies to speak for themselves, what do y’all have against the shy guys and if you’re a shy guy out there, share your tales with us, let us know how you’ve been surviving. Use the comment box, speak your mind and if you enjoy the post, hit the subscribe button to get updates. Cheers.
PS: look out for a special post tomorrow on the giveaway I promised.
I looked down at my feet for a brief moment and I followed the stripped lines of my socks as I raised my head up.
And there I was again, staring at my own erect member as he nods slowly.. motioning me..pointing me to where my attention should be. I looked straight on and as she let out another soft whimper as I followed the soft, gentle stroking motion of her fingers as they traced the remarkable outlines of her southern lips. Each stroke coating each finger tip like biscuit sticks being dipped in honey syrup…
Wait. How did I get here? It all started with one statement:
“I can please you with both hands tied behind my back”.
There. That was my declaration a few days ago and I never imagined 3 days later I’d be sitting in the middle of my own room, naked with only my socks on.
But I should have known, Tara was a natural. A vixen if I do say so myself. But being the man that I am, I guess I still underestimated her. We had come back from work together. Long week and I was so looking forward to her spending the night. If only I knew she had other plans. We started making out and it wasn’t hard for her to get me seated with half of my clothes off but the way she tied me up with my own tie, that was impressive. Of course I could have stopped her, but after kicking it with Tara for over a month, I guess I had come to trust her a little.
As I watched her strut towards me, one long silky, well waxed leg ahead of the other, I pictured all the things I could do to her if she untied me. hmmm… that was it..
She came then and sat on my laps, sensually grinding again me. I closed my eyes and moved closer to her ears, the strong tingly smell of her perfume drawing me closer.. I gently kissed on her neck…
hmmm.. you like that don’t you..
By the time I’m done with you… you’ll be running low on juices….
I’ll go over every curve
Sucking as HARD as possible..
I felt a drop of her liquid goodness on my lap as she let out a soft moan..
It was working…
And then, I’m going to take you..
On the floor
And back on this chair..
At that moment I felt my tie drop to the floor – freedom – my turn.
Have you ever found yourself in a tied up situation with some one you’re intimate with? We’d like to hear from you. If you haven’t, is it a trust issue or you’re not just adventurous enough. Use the comment box, speak your mind. Cheers.
I’m still recovering from the outcome of my last post, so we’ll get to that later. On to today’s business. You’ve probably read the title and wondered, well, that’s pretty much straight forward so what’s he on about? True. There was just no creative way to craft what I was going to write about so I said it the way it is. Men lie, women lie – we all lie. That’s life.
Anyways, my objective here is to see if it’s possible to narrow down what men or women lie about most to just one statement. Yes, a phrase/sentence – perhaps. Not a “thing”. Why would I want to try this seemingly impossible task? Well, maybe its my calling (shoot me), but then again, I had a dream the other day about winning the Nobel peace prize (category withheld). For the purpose of this discourse, I’ve come up with two statements, one for each gender. Here goes:
Women fall in love with ideas.
Some of you might have heard this, in fact, I think it’s a fairly popular saying but have you really given it a thought. I’m talking to the women now cause if this statement is true, you might just find out why men lie about the things they do. Ask a lot, no, A LOT of girls what that guy they’ve been seeing for a few months or even their boyfriend really does and you’ll probably get an answer like: “oh, Tolu is a banker.” Dig deeper and ask what unit? what exactly does he do there? and you might just be looking for trouble. It’s even worse when he’s a, somewhat successful entrepreneur. You’ll probably get something like “Emeka runs his own outfit” Ok, what do they do in his “outfit” – blank.
Don’t get mad just yet, I’m trying to build a case here. I have a friend (some of y’all might know him) some of you have read about human chameleons, well, lets just say he’s one. In his four years in uni I watched as he changed his course (not officially) from medicine to law to engineering to … depending on the requirements he needed for the girl he was seeing at that time. You could work into his room and a stethoscope would be dangling from his bed or you’d see him with huge engineering textbooks e.t.c.
To say he was more than successful with getting the girls (he wanted) would be an understatement. Some months after he graduated and I went to his crib. He was still job hunting and lived in a flat with friends. On that day, he was expecting a girl and I was amazed as he went round all the rooms lending one electronic gadget or the other. I walked into his room later to see it transformed. He laid out about 6 remote controls on his bed and I noticed a loose cheque leaf sticking out of a book by his bed. The cheque leaf was his, written out to one of our other friends; 500k. I shook my head thinking surely, this wasn’t going to work right? He looked at me then and said, “all na idea“. Hours later, as the girl (who turned out to be a… erm… “socialite”) walked out of his room, I thought to myself…. ideas…hmmm…
Men fall in love with pictures.
Well, maybe the more appropriate word would have been paintings. Why? Because as much as you can manipulate a picture taken with a camera, there’s a limit to what you can do. But with a painting, the painter is in control. By painter, I mean women. The canvas? Their bodies. The paint colours, may range from simple makeup to body magic or 90210 (depending on how much of a painting you’re looking at creating). I guess I’ve spoken somewhat extensively about this topic here.
I’d just like to add a new angle. Men fall in love with pictures but they also sometimes paint these pictures themselves. Let me explain. When a guy gets serious with a girl, he wants to know everything and I mean EVERYTHING he can about her. Why? He’s painting that mental picture of you and him hanging out with his friends, his parents e.t.c. He’s imagining what his kids from you will look like, how intelligent they’ll be. Any girl who knows this can easily
lie manipulate her way into his heart. And I’ve seen it happen too. The only question is how far is she willing to go? Will you memorize the periodic table or
I think I’ll stop here. These are my statements. Can you come up with any or do you have examples/experiences that can help support mine, use the comment box, speak your mind. Cheers.
PS: This is my 50th post and I promised to celebrate this. I’m cooking up something, watch this space, better still, hit the subscribe button :).
Hey people, hope we all had a great weekend. I have a bit to go over this morning so let’s just dive into it. There seems to be an endless argument between guys and gurls about the pros and cons for embracing certain fashion/not-so-fashion related features and I just thought it’d be good to settle it once and for all. Here we go:
It’s no secret that the average man is a visual being. We love to look and we’ll look even more when we see something we love. Boobs. No man can deny them (yes, even the self confessed ass men). That being said, with unofficial stats claiming there are now 9 women to one man, this only means there’s a lot of cleavage out there. The only thing that will make yours any different from the next gurl is: packaging. As much as we love to see, even the most unimaginative men I know love a little tease. The rule here for me: Leave something for us to imagine. Wear the low neck tops showing just about enough to get us thinking but for most men, when the V’s become wide U’s, the needle on that meter begins to sway in the “lay” direction.
A couple of years back, this seemed to be the order of the day with our women. They blamed it on those low rise denims even though when I went deeper, I was told by some girls that as much as it started out unconsciously, they realized that it attracted some guys and hence they continued doing it. A good example occurred one day when I met up with a female friend at an eatery. As we waited for our order, a gurl walked in and sat right opposite us. The moment she sat down, she revealed a huge crack that ran all the way to the err.. vanishing point. It was a red flag, no one could miss it. And as my friend and I noticed it, she immediately made to get up to go and inform the gurl. The waiter brought our order just then and as I tried to stop my friend from getting up, the waiter chipped in telling her “Aunty, don’t disturb yourself, she knows what she’s doing, just leave her.”
My friend, being the “near-feminist” she is, ignored our warning and walked up to inform Miss Red flag. She returned moments later cursing and hating herself for not heeding our warning. Why? The gurl gave her the lecture of her life on minding her own business.
This is another part I’m really hoping you guys will help me out with. From the little research I’ve done with guys, the opinions are almost unanimous. Let me break it down using ear piercings:
1 piercing = good girl, well brought up, wifey.
2 piercings = adventurous, fashionable/exciting girl, possible wifey
3 piercings+ = (red flag), borderline promiscuous girl, overly independent, LAY
Nose, eye brows, navel, tongue, lip piercings usually range between category 2 and 3 depending on the guy in question. I can already hear a lot of the ladies yelling. This is why we are here. I didn’t come up with this categorization alone, they are strictly based on random surveys I took.
Somewhat similar to cleavage as far as I’m concerned. Maybe I’m too much of a fan of the tease but I think I’d be more excited if upon meeting a girl she told me she had a tattoo “somewhere” and discovering it would depend on how well things turned out between us. This as opposed to me noticing a huge cross on her upper arm upon our first encounter.
A little butterfly at the “small of her back”, sensual words tracing her collar bone, little hearts somewhere below the navel… these are just some examples but you get the point. Call me old or stuck in my ways but except you’re some kind of celebrity or public figure, I really don’t think a huge red rose on your upper arm adds any value or does it?
This list keeps growing longer as I write but I think I’ll stop here so I can get feedback from you guys. Then again, maybe I should just add one more set: Anklets/Waist beads/Toe rings. (I can already hear one of my friends laughing). I really will not mind coming back home to a mildly lit room, sensual candles burning, some background Arabian music playing with my gorgeous girlfriend/wife dressed as an Arabian princess with waist beads and even an anklet on (yes, we endorse role play here) gently laying on the bed. This would probably get me excited for days but that’s where it should stop.
When things like that get outside the bedroom, it just sends the wrongest signals ever. Have you ever listened to a convo between two guys checking out a girl with visible waist beads? I can bet you 9 out of 10 of such convos will probably throw up the word sex more than wifey or even girlfriend. Don’t even get me started on toe rings, I’ll leave that for you guys.
So there you go, time to speak your piece, for the ladies, let us have your views on why you’d go with any of the things on my list and for the guys, what’s your take on the subject, do you share some of my views or not? Cheers.