Hello, Zibah here. Yep, I’m alive and thankfully my anus is sufficiently civil today after the epic flatus experience of yesterday. Woke up with gawd awful eye-bags today (I look like Amy Winehouse on her very worst hangover day-her soul rest in peace). The awfulness was classic. I staggered drunkenly to the toilet as that is where I faithfully start my day (no, I did not have a wild night yesterday). I do have a day job so to speak (I’m my boss at the moment). Anyway, after staring daggers at the deceitful mirror and convincing myself that something was horribly wrong with it (c’mon, I am not that ugly), next stop: bathroom then suddenly, ouch! I just stubbed my toe against a stool which I swear wasn’t there a couple of seconds ago. Cursing angrily I made my way to the bathroom keeping an eye out for the next stool that would feel like strolling lazily across my path. In the bathroom, my bathing soap somehow manages to leap from my fingers, do a perfect flip in the air and descend into the warm embrace of my toilet. I sigh because I can feel it’s going to be a long day.
Breakfast? Toast bread and cereals. A few minutes after inserting several slices into the device (it’s called a toaster) the power supply goes out. Seriously, what is wrong with this country? As if my day isn’t bad enough, I have to consume badly made toast.
I plopped down on my sofa after breakfast, retrieve my laptop which serves various purposes; as a game console (have over 30HD awesome games), DVD player (for box office hits and the occasional porn videos humans’ make. Hey, I’m strangely curious; humans are quite dexterous while copulating). At the moment, my laptop serves as my office. I’m involved in online marketing.
Before the day was officially over, I decided to take a trip to Ozone Cinemas located at Yaba. Well, I was mostly interested in grabbing cake and chocolate from one of the stores. A quick glance at the movie schedule and I decided that watching a movie wasn’t worth it. I boarded a bus home-bound, on getting to Oyingbo (I still can’t pronounce Oyingbo properly); I was greeted with a sea of people waiting for any available commercial bus. In the crowd were several fat women (Gee! My personal favourite. I have learnt from past experience to never sit near one in a bus. The last time that happened, I ended up carrying some of the overlapping fatty tissues on her laps till I alighted at my stop). Suffice to say, I was sufficiently intimidated by the crowd. After the first three buses filled up while still in motion (My gawd! some of the fat ladies were more agile than Chun Li when it came to chasing molue– lorry kind of mass transit) well if they can do it, so can I. I spotted another empty bus heading our way and started inching closer; warming up in case I was going to be involved in hot pursuit. As the ‘unfortunate’ bus approaches, my vision goes red, my energy was zeroed in on the oncoming shabby yellow metal box. Next thing, I’m airborne smiling victoriously, I’m inside yippee. Ah-ahn, *pauses* I’m immobile. Yep, I’m stuck at the mouth of the bus with like 10 equally agile struggling bodies. I can feel cool breeze on my arse. Hmm! someone conveniently gripped my trousers expecting me to fight my way in for both of us and thus, exposed me booties. Oh well! I viciously flipped my left leg backward and the hand(s) loosened. Note, I may have hit the wrong victim but I was past caring. This was war and I’m a Spartan (awooooh!). A rumpled Zibah is eventually extracted from the mass of trapped flesh at the door and I settle into a battered seat with exposed springs poking my already sore rear while someone still stuck at the door is still shouting ‘my braids, yeee! Who is holding my hair’? I laughed. It’s just another typical day in Lagos isn’t it?
P.S. This is coming about 11hours late. sorry!!!