IT STARTED WITH EYE-BAGS AND ENDED IN WAR

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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?

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P.S. This is coming about 11hours late. sorry!!!

Cheers.

Zibah!

No Farting

 

No Farting

Human food sometimes causes very queer reactions in my system. Presently, I have been suffering from severe spates of flatulence/fart (over here, they call it ‘mess’…heavy nasal emphasis on the /s/ sound). I do believe this ignoble disorder was brought on by my consumption of the Yoruba delicacy Ewa-agonyin and dodo (beans and plantain with palm-oil sauce). I believe I even ordered for extra large helpings of kpomo (hide of animal) and Udeme (big stout) to wash it down. I ordered for kpomo thinking it was barbecue bits and udeme assuming it was champagne but instead was served a rubber-like meaty thingy that gave my jaw a workout; its taste wasn’t so bad though. I have no complaint against the udeme, I actually consumed 3 bottles. By the way, the Yorubas occupy South West of Nigeria, a country in West Africa where I’m presently holed up in

A very distraught Zibah had to research for a human solution to my erm…situation. I was able to discover this about fart;

  • Fart is gas from the intestine that comes from several sources: air swallowed, gas seeping into the intestine from one’s blood, gas produced by chemical reactions in the gut. The gas(es) in fart may be Nitrogen, hydrogen, methane (isn’t that the gas some third world countries use to generate energy. Note to self-If this continues, contact their Government and offer a lease of my humble self at a very affordable price)
  • The methane in the fart comes from bacterial action and not from my cells.
  • The odour of the fart is as a result of varying amount of Hydrogen sulphide, skatole, indole (Nitrogen rich compounds) contained in my diet
  • Food such as eggs, cauliflower and meat are notorious for producing smelly farts while beans produce large amounts of not particularly stinky farts
  • The sound of my fart is produced by the vibrations of my anal opening (oh my), depending on the force of expulsion of the gas and the tightness of the sphincter muscle of my anus.
  • Fart comes out from my butt instead of my mouth due to peristalsis that forces contents in my intestine to a region of lower pressure which happens to be my anus
  • Everyone farts; Queen Elizabeth, Obama, Beyonce, Nadia Buhari, Obasanjo, Zibah (duh! I’m the one complaining aren’t I?) etc
  • People earn a living through the prevention of farts (huh?)
  • Dogs and Cat’s fart smell really bad (hence, the human joke of blaming Bingo *Bingo is a very common pet name for dogs* when something goes really wrong)
  • Dogs like the smell of human fart and would often walk towards the farter to inhale as much fart as possible  (So when next you blame Bingo, don’t be surprised if he comes over to inspect)
  • Termites have the world’s highest output of fart considerably contributing to global warming
  • The best position for coaxing fart out when having difficulty is to get on all four with your butt in the air while pressing your thighs against your belly
  • Chicks usually deny that they fart

At this point, can I say the Internet can be quite useless? After hours of poring through data, not one solution on how to plug my leaking asshole was found. Anyway, if you are suffering like I am or need more information on farting,  assume the fart position and click here, you may find something useful. As for me, I’m going over to a corner (with adequate ventilation mind you) to shut down and fart away.

P.S. If you don’t see a new post after this, know that Zibah asphyxiated from obnoxious gas inhalation while in a sleeping state.

Zibah!