My Fat Friend’s Thoughts (IV) – Typical


And he’s not even joking:

If you didn’t know that niggas love big butts, you’re either not racist enough or too ignorant. All black men love extra-large booty. It’s a part of pop culture. And when I say a black man; I mean your father and mother are black and their parents were black and your grandparents were black as night. I’m saying your great grand parents couldn’t look a white man in the eye. Yeah, your nigga wasn’t diluted and you can’t even spell light-skin. And most, if not all black men love Nicki Minaj. If you ask a black guy to list five of the sexiest women in the world, he’ll mention Nicki Minaj, top three. The other day I asked one of my friends for his sexiest women list and he gave me Nicki Minaj. And I asked again”why Nicki Minaj?”
And he replied “why not? I mean she’s got a BIG ass” and give a shrug.
And then I’m like “But she’s like plastic, nothing’s real man” 
“So? I’m a liberal man. You should leave thinking like that in 2013” 
“But dude you didn’t vote for Obama, you said that nigga wants fags to vote.” 
Those are the kind of conversations I have with people. It’s not so bad cause black men don’t care bout what you think bout their ass fetish. It’s a stereotype nobody gives a fuck bout. There are other stereotypes that people of other races have fought hard to change. Like people say Asians don’t know how to drive. Or Jews are greedy with money, or all Europeans are racist. Those stereotypes need to be changed, but black people don’t want some to go away. The three major stereotypes black people don’t want to let go of are: black people love big asses; black people can run; and black men have big penises. When a black guy gets attention due to speculation bout his dick, he just gives off a slight grin. He doesn’t even say a word. In his mind he’s like “YEAHH BUDDDY”. 



Happy New Year to all.


(January 3rd, 1992 till January 18th, 2013)

It took me so much time and the help of Evangeline to finally write this because just like so many other little things that reminded me of you, writing your tribute seemed like finality to your death. I still remember the day you passed on and I kept thinking that maybe if i had stayed awake a little bit more, prayed a little bit more, called you a little bit more often, just maybe you would have stayed a little while longer. We always joked about it but losing you in the prime of your life without any warning, any explanation, was something we never thought would happen. I recall us making plans of staying together for our Masters, starting up our joint business, your plans of going to culinary school, falling in love, getting married… and with you gone, it is hard to think of these things alone.

As we became so close, to me you have always being the weird, funny girl who always wore her favourite headphones with your infectious love for soccer, good food and funny videos. I watched your relationship, which later turned into a sisterhood with Evangeline, Olamide and Ify and how you loved them unfailingly. Then as time went on, how Ehi, Tolu, Farida, You and I bonded in such a way I never thought was possible and giving us the best time of our lives both individually and while together. You always made everyone around you feel special irrespective of whom the person was and the atmosphere always lightened up when you were in a place, no matter how bad the situation.

It wasn’t just your connection with your friends but also with your family and the love and admiration that radiated forth when you would talk about Ane being funny; Cheyi being weird; your Mum being your best friend and giving you unexpected little gifts; your Dad’s conversations with you and Chelsea doing the silliest things. It made me giddy with joy knowing that I knew someone so remarkable and genuine. You breezed through life stress-less, not because your life wasn’t stressful but because you had the patience, courage, joy unlike any other human I know.
Now we can smile a little more knowing that you have found your way back to your Father, yet we selfishly wish you were still here with us. We miss your smile, your funny walk and infectious laugh. I miss watching funny videos with you, our late nights and indomie binges, weird way of greeting each day, our silly fights and deep conversations. Our friendship always boggled my mind, but it taught me more than I could have seen from where I was standing. You reminded me to smile and be thankful, to appreciate my life and not take things too seriously. It keeps on playing over and over in my head when Olamide told me you threw up your fist in the air shouting YES!, in jubilation right after watching the match where Manchester United won and the scenario, moments before you passed away, where you still comforted Ane saying, “I will be fine”.

Even though life will never be the same without you being here physically, your memories, footprints and spirit will always be with us. You are our “Ripple Effect” as you have taught us to love without judging and to always be strong as life isn’t for the faint of heart. You taught us to never play the victim, to always smile and find joy in the little things, to always appreciate everything and to be different in a good way. You were beautiful both on the outside and on the inside, always brave, caring, forgiving, a great listener and in all you were Awesome. I LOVE YOU Eyimife. WE LOVE YOU Eyimife.

We just lost to Heaven a pure soul, but I thank God for your awesome life which was fully well spent. You will forever live in our hearts for “To live in hearts of those you love is not to die”. You defeated death by living on baby. May Angels lead you in and I know we will all meet again, never to part. Rest easy, our new angel with Silver wings.

Forever in our hearts.

We Love You.

Eyimife Gbemisola Okoaye (E.G.O.)

This was penned by Cynthia, Mife’s best friend…heartbreaking really…but as Ibk said “Heaven couldn’t wait for you”.

Sleep well, Eyimife.

My Fat Friend’s Thoughts (III) – The Sugar Adventure.


I recently decided to stop taking sugar.. Like all forms or sugar and by recently I mean yesterday. Just a couple hours ago I was like fuck it I’ve got to cut back on my sugar intake especially through drinks and let me tell you it’s been so difficult for me. Sugar is so sweet, like I know everybody knows this but it can’t be understated how sweet sugar is.. And it’s not just for the taste, it’s also the energy that comes with sugar. When I used to take sugar (yesterday) I had so much energy in me.. Not that I used to do anything important or useful, it’s just that the energy was always there for me even if I didn’t want to do anything. So now I’m just a dull fat guy with no energy at all and no desire to do anything. But that’s not the worst part; the worst part is that I have to consciously decide how I’m going to spend my energy. Before the energy was so much that I could just do anything I felt like doing now it’s like I’m a manager of my own body.. Like I have to take charge and do things before I fall, faint and die. 


LOOOOL! The best is yet to come.

My Fat Friend’s Thoughts (II) – No title. Bad joke :(

Image People are such assholes.. Like big greasy dirty assholes. Like when I was getting really fat people would tease me bout it. They’ll say things like “you’re fat” and “you should consider losing some weight fat boy”.. But now when I decided to lose weight and become skinny people are going “I don’t know if being skinny will work for you” and I’m like what? Have you seen me be skinny before? How the hell do you know that? Do you just want me to breathe heavy all the time and die from cancer?


Yup. He did think that.

My Fat Friend’s Thoughts (I) – Jokes in Bad Taste

Hi Everyone! I’m back..Can’t explain how great that feels. Now over the last 3 weeks, my fat friend kept me entertained with write-ups of the crap that goes through his head. He’s brilliant in a screwed up way and I just felt; Well What the hell! I shouldn’t read this alone.

Enjoy. 😀 ^ ^



Giving advise to other people is easier. The other day I was telling someone that if he lived a proper life as a Christian God will help him with his life. After my demon laughed so hard at me I was exorcised.


This question is born from a 6-month argument with @laja_O_O I think the answer is yes. And this is my Extremely Self-important and pretentious reason, read with an open mind, if not I’m @bookjunk1e :D, let’s argue.

ImageI also found the grossest possible picture ^ ^

You’ve probably noticed that your penis often does its own thing. You may remember times when it was completely inappropriate to have an erection; and yet you couldn’t wish it away. And try commanding it to do otherwise – chances are you will be unsuccessful.

 Whether enemy or ally, demon or god, the source of satisfaction or the root of all earthly troubles, the penis has forced humanity to wrestle with its enduring mysteries. Here, in an enlightening and entertaining cultural study, let me give context to the central role of the penis in Western civilization. A man can hold his manhood in his hand, but who is really gripping whom? Is the penis the best in man — or the beast? How is man supposed to use it? And when does that use become abuse? Of all the bodily organs, only the penis forces man to confront such contradictions: something insistent yet reluctant, a tool that creates but also destroys, a part of the body that often seems apart from the body. This is the conundrum that makes the penis both hero and villain in a drama that shapes every man — and mankind along with it. It is an idea, a conceptual but flesh-and-blood measuring stick of man’s place in the world. That men have a penis is a scientific fact; how they think about it, feel about it, and use it is not. It is possible to identify the key moments in Western history when a new idea of the penis addressed the larger mystery of man’s relationship with it and changed forever the way that organ was conceived of and put to use. Idolized by the pagan cultures of the ancient world and demonized by the early Roman church, the organ was later secularized by pioneering anatomists such as Leonardo da Vinci. After being measured “scientifically” in an effort to subjugate some races while elevating others, the organ was psychoanalyzed by Sigmund Freud. As a result, the penis assumed a paradigmatic role in psychology — whether the patient was equipped with the organ or envied those who were. Now, after being politicized by feminism and exploited in countless ways by pop culture, the penis has been medicalized. The arrival of erection industry products such as Viagra is more than a health or business story. It is the latest — and perhaps final — chapter in one of the longest sagas in human history: the story of man’s relationship with his penis. Now, I conclude that the organ is not a mere body part; it does have a mind of its own. Man cannot control its actions.


Now, I dare you to argue with me.

 Odunayo. :*

The Soup Kitchen

Good Morning People-I-like-to-write-to. Here’s a moving piece from @TifeSoloye Hope you find it as amazing as I did.



‘Come along ..’.
I said a little too loudly and it startled her.
‘.. I’m sorry.. What do you need..?’.
She looked up at me and I was dazed.
There she stood; with the most beautiful framework.
Her hair; although fizzled out by the lack of care and comfort had strange ends; but they stood out.
It drooped down right to her back and was oak brown.
Her eyes; pure hazel with a lighter shade of brown in the middle; tear stained and sunken in.
Her hands held the prettiest set of dirty nails. There was a distinct outline of her fingers; her arms were frail and sickly but she tried to put up that front. That front I knew so well.
The front of confidence.

She looked up and forced a smile.
‘.. Some food for my.. My kids.. Please..’
There I was; looking at this obviously broken and lacking woman; but taking in all of her beauty; my mind had forgotten to take notice that there were three children behind her.
Then again, they were hiding behind her so it was difficult to really make them out.
One by one, they stepped forward; from the eldest; a young lad; about 11years old with scruffy hair; manning out his authority in his bold strides.
The supposed second child; a beautiful girl with dark hair; maybe taking her looks from her father; only her skin was lighter and her eyes were aqua green.
She stared right at me. With a bit of fear.
I was a little confused that I read fear in her eyes.
What was she afraid of?
Before my mind could juggle and order my thoughts, I felt a tug on my skirt.
I looked down and stared at what I believed is the most beautiful and breathtaking girl I have ever seen.
She was about 3years old; and she was an exact replica of her mother; only her innocence was radiating through all the perils she had been through.
She stared into my eyes; just like her sister; but her stare sent chills of love through my spine.
I really just wanted to hug her and tell her that the world is more beautiful than she perceives it to be.
‘.. Ma’am, I’m no hungry. Give mummy food first. She no eat since Tewsdae’
Tears welled up in my eyes.


Which half are you, the Father or the Mother?

So today we have a new guest writer (she’s a ranter, but she insists), @Cyntheeya aka Garfield, Fat Cat etc. Please don’t hold back your comments…



Which half are you, the Father or the Mother? 

    I woke up by 6 in the AM today (definitely not on my own accord) to participate in the baking of cakes, that I may eventually not partake in the feasting of, due to my new obsession with weight loss. 😦
    Despite the battered and bruised voice in my head, I voiced out my thoughts on this new found slave duty to the hearing of my very African mother. Minutes later after the words left my mouth, my inner child cringed as my subconscious recalled every insult thrown at me. 

    Even as that happened, realization dawned on me that this exhibition of character came from one of my gene donors…hopefully the winning one.
\( ˘̶̀˘̯˘̶́ )/  
    Those insults birthed this post which gives rise to this question, which half are you, the Mother or the Father?.
(Disclaimer: for those who know not of their mother’s or father’s, feel free to pick the winning side, whatever that means). 


The Drunk Garfield.




I write this today as one of the luckiest people I’ve ever met in my own life. I started out my life as an antisocial kid who attended therapy sessions. I was not troubled, just anti-social. I had only a fistful of friends-I have teeny-tiny fists- most of them, family.

Yet I sit here, grateful beyond measure, for the number, and the sheer blessings that I have got from meeting every unique person I call friend today.

My name is Odunayo. And I’m not the quintessential nerd, so put your boxes away, LOL I meant the stereotypical ones, because I do not fit into it, I will not fit into it. Not anymore. I now have a life…a very full life.

I have ups and downs, boys and girls, friends and friend-zoners. Name it, I have it. I’ve even rolled with the cool kids on occasion..:D.

Hard as it is to capture this wonderful people on paper, I have tried, knowing even as I write that I have not done them justice…

I would try one day at a time….one or two friends in a day



I have no doubts that it would soon be over

Done with, Vanished. Like it was never there

But while it lingers, here’s what I have to say.


I know the way you like to write

not book, just verses

I know the adorable way that your glasses

never stay on your face

They look perfect just perched atop your head

I know how you like to wink

not once, but multiple times in a given second

I know your irreverence

That cute rebelliousness against anything authority

The way you do you

regardless of what anyone says


Don’t blame me

I do not know so much about you

Afterall it’s only been about 8 hours

I would probably never get close

My own screwed up fault

So while this lasts,

short though it may be..

I will observe,

every little detail, all the tiny moments


So when it’s over 

and my sanity returns

Only a smile would be left

Everytime I remember..

My Bad Idea Crush