Thursday, 23 January 2014

[ When YOU Can't Say It Enough! ]

Fuck you and your rules
Fuck you and your disappointment

Fuck that look of judgement and that look that that tells me I'll hear about it later
Fuck you and your hypocrisy, your do as as I say and not as I do
Fuck that
Fuck your pleading that I be the better person, that you can't take what you dish out
Fuck you and your certainty that I can't live without you
What a fucking joke
Fuck the dissembling, the half-truths, the white lies, the bald faced deception
Fuck the righteous indignation, the petulant sulks when you're caught out
Fuck the times you're actually right
Fuck not being me
Fuck thinking you can do better than me
Fuck that, I dare you
Fuck me letting you get away with it
Fool me once, fuck you
Fool me twice, fuck me
Fuck this
Fuck it.

Guest Post by @samied

Monday, 11 November 2013

Monday GetUp

if by now you haven't seen this video... you are definitely sleeping on a bicycle!
not sure how they found these well fed, highly energetic ladies... 
i might have to start a talent recruitment agency.... 

Enjoy the video if you havent seen it... and if you have...
i know you want to see it again ;) !

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

Hump-Day Music [Shame Summer is Over]

Mavado Ft Nicki... Give it to me

Shame summer over... atleast for most of you... In Nigeria... think its bout to start!
Beach movement... Check!!!

Friday, 1 November 2013


That moment when it seems like there is no point.
No point going out…
No point meeting new people.
No point trying to build something with someone new.

It’s all pointless…
A joke.
Everything is a mess…
And I would rather exist in that lonely mess
That way I don’t have to worry about someone else
Until you finally realize that you were right…
There really is no point!

That depression starts to creep in.
You’re sure you want to drink it away
But that Jameson don’t taste right,
Don’t get you tipsy no more.
It’s like poison and you wonder,
Is there any escape?
I am not at least allowed to drown in my own sorrow?

What.The.Fuck is the point of all of this?

“We head to the club, have drinks, 
pretend to be interested in the 
random ass conversation you're having 
with a complete stranger…"

In Her mind: ohh he is really smart, and seems to be interesting, nice arms
In My mind: she's got a nice smile, phat ass and great tits… can I touch?
We exchange numbers… but I know I won't call and the games begin…
She waits for me… I'm off drinking…
She calls me… I'm somewhere chillin'
She waits for me… I don’t even remember I ever met her
I bump into her randomly… and I don’t know who she is

Met her a couple times
She’d invite me out.
Never made it…
What’s the point?
I’m not interested,
Can’t be interested.
Don’t want to be interested.
At this point,
I hate the thought of being interested.
What’s the point?
It all ends the same way…

Someone pissed at someone for something someone did to someone

It’s too noisy.
Too many people.
I walk out, my mind racing.
Why am I here?
How did I get here?
Where did this drink come from?
My phone rings

And it’s her…

She says she’s missed me.
I feel a little light-headed…
The Jameson suddenly kicks in
And I can finally hear the ice dance in the glass

"All of a sudden the noise fades… 
the music sounds good
The people look different… 
happier, less desperate
The Jameson tastes… 

I take another sip to be sure I'm not trippin’.
Tonight could be fun 
Now I get it… that’s the whole point to this cycle of pointlessness

The search for that one moment of clarity…
When nothing matters and everything seems worth it

We live then inevitably die.

How we live is what matters.
Some are lucky to find someone to share that life with,
Not so fortunate.

Good luck to you on the journey.

May your Jameson forever taste like the nectar of the gods.

Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Addicted To Life

We are fortunate/unfortunate (depends on how you see things) to be part of a generation where we have access to excess, little or no hindrances, mostly financially stable even with all the problems with the economy... or are we just down-right irresponsible and oblivious to the events that threaten our future?

With all the presumed carelessness, we are still creatures that will strive to survive and the breaking point usually brings about a certain realization... Mortality. 

We can be addicted to drugs, sex, alcohol and all what not... but the one thing everyone is addicted to is life... the idea of living... the opportunity to learn from mistakes... right wrongs etc... staying alive or self preservation has to be the ultimate addiction. 

We all have our experiences and i decided to collect a few from friends, see if i can start a series of sorts... 


My name is Charles and I am addicted to life. I woke up that faithful morning, refreshed from a good night’s sleep without the cast on my leg. I was elated to have my ankle healed and even happier that I was back working out. The state of my body has always been of interest to me and as a result I strive to maintain an appearance of athleticism. I pick out my trusty beach shorts and donned a shirt made out of a fine Italian cotton, light and airy to give an onlooker the idea that I reside on an African Riviera.
The plan was to be picked up by my best friend’s younger brother because we were passengers on the family boat. I had been waiting for this day for weeks. The women, the alcohol, the sun, the pool, the food, all these things seemed to cause me to salivate at the thought of all the debauchery that would take place as I arrived closer to the 28th anniversary of being alive.

Once we docked at the beach house I went straight into the pool to wash the sand off me from the ATV journey there and to give the girls already in attendance a sneak preview of the body I had been building in the gym since my leg came out of the cast. I strolled over to the cooler and picked up a bottle of Belvedere and an almost nearly frozen bottle of Moet. Oh and if you’re wondering, it was rose, this is the Riviera, I couldn’t let my geographical location down. After distributing drinks to my sister and her friends plus a bunch of other party-goers who had convened at the table where I was sat I proceeded to mix my own potion for the day.
"3 parts of vodka,
2 parts of champagne
a splash of 
bitter lemon"

3 parts of vodka, 2 parts of champagne, a splash of bitter lemon. This was what I had planned to drink all day. I had done much worse than this before as normally I would take out the lemon and add two shots of Jagermeister to the mix. So I felt I was being responsible by starting the day slowly. 

After about 8 of these drinks I noticed my balance was suffering and I couldn’t keep my legs from slipping under me. This is where my memory starts to fade but fortunately enough my actions were viewed by all the guests at the party like a circus performer at the palace of a king. The next memory I have is being hoisted onto the ATV and the strong stench of body odour emanating from the person holding me up. Next was the tortuous boat ride back to civilisation that left me feeling like a freshly blended frozen Margherita. After those glimmers of memory the last and final thing I remembered was being held up by the driver and one of my mother’s tailors in a cold shower to sober me out of my drunken stupor, muttering the words, 

" “I’m sorry mummy, 
I’m so sorry” 
over and over again"

“I’m sorry mummy, I’m so sorry” over and over again. The aftermath of this day out resulted in a 5 week long hangover for some who had never suffered for more that 2 hrs. I lost body weight drastically because I couldn’t eat solids. My skin lost its lustre and my hair refused to grow. This whole event marked the end of my drinking days. Today I am one year and 2 months sober and still going strong. I am a better person for it, mentally and physically. My advice to all is when you stop having fun with it, you need to stop. The experience marked a decade in my years as a solid drinker. 10 years of systematic and calculated abuse of alcohol and my body decided it had taken on enough for a whole lifetime. 

So, my name is Charles and I’m addicted to life. I want to live a glorious one in fantastic health. 

Guest post by @3hvndred

The Weeknd - Live for (ft Drake)

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

[Hump-Day Music]

thought this was funny... light music for your Wednesday...

Dont drop it!

Tuesday, 30 July 2013

[Popping an Unpopular Question]

The past couple months have been rather interesting… met people… beautiful people, fun people, 
retarded people… get in where you fit in…

Anyways in all this the boy finds himself in conversations that “naturally” revolve around relationships 
and all that good stuff. Let me start by saying a good number of my friends are married… so you can 
imagine what happens when we out and I “TURN UP” empty handed looking at them like… “nigga enjoy 
your jail time” 

Recently the topic was… “Asking a girl Out” at least that’s how I remember it was asked.  Will tell you for 
free... the guys looked confused… I will use myself as the first example. I do not remember asking a girl 
out on a “date”! At least in my mind it wasn’t a date… it was more like a “lets kick it” kinda thing… we 
hang out and before I know what’s going on... I am in a relationship.

This continued till I met a different kinda girl…

Anyways, I got to asking dudes if they remember ever asking any girl out to be their “Girl Friend”. 
Personally I am not sure how the question should be asked… 

1. Will you be my girlfriend?
2. Should we go steady?
3. *get down on one knee* can I be your boyfriend? (wonder what this nigga would do when he 
plans to get married)

I was happy when I realized that I wasn’t the only guy who found it hard to recall how they ended up 
with a girlfriend or how she accepted his proposal if one was ever tendered… as guys, I think we prefer 
that scenario… it comes with a disclaimer…

“Hey if you can’t remember when I asked or how I asked… then I guess we technically aren’t dating”

He sets out to replenish his harem *joke?*

When a guy can put a date to an event… he no longer has an excuse… no reason to be seemingly lost… 
none of all that “I never asked you” type bullshit… 

“what’s understood aint got to be said”

We have so warped this dating exercise to suit us… and only a truly “bad bitch” can hit that reset button 
and bring a nigga back to his senses. It’s gotten so bad that women who now find they are emotionally 
in too deep are reluctant to ask the questions… 

1. What are we?
2. What are we doing?
3. Am I your girlfriend?

Truth is… if you made the dude ask you to be his “girlfriend” in the first place as opposed to going with 
the damn flow them questions will not come up… it would have been understood from jump-street.
Then again, I can’t blame you… the fear of losing something seemingly great or over-complicating 
a ‘relationship’ by asking questions can have the best of us feeling like we  are stuck between a rock and 
a hard place. But I tell you this… ask that nigga what you guys are doing… make him define it. He may 
not like it but if he’s into you he will do it and see if you won’t feel better for it…  If he refuses to, then...


Peace and Love