I developed the passion to write when I was just a kid. I started out as a reader. And boy, did I read! Novels, plays, poems, whatever had ink on it. I even went as far as reading dictionaries when I got bored.
The novels I read varied, depending on who I got them off. I mainly borrowed the book (but sometimes I was forced to “take” without proper permission) and on occasion I bought. The books I read increased my knowledge in various works of life. I wasn’t the brightest kid but I got my fair share.
I read my first “romance” novel when I was about nine. I didn’t quite understand the act of “coitus” at the time so I was intrigued as well as irritated. Then intrigue overshadowed irritation and gave way to addiction till I read a sizeable number of “mills and boon” and “harlequin” novels. Then finally, just like everything done too much, I grew tired. The stories became too predictable and boring and dead.
After the reign and fall of romance novels, I picked interest in another type of novel. African books. At the time my mother was doing a second degree in English in the University Of Lagos, hence the interest. For every Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe or Ngugi wa thoing’o recommended for them, I read. Sometimes I wouldn’t even understand what I was reading but I still read it anyway. I must say, African books hold more essence than any others I’ve read. The works are brilliant! The most intriguing one had to be Fate of a Cockroach by Tawfiq Al-Hakim. Great mind there!
Ofcourse my mother graduated and I lost supply. And interest. Then on I moved to books from authors that have made names for themselves. I started out with Danielle Steel. Then came Nora Robert, Stephen King, Dan Brown, John Grisham and the almighty Sidney Sheldon. There were others but these are my favourites. Sidney still tops it for me any day.
To finally end my story, the most innovative book I ever read still has to be Juju by an unknown author. (I never used to pay attention to authors then, a mistake I still pay price for). That book, Lord! I don’t know if it was because I was still a kid or whatever but I’m yet to see a book to top that one. I’ll tell the story on here sometime. *whew* what a story.
Well, I stopped reading at about age fifteen ‘cos it was affecting my grades. And I was a science student. (wetin consign science with literature ,right?). I stopped for a while, now I can hardly finish a normal sized book. Hence I began to write. I might not be the greatest but at least I can express my self in ways that give me inner peace.
By the way, my name is Chioma and I’m outta here! Deuces!


God? Or Not. – @Tu_Chae ‘s opinion

First entry by Chiemeka.

Twitter: @Tu_Chae

The universe. It’s the totality of existence as we know it. 46 billion light years in radius, containing over 100 billion galaxies which could consist of between 10 million to a trillion stars. One of these galaxies is the “Milky Way”, and in this galaxy there are roughly 400 billion planets, one of which happens to be earth and if you’re reading this then you’re probably from here.

 There are over 7 billion of us on this blue marble we call a planet, each one of us uniquely different from the other. We’ve been residing here for over 200,000 years and since then, there have been questions that we as a species have asked. “How did we get here?” “How did the universe come to be?” 

Science, in an attempt to answer these questions states that the universe began as very hot, small, and dense, with no stars, atoms, form, or structure. Then all of a sudden 14 billion years ago, space just happened to expand very quickly causing an explosion (The Big Bang) resulting in the formation of atoms which led to the creation of the stars and galaxies. An explosion. Really? That’s it? So according to science, the universe in all its came about as a result of a random explosion that “just happened”. 

The universe is a beautiful piece of art and the “artist” (whoever that may be) is a meticulous one, paying immense attention to detail. Everything thing is where it aught to be. Every star, every meteor, every planetary body. The earth is at the perfect distance from our sun that allows it to support life. The moon controls the tides, which in turn helps circulate heat and wind around the earth. All of this cannot be simply as a result of a freak accident.

The men in the white coats and gloves have made an attempt to explain all of this through scientific reasoning, but the fact is that it transcends all human reasoning. Jonathan Smith in 1771 said, “That the Universe was formed by a fortuitous Concourse of Atoms… I will no more believe, than that the accidental Jumbling of the Letters of the Alphabet could fall by chance into a most ingenious and learned Treatise of Philosophy”.

I like to visualize my mind as a door, and I write with an open mind, but a door can only be open SO much.

Statistics show that of the earth’s population, 39% believe firmly in “The Big Bang Theory” while 50% believe in the presence of an “artist”, a supreme being that transcends scientific reasoning… A creator. Keep in mind that there are roughly 4200 different religions being practiced in the world today. All with varying ideals, practices and belief systems, but there is one belief that all these religions share, only one thing that they all fully agree upon. There is a GOD.

By @Tu_Chae
To participate in this debate on creationism, send in your article(relevant to the topic) to chiomaannanna@gmail.com.

Chioma Nnanna


God? Or Not.


No, I’m not about to write a story or a poem. Lol.

A lot of people are pretty opinionated about the topic of Creation. There’s a never ending debate as to whether the universe and all its planetary bodies where indeed created by a supreme being or if it all came to be by… Chance. In view of this, I’ve decided to create an open platform for people to write about their opinions and the reasons they believe what they believe.

All articles (relevant to the above topic) should be sent to chiomaannanna@gmail.com and it would be publish with the full name and facebook or twitter username of the writer.

So I’m going to do a brief introduction on the Topic : God? Or not.

The belief in a supreme being is a tale as old as time. Different tribes of people have at some point created deities that they give some reverence to.
A website on ancient history and religion says;
“Throughout history, humans have ascribed various powers to supernatural beings. Such creatures include the immortal gods and goddesses. Some are given credit for the creation of the world and mankind, or food, warfare, love, and all the other good and bad elements of life. The gods and goddesses may be worshiped with altars, elaborate or gigantic statues, or sacrifices. Poets and other writers may tell stories featuring the traditional myths about the deities’ involvement in human life. If you read the entries on these gods and goddesses, you’ll see great differences from one society to the next. The most familiar will probably be the ones from Greek mythology, and of those, especially the dozen or so Olympian gods.” – Link

  • There were so many of such gods in different lands that one might think (not wrongly at that) that man is somehow structured to believe that they cannot survive on their own. Most times they believe that there’s One who is solely wise and knowledgeable of their existence. A creator.
  • In the course of history, the God of the hebrews, YHWH (or Yahweh) has endured overtime. So many gods have become long forgotten, but the Hebrew god held its own for many thousand years. In modern times, the two predominant religions are Islam and Christianity. They both share a common belief in the existence of One True God.
  • Over the centuries many have sought answers through religion. After Gautama (Buddha) was exposed to the sight of a sick man, an old man, and a dead man, he sought enlightenment, or meaning, in religion but without belief in a personal God.

    Yet, a lot of people will argue that such beliefs are for the most small-minded and delusional of us. Many focus on science, dismissing religion and ‘God’ as irrelevant. Religion and Atheism says, “The more science progresses, the less room there seems to be for God. God has become a Displaced Person.”

    While some believe that indeed a God exists, others are skeptical about such beliefs and a lot more have become firmly convinced that there is no such thing as a ‘God’.

    In the following articles, I’m going to be posting the views of other writers on the above topic. I’ll just keep an open-mind and wait for the articles to roll in.

    Chioma Nnanna


    Amalinze had no child.

    In the season of the cold northeasterly wind, when the leaves become weak and dry and fall to the ground, littering the market square and the path to the stream and all the compounds, the women and children of Umu-orji get creative with palm fronds, making heavy brooms to gather the leaves together and burn them. At cockcrow every morning, the sounds of the brooms along with the rustling of the leaves form a rhythm that makes one forget the bite of the cold harmattan wind and feel something almost euphoric.

    But Amalinze never felt such euphoria. In fact, he felt great grief in his heart for the gods failed to give him a child.

    Amalinze was a hunter. Not a great hunter by any standard but a hunter nonetheless. As a matter of fact, in his twenty years of going into the bushes in search of game, Amalinze had never for once caught an antelope. In a village where four men in recent history had slain lions and quite a number had brought home leopards, he can very well be described as an underachiever. But that was not Amalinze‘s biggest problem- he didn’t even consider it a problem. What greater problem could a man have than the lack of an offspring to bear his name? So no, Amalinze was never sad because he had no leopard skins hanging in his obi, or deer horns to drink special wine from, but because he had no child.

    Amalinze had no child.

    Yet, in the season of the cold northeasterly winds when all the leaves were weak and dry, Amalinze‘s compound always stayed clean. Isn’t that just a surprise seeing that as Amalinze left for the bushes every morning, so did his wife, Ugonwanyi, to the neighboring village to sell her husband’s bush rats? Who then cleaned Amalinze‘s compound in the season of the Northeasterly wind?

    And then the sun set and Amalinze would head home with his catch for the day. Perhaps he would walk home briskly like a man if the gods had only given him a child. Perhaps he wouldn’t drag his feet so much if he had children waiting to greet him at home. But he didn’t. So everyday after work, Amalinze dragged his feet and whistled his favorite song. Every child in Umu-Orji knew Amalinze‘s favorite song. In fact, whenever they saw him they mumbled this song amidst muffled giggles.

      Amalinze e weghi nwa, Uwa
      Kee ife Amalinze ga-eme, Uwa
      Amadioha a chi gbuo m, Uwa
      Ala a chi gbuo m, Uwa
      Amalinze e weghi nwa, Uwa

    But whenever Ugonwanyi prepared Amalinze‘s meals and left them in the pot to go pluck Utazi leaves at the farmland on the outskirts or whatever other endeavors the evening brought to her, the cold wind blew and the food would go cold before Amalinze dragged his feet home. Yet he never ate a cold meal even in the cold season. Who then kept warm Amalinze‘s meals in the season of the Northeasterly winds?

    And the grief in Amalinze‘s heart caused him to act foolishly. Perhaps if Amalinze had a child, he would remember to cover the gourd of drinking water properly to keep it from drying up. Perhaps if Amalinze had a child, he would not fall asleep in drunken stupor outside in the cold season and not wake up with a runny nose the next morning. Perhaps if Amalinze had a child, he would remember to oil his skin with Ude Aki or palm kernel oil and not go around looking like an nmuo or spirit.

    And Ugonwanyi ignored her husband’s foolishness for in her heart, she had come to realize that she married a stupid man.

    But the gourd of drinking water never dried up and Amalinze‘s skin glowed with oil when his daughter Adanma nursed him. As the cold turned into a fever, Amalinze kept cursing the gods for his childlessness even as Adanma nursed him. For years unending, Amalinze looked into the eyes of his daughter, Adanma and saw not a child but a girl. Of what use is a girl, he thought, except to sweep the yard and warm meals and close the gourd of drinking water and oil his skin during the season of the cold Northeasterly wind?

    And in that season, Amalinze passed away in the arms of the child he did not have, and not a tear was shed for him, for, of course, Amalinze had no child to grieve him.

    Chioma Nnanna



    The shrill noise of the speaker as the MC tested the microphone combined with the excited chattering of the crowd-a great great great crowd- caused a hubbub in the assembly. Efficient ushers directed the guest as they came in to various seats.


    The noise came to an abrupt stop. Everyone in the auditorium paid attention to the man on the platform. Or rather demon.

    “I now call onto the stage the devil himself, the one and only SATAN!”, the demon,a winged version of Brad Pitt, walked off the stage.

    The choir (courtesy CHURCH OF SATAN ) began singing choruses, the conductor, Anton Lavey himself  swung his baton front and back while vigorously nodding away to the music. All the while the audience sat without moving ,watching the platform as if in a trance.

    The trumpeter blew his horn three times to herald the man -creature if you may- as he climbed the platform.

    “Hi everyone, I’m the one they call devil and satan.”

    *crowd gasps*

    “Yeah yeah. Whatever.”

    “Well I gathered all of you here today to discuss a very crucial and disturbing matter. Yeah I know you should be asleep or at work or at school or whatever bullshit thing you do at your various timezones. By the way, we are still on earth for those of you who are curious. What with God hurling me and my friends down here and shit. Woe to the earth ,he said.

    *hysterical laughter, quite similar to that of the Joker..*

    “Okay so, long story short, last week I helped a computer geek get famous, his bullshit app and stuff, don’t know why humans find such frivolities fascinating; pfft. Whatever, so geek guy let me use his device to surf the internet. Don’t get me wrong, I know about the internet, I mean I sort of invented it, but I never really took time out to check out what humans were saying about me on the internet. So yesterday I checked and, lo and behold,I see images I find really disturbing. Before I start ,I’d like to state how annoying ANNOYING christendom is. They have everything written in their bible yet so ignorant. So I’m wondering why, why do ye humans depict me with two red horns and …and *breaks down in uncontrollable tears*
    “look, please just look at…

    “I look like an ogre here this picture for fuck’s sake!>>>             Image

    “I know I’m mean sometimes but is this not a little to the extreme? Now seriously, just look >>>>Image

    “This one actually had me shedding tears. how do i deserve to be depicted as an idiot with a YELLOW HORN!. HOW???


    I… I can’t even go further. Look for yourselves, LOOK and judge do I deserve to be depicted as this idiot with a fork. as a fucking idiot with a stupid beard and a useless fork!!! i cri evry tiem .Image

    “Now, that last one was particularly annoying. So yeah this is the reason for my annoyance.

    “Before I go further, if you are a christian move to the left please

    *a large number of people move to the left*

    “now, does it not say in the book of Ezekial that the devil was one of the most beautiful creatures God made? Does it not? ”


    “well,it does, you dimwits. Does it say  I’m black or red? Does it mention horns? No it doesn’t. So why?  Why?”

    “okay ,whatever. So I looked up images I’d like to be used to depict me. Be you a christian, a muslim, a jew, yazid, Bahá’í ,Zoroastrians satanist or whatever, take note.

    1. Image you see those eyes? yes! yes! yes!!!
    2. Image this sexy beast…

    Imageyum! yes! this one! this one!

    “looks a lot like me to be honest. And finally… if I am to be female, then this sexy muthafucker is all i ask.


    “okay faggots, you can go back to your businesses

    “uh hun, yo muslims first please!” *mutters under breath*

    “then the rest can run along after

    “oh by the way, Yasma!”

    Yasma,the demon that looks like Brad Pitt runs forward.

    “get those fucking atheists out of that other cell, don’t want them messing up stuff there.!”

    “oh but satan?”


    “why didn’t you let them atheists in on the convention?”

    “cos they are idiots, that’s why”

    *the two creatures chuckle*

    IN the human world, all the people went about their business unaware that they had all transcended to another realm for that very very important meeting.


    When a Tornado meets a Rainbow



    In the course of life, things happen that defy preconceived human theories

    Part 1•

    My alarm went off at 5:30, I never snooze it. In this relatively boring life I live, I get more than enough sleep.

    My name is Purity and I am a Poet(or I think I am). I work at the local library on Herbert Macaulay Way ,right beside the public primary school. My job is really exciting,I must say, I review works of acclaimed writers and poets,not to mention the quiet, serene environment allows me to do my own writing. I live a very simple life. I wake up by 5:30am and after my morning rituals I walk the short distance to my workplace. At exactly ten minutes to 7o’clock everyday, I resume at my desk to start a new day.

    I get along with my colleagues most times. Or all the time actually. Its really not that difficult. My grandmother used to say that I am like a burst of rainbow that extends its beauty to all within its reach. I guess I charmed my way into their hearts.

    I live by a reasonably strict schedule. Start work at 7, close from work by 4. I head to get my amazingly stubborn niece from school afterwards. Bath and feed her, then help her with her homework. Most times, she’s already fast asleep when her mother comes over to get her around 6pm on her way to their home in Ikoyi. Afterwards I do a little reading and have dinner. And then I go to bed… alone!

    Alone. I’m used to ‘alone’. I just recently broke off my engagement with John, a lecturer at the public university. I’m not one prone to casual sexual rendezvous, so that ‘area’ has been quite neglected lately.
    Now, as I walk the short distance to work, I can’t help but think ,my life really really need some excitement in it.

    7:30am the next morning.
    It was really rainy this morning. If only I had a car I wouldn’t have had to walk to work in the rain. Well, I don’t, so I grabbed my umbrella and set out. I threw on a sweater, put my black work shoes in my bag, wore rubber flip-flops and left. I had walked just a few blocks when a strong gust of wind sent my umbrella sailing in the air and into the overflowing gutter. Crap. I ran back towards my compound, almost getting soaked. Just as I was about to open the gate and enter, I heard a car horn just behind. I turned around and saw, in a black Range Rover, a man beckoning me to come in. I didn’t have time to think, the rain and all,I just ran and got in.

    The interior of the car was a little dark, I couldn’t clearly make out the man’s features but I knew he was handsome. He wound up and started the engine.
    sorry”, his voice was divine.
    My name’s Mubarak. Mubarak Al-mutalab.”
    I squinted a little to get a clearer view of his face. “I’m Purity”. My voice shook a little. The man had an air to him, and it was very attractive. My palms were warm. I turned my attention back to the road. He didn’t say anything more afterwards. I guess he’s not a man of many words. The short drive to the library was quiet and tense like a million silent words were being spoken. At the library, he insisted on driving into the compound despite my objections. As I got off, I felt his eyes on my back until I got into my office.

    Later, as I thought about Mubarak for the umpteenth time that day, I realized he didn’t get my number. Shoot.

    Part 2•
    I live by the principle that Money rules the world. Money is something I had more than enough of. Hence, I rule my world and by extension yours.

    They call me Mubarak, the blessed one. I was born into an Islamic home but after years of studying religion I decided it hardly made any sense with its constant inconsistencies and lack of convincing evidence. Today, I’m atheist. Some say I am arrogant, some say I’m an asshole. I care not about all these. I’m a man of very few words, I only talk when absolutely necessary. My pocket usually does all the talking for me. I always got what I wanted. No woman I wanted ever turned me down. Whether she was Single, married or even dead, If I wanted her in my bed, I would have her in my bed. I had vowed never to get married unless I ever found a woman that I deemed intelligent enough. Sadly, this kind of woman remained a myth to me.

    I happen to be the youngest of the three directors of Chevron Nigeria and I make more money per year than you would probably make in your entire life.

    My mornings were simple yet unpredictable. One thing was certain though, I was up by 6AM irrespective of the time I went to bed the previous night. This morning was no different, I got up from my bed fit for 3 kings, swiftly completed 50 pushups and walked into the shower. I’m one of those that believe real men stick to a cold shower no matter the weather. A few minutes later, I was done brushing my teeth and cleansing my body. Haha. I like that word, “cleansing”.

    I stood in front of the mirror naked. This is a ritual I perform every morning. Gazing upon all 6″4 of me, strong arms, broad shoulders, firm abs and a well structured torso always made me feel invincible. The icing on the cake was the huge snake swinging freely between my legs. Excuse my smugness, but I am a complete man by all necessary standards.
    I put on my briefs and singlet and threw a jalamai over my head. I was dressed for work.
    I stepped out of my room and gracefully went down the flight of stairs. This is me stamping on pure Italian leather with each step and I loved it.
    “Good morning sir, your breakfast is ready.” My cook Jamal pointed out. “No food for me this morning Jamal, you can eat it.” He asked no questions, why he still worked for me. I walked out of the house into the compound where I met Ahmed my gateman washing my C class. “Morning Oga.” … “Can’t you see its about to rain? Get me the keys to the Range.” A few minutes later, I was on Hebert Macualey…

    I first noticed an Umbrella flying through the air before I saw the owner on her heels. Her helpless look is what first caught my attention. Mann..was she beautiful. all the while running towards me. She suddenly turned and made a dash for a gate. I drove towards her, honking and beckoning her to come over. She stopped and hesitated for a second, before she made her way into my Range Rover. I asked where she was headed and introduced myself. She did too. Her name, Purity! I’m not sure if my presence intimidated her or she was naturally shy. What I know is I already had the upper hand.
    I said nothing else till we got to her place of work, a library. Despite the protests, I drove into the compound. Just before she got down I slipped my business card into her bag and watched her fleshy backside sway from side to side as she went into the library. I drove out of the compound…

    To be continued…

    Nnanna Chioma/Bambo Adegboyega.


    Blood in the roots

    In April 1994, Hutu extremists carried out a wave of murders that left over 800,000 Tutsi’s and moderate Hutu’s dead. The code phrase for mobilizing the machete wilding squad that carried out this genocide was to “cut the tall trees”. The Tutsi’s are a distinctly tall group of people.






    Blood in the Roots


    They waited for April.


    Because it came with rain

    To wash their blood

    Concealing the devil’s work


    Cut the trees, Cut the trees

    Let the rain come

    And wash away our sins


    So the trees were cut

    And the rain did come

    But their sins were never washed


    Because the blood they spilt

    Flowed down the streams

    To feed the trees that now stand tall.




    Adedapo Anthony Macaulay

    © 2009




    It’s a windy saturday morning in Wazan residential estate and if you were standing by the branded beach umbrella at the gate leading into the estate, you’d notice two men walking towards a modern semi-detached bungalow. And if ,for some reason, these men interest you, you’d also notice that one of the men is a tall distinguished looking older man and the other is a young adult with a rather wimpish physique. That being said, this is what would happen if you just grabbed a chair , sat  and watched.

    The men would approach the house and knock. The householder, a man in his late thirties most likely , would open the well-polished wooden door and say something to the men. The older man would reach for the black briefcase in his hand and then he would say something …


    Now put a finger in both your ears. Done? Okay, you just wore invisible earphones, now you hear EVERYTHING.

    “I’d like to talk to you about G-strings” – The older man.

    “what?” -The householder.

    “can I come in?”- The older man.

        The older man (and the wimp) walk into the house (without permission!). He actually shoves the householder aside and walks in.

    Here , binoculars, you can now see inside the house! You’re welcome.

    “HEY! Get the hell out of my house now!”- the householder

    “Hey mister sit down. Be civil.”- the older man

    “Civil!! You break into my house and you ask me to be civil?”-the householder

    “I didn’t break in, you let me in.” -the older man


    “I’m calling the police.” -the householder

    “Okay”-the older man


    where’s my damn phone!”-the householder

    “with me”-the older man

    how did you get my phone !“-the householder

    The older man would get off the chair and walk to the householder.

    “Look man, I have no time for this ,please take a seat. You’ll need it.”-the older man

    The householder walks slowly, quietly to a single seater sofa and sits. So did the older man but on a two seater. The wimp is very very quiet.

    ‘Well, two years ago, on a rainy sunday morning, you saw a classmate from the university walking to church, You, in your Honda CR-v, purposely splashed mud on the young man’s church clothes”- the older man

    “this is ridiculous”-the householder

    “it is? well,  four years earlier, you switched your final project with this young man’s. This project got you this job that got you this house and these cars and this beautiful woman”-the older man


    The older man would pick up a framed  photograph of  a very beautiful woman . admire it for a few minutes and then drop it.  

    look, i don’t know what you are talking about“-the householder

    don’t add lies to your transgressions please“-the older man

    “please, leave my house now. I’m SICK of all this. Get out!”- the householder

    ” do you know how many nights that young man kept up ,thinking why his project he worked so fucking hard on ,excuse my french, scored so badly?

    do you know how many times that young man had to take his paper back to be remarked, ’cause he knew he had worked too hard to get such a poor score?

    do you know how devastated that young man was when he kept getting that score over and over again? When the job he had envisioned would fall on his laps after he graduated was given to someone else ? “- the older man

    The householder starts sweating. he leans forward in his chair.

    “w w w why are you telling me all this?”-the householder

    because you let yourself forget, that’s why”-the older man

    but you cant be him. you are too old. this doesn’t make sense”- the householder

    “oh it will… of course I’m not him. of course”- the older man

    The doorbell would ring. The householder would get up to get it. The older man would get up too. The wimp sits on his seat looking bewildered.

    On the other side of the door was a woman. Very beautiful. The woman from the photograph. For someone seating by the beach umbrella at the entrance of the estate, you can see perfectly the woman entering the house even without your binoculars. She enters the house and again you raise your binoculars to your eyes.

    “hello ma’am. We are old old old friends of your husband here. You are welcome ma’am.”- the older man

    oh thank you, You’re welcome. Let me leave you to catch up.”- the beautiful woman

    The woman’s face shows she’s  confused. She looks at her husband but the man looks away. She shrugs and walks out of view.

    she’s even prettier than in her photos”- the older man

    “leave my wife out of this!-

    “what is it you want ? Money ? I’d pay you whatever please just leave my family out of this”- the householder

    oh, its too late for that now, Mister. Come, come out let me show you something”- the older man

    I’m not going anywhere with you!”- the householder

    “dont be silly. follow me.”- the older man

    There’s silence for several minutes. The older man stands. Then the householder. And then the wimp. All three of them walk out of the modern semi-detached bungalow and out into the street.

    Look an explosion!”- The older man.

    What the hell are hell are you talking about, you insane son of a …”- the householder

    ” mm hmm, the name’s Karma”- the older man a.k.a Karma


    Oops ,your binoculars just shattered. Well, hi I’m Jamal a.k.a the wimp. I don’t know this man at whose feet I’m lying (I fell after the fucking explosion) but I just watched him blow up a man’s house with his wife still in it. In-fucking-credulous right? I’m scared shit out of my mind right now but I won’t lie to you ,I’m starstruck. I mean,  this man is superman or something. This man is fucking Chuck Norris. I don’t even know what to say… Damn.

    Well, we left the crying man to mourn and go crazy over the loss of his house and wife. My legs are shaking so much, my palm is sweaty, I just really need a seat… Oh yeah, a  couple hours earlier…

    I’d like to talk to you about G-strings”- the older man

    what“- the wimp a.k.a me

    “can I  sit?”-the older man

    err yeah. So, what about g-strings”- me (I love G-strings)

    four years ago, you put a caterpillar on a girl’s chair in class and it gave her such a fright that she had to stay in the hospital for days”-the older man

    that was a long time ago. How do you know this ?”- me, clueless

    ” follow me.”- the older man

    “why”- me

    Well, I did follow him and he took me to that man’s house. Now my legs won’t stop shaking. I guess he really is Karma. If Karma were a man, he’d look like that. Definitely… Oh, my God! I  should ask him…

    hey! Hey! Karma!“-me, running after him like a wimp

    The older man stopped. I stopped too and tried to catch my breath.

    “why G-strings?”-me


    “why do you use G-strings?”- me


    what’s the next best thing after Jesus ?”- Karma, the fucking genius older man

    WOW! Wow!! He is a genius! Oh my God! I can’t stop smiling… Well, today was fun (whew) Just as I turned to leave, I heard Karma say to a woman that sells roasted corn just outside the estate  gate beside the beach umbrella where you are seated. (you can take off the ear phones by the way)

    I’d like to talk to you about G-strings”