Nude Guy at the traffic light - Therapy Session

I'm getting worse and worse when it comes to putting out these blog posts. Don't know if it's because I always have a lot on my mind or if it's just sheer laziness. It is definitely not a lack of topics - have tens of them lying in the 'vault'. But unfortunately they still have to wait their turn because last night's experience has taken precedence. Here we go!

So its 9 pm Friday night and it's time for me to head home from work. At the traffic stop just before I hit the main street, I see a bunch of people marching the streets, like some sort of procession. The lights turn green but can't move because these guys are still marching and chanting right in front of my vehicle. Its past 9pm now and I'm the only one under that traffic light. That means I couldn't blow my horn nor show attitude since I didnt have no back up. The last thing I want is to get jumped by a bunch of excited, sweaty, half-naked dudes on a Friday night. That's the type of story you take to the grave: one you cannot even tell your friends about since it will become a running joke forever. So I kept my cool. The light turns red again and these guys keep coming: a bunch of them too. As the saying goes..."there is always that one person who takes things overboard". Well, there isn't any saying like that actually, but you guys get the point. Just as the light turned green again, this little guy stops right in front of the vehicle and starts dancing and stripping. Mind you, this is late evening, and my car lights are shining brightly at him. That is to say, everything was wayyy to clear for my liking.

This dude takes of his shirt facing the vehicle, then turns around and takes off his pants to display his butt cheeks. Now, I'm sitting in the car thinking "This dude is lucky it's not just him and I, I definitely would have poked him with the car so he hits his head for sure". Like the scene wasn't bad enough, he bends down with his back facing me, opens his legs widely and spreads out his butt cheeks, with my high definition- HD lights shining right through it..WHAAAAT!!

That was a biology class I was not prepared for. I did not even see anything strange because the light was shining so brightly, but I didn't see anything 'unstrange' either. It was just a very confusing and bizarre sight. It's like staring through the barrel of a gun. You kind-of see the bullet in it but you don't really see the bullet in it. Got it?? 😐 I started getting scared immediately; didn't know why. Lo and Behold, the green-light came up and this guy decided to sit on the hood of my car with his bare buttocks before he moved on with his friends. Just so you know, his imprints are still visible my hood y'all. Disturbing, I know! Washing bay tomorrow I guess. 😒

On my way home, this played on my mind the entire time. "Where did that fear come from?", I thought. Immediately, I flashed back to 2011 in Gothenburg when I had similar but a more fearful experience. It was summer time and school had vacated. I was oneday walking through the quiet campus to a soccer training session, few blocks away from the school. In one of the dark alleys, I saw a big Indian-looking dude on a bike riding my direction. I didn't think anything of it and just continued to do my thing. He gets close to me, stops his bike, and says "hello". I take my headphones out and respond amicably. He then says, to this date the scariest words I have ever heard in my life, "Do you want me to suck you?". My heart dropped immediately. I felt I misheard, so I asked "What?". Then he says it more explicitly (PG 30) and adds a smile to it... like that was going to do the trick. SMH! Akoa wei paa. I smiled back and said "Nah man, I'm good. I'm straight. But Thanks" and pursed walking. I guess he thought I was playing hard-to-get so he kept looking back like I'll eventually change my mind. Soon as I turned the corner, I started running so hard and didn't stop till I reached the training... with everyone asking why I was in so much hurry while I was half-an-hour early. All I could think was "What if he didn't ask nicely? What if he tried to force it?" Boy was I terrified.😁. Now listen, I'm no push-over. I benchpress 80 kilos (176 lbs) and squat 130 kilos (280 lbs) so I can handle myself... but something about the THOUGHT of forceful entry to a man's rear end makes you lose every ounce of confidence and scares the living crap out of me. I guess if I were superman, my kryptonite would be called "Bootyhole", or "Forceful Entry", or something mildly inappropriate like that. 😛

I'm saying all this to say, when the little skinny dude did that crap yesterday, these were the kind of things that popped up while I was heading home. I think it is safe to say that I didn't enjoy my ride home. I've had better nights for sure. It is also safe to say that I cannot survive in jail (if you  know what happens in jail). Thank God Momma raised me to live a proper lifestyle. haha

Sorry to bring y'all this inappropriate tale this happy Saturday evening. But just like comedy, writing is therapeutic, so you readers are my therapists. Thank you  👌👍

Oh, to make this post even more weird. I think Gay men should be leading the frontlines when it comes to WAR. I think nobody is braver than a MAN who makes the CONSCIOUS decision to utilize his anal cavity for extra curricular activies. That's the most hardcore & gangsta thing I've ever seen in my life, EVER.  😂

Thanks for reading y'all.......Peace ✌

NO PICTURES FOR THIS POST...COULDN'T FIND ANY NON-DISTURBING PHOTOS 😆

An afternoon with Mr. GBOZO, the painter

I’ve been working on a post called “Money made me do it” for a while. That was actually the post I had to publish after the last one. But my experience with Mr Gbozo, the painter, was so ill that I had to write about that instead.

One night when I was with my boy Leroy watching episode 7 of “Start up”, I asked him who had done the paintjob on his house and he said “Mister Gbozo”.“Mister Gbozo? What’s with the Mister?”, I asked. He responded “he’s OLD”. Mind you, Leroy has always hooked me up with artisans, but I’ve never heard him call none of them 'Mister'. Its usually Richard - the electrician, Richie - the plumber, Moses - the mason, Daniel - the ceiling guy, etc. So I asked him “Dude, like how old?”. He looks me dead in the eye and repeats “OOLD”. I took his number, called him and arranged to meet Wednesday, the following week.

Wednesday came quickly and we agreed that morning to meet at my neighborhood, close to Leroy’s home, at 9 am. I was on time, you know, first impressions and all that. But most importantly, I didn’t want to keep an old man waiting. Maybe he had a bad hip, who knows. So I picked him up, went to show him the place and later agreed to go to the Coral Store to get the paint we needed.

Mr. Gbozo is old indeed. Mr. Gbozo only spoke English, and Mr Gbozo never spoke unless he was spoken to. And Oh! When I met Mr. Gbozo he was leaning on a pole just before I picked him up. My guess is, he has a bad hip for real. In short, Mr. Gbozo was a character and it was about to be a long afternoon.

We spent about an hour at the Coral store. To a point where the store keeper was getting inpatient with us. Why? Because Mr Gbozo didn’t want to chip in at all. I’ll say “I want the walls to be green, do you think it’ll match the brown floor and white ceiling?”. Then he’ll say with a smile “Umm, I don’t know, it’s your work, so”. I’ll later again ask “Mr Gbozo, Is the red too bright for the doors or does it need to be mixed first?”, He’d respond “Umm, maybe. But I don’t know, it’s your work, so”. “Damn, this man has got no opinions? I asked myself. So I happened to get all the paint we needed, no thanks to Mr. Gbozo, and now it was time to check the prices and pay.

I step out for a minute to get something from the vehicle and when I return, Mr Gbozo has a pen and paper and I notice him working something out on paper. I figured he was doing some estimations so I didn’t bother. I kept going around the store looking at different colors. After a couple of minutes, I returned and saw the lady at the store furious. I noticed Mr Gbozo was still working out his math. I got closer and realized he was actually summing up the prices of the paint we had chosen. Do y'all remember how we used to do arithmetic like 20 years ago when calculators weren’t around? I’m talking about “carry one”, “remainder one” sort of stuff - like grade-1 math. That was what Mr. Gbozo was doing. I saw his paper and was like “Ah! Mr. Gbozo, what are you doing? Are you doing calculations here?”. He said “Yea”. I was a little frustrated and like “Ah, Mr. Gbozo, do you see a money counter, a laptop and that big ass calculator right next to you? I thought you were even working out an amount for discount. This is a big store, nobody has time for carry ones and remainder twos oo”. He smiles and says “Okay, we can use the calculator. It’s your work, so”. I had to laugh that one off. What’s with this man and the term “It’s your work, so”, I thought.

So we buy the buckets we need, put them at the back of the vehicle and take them away. I go to drop off Mr. Gbozo on my way home and just before he gets off, he says “You know if you get me another job, we can negotiate your share and you can get a cut from it”. I looked at him dead in the eye and thought “So you know how to initiate conversation? This man hadn’t said a word the whole trip and when he finally does, he decides to negotiate a monetary deal with me? SMH. I couldn’t even be mad at him. At least, he is about his money. I respected that.

After he alighted, I called my friend Leroy, and said “Yo, but wey painter you give me no?”. He responds “Oh! you met Mr. Gbozo, didn’t you? I told you he was OLD...and not just OLD but he's the embodiment of the term OLD”. Couldn’t help but laugh. I said "Bruh this is different, my Dad is older and he isn't like this". Leroy says "But your Dad isn't a painter, is he?. Then I reply "What are you saying? you mean something about smelling paint your whole life makes you hate the times we are in?". He laughed and said "Oh, you saw that too? How many hours were you with him?". I said "Long enough bro". He asked "Have you seen him eat? ...."NO, and I do not want to see either. Thanks for offering though" I replied. 😁 ...That was enough for a day 

Mr. Gbozo will definitely come up in conversation when we watch episode 8 of “START UP” for sure. Can’t wait. 

Shout out to the hommie Leroy (aka YayyYayy). Much Love!

Thanks for reading y'all......Peaceeee ✌

                 

   Mr. GBOZO in your shot. Check out his stance. I knew he had a bad hip 😁

 

I came in to see Mr. Gbozo like this....thinking he was estimating something. Boy was I wrong.

 

Mr. Gbozo remembered his old school days. This man is definitely not going along with the times. This is what I call "Stuck in the 50s". Do y'all realize his calculations are even incorrect ?? haha

 

There lie a calculator, a money counter and a laptop right next to Mr. Gbozo. This man just didn't give a damn. 😂

 

Carry ONE, Remainder ONE

 

Mr. Gbozo will love this, wouldn't he?

When Meeting The Doctors Go Wrong

I've been to the hospital more times in the last 3 months than my entire life combined: from spending hours - to spending nights - to spending full days. In these couple of months, I have seen, interacted and heard more doctor-slang than any other 'language'. So much that I can literally make a full diagnosis on a sick patient, having spent not a second in a medical class. 

When a patient is admitted, doctors come in and out. Depending on what your lab results show, the corresponding doctor comes to introduce him or herself and tells you what is happening with you and how they plan to proceed with treatment. But before that, the nurse on duty usually tells you which doctor will be coming, so the patient prepares to meet them. Now that is what causes problems, for me at least, is THE EXPECTATION. 😩

So it was my old man who was on admission. After a few days under admission, we were informed the dietitian would be coming around. After a few hours she comes in and says to my dad "Mr. Ellis, do you know who I am". She caught my attention with those words - very dramatic, right? My dad responds "You are the dietitian". Then she replies "Yes! do you know why I'm here?". Now I'm getting a little frustrated and thinking "Masa! what is this? A pop quiz for a dying man in a wheel chair?". My dad responds "I don't know". I guess he was getting slightly irritated himself. So in the process of telling my dad what to eat and what not to, she says "You can eat eggs, but just eat the white part and give the yolk to him". By him, she meant ME. I said to her "Oh yeah? So I can get sick and come here for you to tell me not to eat yolks, right?". She cracks a smile and moves on. At that point I knew it was going to be a long couple of days there.

After a few hours, we were informed another doctor would come around. Something like the prostate doctor if I heard it correctly. After several hours of waiting, someone knocks, opens the door and steps in. Soon as she stepped in, my dad and I looked at each other. Even though we didn't utter any words, I know we both thought "DAMN". This young doctor was about 400 Lbs. That's about 180 kg. That is a LOT of weight y'all. I know a doctor is supposed to inspire confidence in a patient but this doctor clearly did not. She rather scared the heck out of us. My dad and I looked at each other like "Crap, we've got to get the hell out of here".  She proceeds to kick me out of the room after telling my dad to pull his pants down. "Wait! you get to see that and I can't? Why?" I thought. That's a story for another day.

Anyway, I thought to myself "Are patients less likely to trust doctors who are obese?" It seems like an unreasonable thought but it's a valid concern because you expect people in other careers to match what they are selling: dentists to have good teeth, dermatologists to have nice skin, gym-trainers to have good physique - and so on. With that reasoning, shouldn’t doctors be the perfect picture of health in areas of medicine that they can control? I’m not talking about doctors being sick with a cold or having asthma; but doctors who make lifestyle choices that are clearly not healthy. The easiest one to spot is obesity. Would you really listen to someone who tells you to lose weight if he or she can’t seem to do the same even for health reasons?

What put the melting-icing on the crumbling-cake was this nurse who came around in the nights. She was the most discombobulated nurse I had ever seen. She would have a list of medicine and drips to administer but always forgot which one she had given and hadn't given. "Do you remember if I have given him this?" or "Do you think we should give him that?", She asks me. I became the shot-caller/doctor-on-duty anytime she was on night-shift. She would give him a drip and then later ask what drip she had given him. Like that wasn't bad enough, that was the most critical stage of my dad's condition. At that point we knew we had to leave this place. They had no idea what the hell they were doing. 

Bags got packed and we were OUT !! ✋   ...........Thank God the old man is doing a lot better now in his new place.

Saying meeting the doctors went left is an understatement. SMH 

Thanks for reading y'all......Peaceee ✌

A doctor should inspire confidence. Your appearance is part of that too.

This is definitely not a good look. Doctor or otherwise

That look on your face when the doctor walks in and she is 100 pounds overweight. Damn!

My face when the nurse asked "Do you remember if I have given him this?"

My dad and I looked at each other like this...."Crap, we've got to get the hell out of here"

Was around these doctors for so long I knew all these conversions off-head

You might be the best doctor in the world but trust you'll lose patients when you look like you carry extra buttons because your big belly keeps ripping your shirt off. 

INVIGILATOR'S VIEW:: GOD or EXAMS ?

Ask most students to describe the experience of sitting in an exam hall and 'boring', 'tensed, 'tough', 'stressful' would be the most common response a lot of the time, depending on how the exam goes. There isn't much fun in sitting silently for hours in a stuffy hall where the only sounds you hear are occasional coughs, turning of pages, and the blasting tick-tock of the exam hall clock. Now let's flip this for a second - how does it feel tasked with watching students take exam for hours? It is a whole different experience especially when you are used to being on the other side.

So they made a 'mistake' and put yours' truly on a job like that. Like that wasn't bad enough, it was a matured student distant learning class. This basically means a lot of the students are a lot older than regular college students; ages ranging from 30 - 60 years. Yeah, 60. A lot of invigilators are usually mean or have to act mean to deter students from communicating, but not me. I found the entire scene hilarious and couldn't help laughing within, and on a few occasions, cracking a smile here and there. "These people are about to be on a blog post and don't even know it", I thought.

In one of the halls I invigilated, I caught this very-pregnant woman cheating. I would guess about 40-years old and about 6-months pregnant. "Wow, only if this unborn baby knew his Mum was cheating in an exam while pregnant with him", I imagined. One day this lady is going to tell this same baby not to cheat or lie in an exam. Damn, we are all going to hell, aren't we.

You know what cracked me up the most? There was this man, probably 55+ years old whom I personally knew, trying to communicate with a mate next to him. I caught him staring at his mate's paper while his mate had aligned his work so this elderly man could see. The sad part is: the old man wore glasses and had to take off the glasses to have a good look at his mate's paper. "Dude! how do you copy from another man's paper and not have good eye-sight?". It's like doing an armed robbery and not be armed. I didn't even have to look hard to catch him cheating. Anytime I saw somebody take their glasses off from the corner of my eye, I knew 'Grand-papa Da Cheater' was at it again. I didn't want to speak out loud so I took a quick stroll pass his column. He saw me and said "Hi, Sir". I responded "Hey, hope it's going well?", He smiles and says "Yes, please". "You liar", I thought. I went passed his friend's column and quietly told him to align his papers correctly so others won't be tempted to cheat. Sorry, I still had a job to do.

I could bet almost everybody in the exam hall was a parent, and yet, 70% of them were cheating, or attempted to cheat. That cracked me up. I was watching the whole time thinking "Man, I wish I could line their kids up right now and see how they feel about mummy and daddy sneaking a peak, or throwing gang signs in an exam room in an attempt to steal". That'd be hilarious and a good TV show, if any producers are reading this. Thank me later.

People fear exam. After God, I think Exam scares the hell out of people the most. Imagine hearing the words "Start Work", taking a glance at the questions and realizing you can only solve 20% of the questions provided. You already know you've failed the paper before you even begin. The thought of re-sitting, re-studying, re-attending lectures, feeling shame, and adding more courses to subsequent courses scares the crap out of people, and at that moment, morals/religion/God/belief get thrown out the window. One time, just before exam began in the pre-exam talk where instructions are given, one invigilator jokingly said "It's a sin to cheat". Well, saying the students didn't care is an understatement. Nobody in the room gave a damn. That was probably the worst exam I invigilated.

So does the FEAR OF GOD outweigh the FEAR OF EXAM. Hmm...Who knows ?? Probably not, for most people at least, including a lot of you reading this right now 😃

Hope you enjoyed this piece.........Peace ✌✌👌

Typical Exam hall

When you know you are about to fail a paper before you even begin

Grandpapa Da Cheater doing his thing