Not Enough Soap... to shrink my manhood

This season's horoscope reads: Get your shit together!

It's been eleven months, after a four year sentence, since I packed my balls and walked away from the "Indian cultural clan", but without an option I had to pack my brown in my hand luggage. Couldn't leave without it now could I? What would life be without being discriminated and laughed at for 'T'he Indian accen'T' and the head boggle...

Don't get me wrong, like I've always said, I'm real proud to be of Indian origin minus the "Manikchandani's and Karamchandani's", of course...
FUCK YOU, BAR STOOLS WITHOUT FOOTRESTS!

It all happened one day when I was on my couch with Doritos and a Coke Zero wondering where it all went wrong. And then it dawned on me: I need to move to a different city with new people, a new job and a new boss so I could find some new material! That might spice things up a little.

In the few months’ break that I get between jobs, I could also commit to the woman deranged enough to go out with me for the longest I've ever been in a relationship. Honestly, I totally agree to the fact that living alone is nothing short of awesome. And women, well, men never did understand women. They buy shoes because they are on their feet all the time walking around stores buying shoes. Although, I've had it with friction burns on the palms of both my hands and it is no fun. I was at a point where I considered attaching a wind turbine to my wanking arm to conserve energy… because I'm smart like that.

Now, who would want to spend the rest of their lives with someone like me you say?! It's a shame, I know, if not for my physical appearance, personality and station in life, I'm probably 98% marriage material.

However, it isn't very difficult to confuse a smart girl to marry you. It's as simple as writing up a resume. Like when I once used a coat hanger to keep my car muffler from falling off, and now my resume reads "Budget conscious problem Solver". All I needed to do was exaggerate a little and stop walking around the house naked. Although I really needed this relationship to work, because I'm losing female followers and hot gay men on Twitter, she is my last shot at trying to be socially accepted.

All in all, I spent a few months out and a few months in India before I moved into the capital "planned" city of Nigeria: Abuja. The only thing planned in this city, I would later find out, are the car jackings and pick pockets. Very organised, I must say.

So I move into a company-provided home so spacious that I can cook, take a shit and answer the front door all at the same time. Unfortunately, I now have a boss who is on the same wave length as I am and I can't come up with one joke about the guy. He's all cool and composed and making sense all the time. Sigh, I miss the ex-boss with glasses so thick he could see into the future.
Moving on, a month into living in this glorious new "Planned City" located in the north of Nigeria, I get a very thoughtful Nigerian who probably figured I hadn't gotten some in months and decided to put his hands into my back pockets - which is probably the most sex I would have in the next six months.

It did cost me though - all my money in my wallet and my wallet and everything else in it. Anyway, I just didn't bother calling the police because I'm a confident adult gentleman with assets that won't quit. That and also because the police here are probably drunk out of their skulls by 7 pm.

Can we skip this part and go to the part where my rich aunt dies and leaves me a trust fund...?

Not enough soap… to wash off the Brown…

Weirdos seem to be drawn to me!

If I let my guard down and turn off my sarcasm for just a moment, I get stuck with some fucking idiot telling me his sob story just because we originate from the same country. I don't fucking care if your aunt went belly up or if you had your freaking hernia operated!

I have my own problems to deal with that are more serious - like I fall off the bed every freaking night trying to reach for the ashtray; what the fuck is that about? I fart to scare other people’s children who want me to answer their damn toy phones every interaction I have with them. I have this insane urge to piss people off so they just stay the fuck away from me....

Wait, I know.... What you need is to meet with people who give a fuck, like an AAA cult, or what we have here who I call an Annoying Association of Assholes. They are a step ahead even - a new sad bunch of nincompoops who call themselves "The Indian cultural association of Nigeria". “Really? What culture?” was my first question. 

All I've seen them do in the last few months was go door to door at 10pm in the fucking night saying, "You're Indian, it's the compulsory to be part of this association" and demand I pay a sum to be part of their unfortunate excuse for existence.  Half sleepy and just wanting to get rid of the smelly leech on my front door, I paid, not knowing that one mistake would lead to a series of emails and phone calls demanding my presence to "Vote" for an election that I didn't give two shits about. I’ll tell u what, I’ll vote!!! I’ll vote my ass off, you low life penny pincher with hardly an ounce of culture to even tie your shoelace without burping loud. Bunch of scum, I will vote you “most likely dumbass”!

With all that frustration causing a pain in my rectum, I took deep breaths and when "Voting" day came, I tried to maintain calm and lock myself inside a room so I don't lose all sanity and blend in with them, which is probably the worst thing that could happen next to the winning sperm in "Skybrawl or Something Like It" who I can guarantee is the biological creation of two members of the above mentioned clan. Two people from that group should NOT be allowed to have unprotected sex!!! It’s just bad for the universe when you idiots bring in more smelly mannerless jackasses into this world!!! 

Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against you people (if, unfortunately, you happen to stumble on my blog), I just don't get the excessive drinking and screaming and unruly behavior whilst eating pan parag and using the infamous "maa chod and behen chod" in every sentence while throwing the paper plate on the floor and trying to aim-spit the pan remains on the shoes of the person sitting next to you.
The country I come from, the India I remember, is a wonderful place with well mannered people who have a whole lot of culture and class, and you hand full lot getting thrown out of restaurants not being able to handle the quantity of liquor intake, spoil it for the rest of us all around the world!!!

And more over, I'm sorry, but tomorrow is the last Saturday of the month and I love the Nigerians for declaring it "Sanitation day", other than a Sunday. THIS is the only other day I get to sleep in later than this-is-a-weird-time-for-a-boner o’clock in the morning, the country DEMANDS it. Really. Well, not really to sleep in late, but to stay indoors and clean - if you're found on the streets any time before 10am in the morning you WOULD be arrested. Ohhh, don't I love this country... Isn't that bloody cool? 

So, NO, I'm sorry, I'm not going to be ruining my two-day hibernation by voting for your cult leader or being part of your school for Indian students! I'd rather send my spawn (god knows I'd have one only if the condom snapped and she's super fertile) to a Nigerian school instead, where the people who teach ACTUALLY know some English and can frame a sentence without a grammatical error - not just have a school open because you're a clan and you know you can make money off the stupid door knobs from your own clan!

Now that is a problem right there! It’s like, HOUSTON, forget about the whole other thing, this shit's messed up!

Not Enough Soap...To Rinse My Filthy Mouth

Ever looked at someone and think to yourself that the wheel was turning but the hamster was dead and its lifeless little body is just being tossed around?

That pretty much nails the look on the faces of people who see me everyday...

 I was 3 months in this continent when I first saw that look handed to me by my house help when I told her to 'chop' me some onions. I wondered why, at that moment, that she gave me the "look" and also wondered why I had to repeat the same thing thrice with the volume of my voice only going higher. Though in a few moments I would know, "chop" meant "eat" and you would understand the "holy titties" look on my face when I saw her try and stuff the onion into her mouth...

Since then, me being someone who loves the taste of my foot, have been making Nigerians do stupid shit on account of my "lack of local lingo knowledge"... And I admit, I do get a laugh or two out from it. Here are a few words that you might want to scream out in crowded places when you're in Nigeria if you are as fucked up in the head as I am and think that's just hilarious.

First, clearly is "Nyash" meaning buttocks, booty. So if you're doing the baby got back Nigerian version, it would go something like this: "em got round nyash I no go lie, me otha broda no deny, when em girl dey walka with small small waist,in they put em round thin in ya face"..

Then is my personal favorite "Toto",(pronounced aw toe) you know how people scream "AUTO" in India, yeah that pretty much means "VAGINA" in Nigeria.

And when you want to curse someone like me yelling out these wonderful words on the street, then you show the palm of your hand and say "shege" (pronounced SHAG-E) which pretty much means rot in hell.

If you're the 50 year old kinds that I mention in my 'not enough soap to launder my scarred adulthood' then you might want to know that "Ashawo" is Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, only not pretty but bald with a toupee, definitely a way bigger nyash and if you're the lucky kinds then one of the STD's.

Though there is one phrase that's used here like it is around the world which I don't get. I personally think it's stupid to call them "family jewels" if I can't wear them like a tiara on special occasions.

 Know these few words and add 'O' at the end of the sentence and you're golden-O.

Though I've had my rough times here in Nigeria, as you have understood in my previous posts, I think I've grown a liking towards the person I am when I'm in this country. I still hate the place though, don't get me wrong, but like I said, I like who I become when I'm here. As a wise person once made a mention of me oh so kindly, and I quote- "I feel bad for Nigeria".

Just like the anonymous fan who read my first clinically deranged writeup and still came back for the second, I too wouldn't write off Nigeria and would definitely come back for more, although for me sometimes to do something that stupid, it takes a week of 'quality' time in India to make me really appreciate coming back to this place.

On that note, I'm now left thinking that based upon the influx of new 'anonymous' followers, my sex video must have finally found it's way to YouTube...

Not Enough Soap... To Launder My Scarred Adulthood

You know that little voice we all have that keeps us from doing dumb shit? Well, mine spoke French... I had no clue what she said, but I probably tried to boink her when I hit puberty, I ain't too sure, but I think that's when she took off...

  Since then I've always said and done stupid shit and somehow (as the few unfortunate soul's who read not enough soap to cleanse my karma probably know) I found my self among the millions of low profile "kony's" of the dark land in west Africa reduced to living among migrated (or stripped naked and chased out of the country while being flogged with potatoes) grown Indian men who talk about "pakoras" in a house full of 50 year olds at a 7 year old's birthday party... And of course, I was there too...

  My question to the hosts when they barged into my house an HOUR before the "pardy" in pretext of inviting me to this emotionally scaring event was "what would I do there? Do u want me to dress up as a clown or do I already look strange enough to u people" (considering a jerk like me is normal midst u bunch of weird looking fucks) and the reply, of course was "kya?" "Humara bache ka pardy hai, saath bhaje" to which I could only shrug and nod in disappointment...

  Now, I was standing in a house that sounded like a local bar, wondering why this little dude (who I swear to Lucifer made me want to chop off my genitalia so I never create one of them)'s birthday party, have a picture of his framed and decorative lights all around it which only made someone like me, with an active imagination, think to myself "phew one down, a billion more to go".

  Walking around trying to amuse myself, I get to the make shift bar where they served an unlimited supply of cheap and probably expired liquor and hence had drunk aged balding fat men who all probably have pygophilia or boobophillia and were not ashamed to talk about it, crowding the cheap liquor stash....

 I then realized among the 40 odd people who came there I knew 2, the father of the little bugger growing a year older and the doorway that brought this creature to life or who I later referred to as the "big woman dressed in what I could only imagine was a bastardized shiny version of the Indian flag" out loud after a few beers, surrounded by people I just met...

   Yeah, I wished the french bitch didn't leave me too, she probably would have told me to shut the fuck up, I wouldn't understand her though but she would have probably kept my mind busy with her provocative dressing...

  Lesson learned, the next time I get invited to these pitiful, lame excuse to drink free cheap liquor, all in the name of a 7 year old , I'd find my self an alligator pit and jump crotch first into the alligators mouth... Not that I'm into that kinda thing sexually...

 People seriously need to start inviting 7 year olds to a 7 year old's birthday, and leave me till when they decide to do something productive, like go to Hooters and have me order "two big jugs of anything" and giggle to myself...

   On that note, this writing a blog thing is great for my sex life.. It helps me forget that I don't have one... Or like a basically blah annoying friend of mine says "u have a wilting tulip!"

Not Enough Soap.....To Cleanse My Karma

Don't you hate it when you're holding two things, and u throw away your life instead of throwing the gift wrap...


It all hit me when I found myself in Nigeria, the worst part of Africa 5 years later, doing time for getting to second base at movie theaters, the happy hours taken advantage of and all the weed smoked in Narnia instead of ummm whatever the nerds did with them books and pens and shit in school.


If you ever get the opportunity of moving to Nigeria I just have two things to say to you:
1) Don't.
2) Crawl up into a ball under the couch and die instead.

 When u choose to move to the 'Dark continent to make a livelihood,you KNOW for a fact that u've exhausted all other available options... Yes, including wearing headsets for fuck 'o clock in the morning shifts at Call Centers.

Though I must say, at that moment, Leaving India felt like a relief, moving away from noise, loud people, polluted air and being broke ass all the time... But what I didn't realize then was that I was also moving away from good looking women, great friends, amazing parties, corrupt cops and childhood AND moving into noise, loud people, polluted air and being broke ass all the time...

I was FORCED to grow up in Africa, with no one to bail my ass when I got into trouble, dried Papaya leaves sold as weed, bald women and every body trying to stifle you!


SO, being an expert at putting my foot in my mouth, the first few months trying to interact with fellow Indians in Africa was a nightmare... Piece of advice, its very awkward when u congratulate a woman on being pregnant when HE is just fat. It honestly ain't my fault though, this guy had boobs and everything... Apparently being fit and healthy isn't given too much importance by expats in this country. "U start your day with a beer and end it washing the hooker smell off you in the shower" was what a wise German once told me. Sounds fun doesn't it? Well, that's just half the story... He dint bother telling me that the beer was spiked with chloro quine  so u don't catch the Malaria bug that's in the air and practically EVERY "easy"(toupee wearing) women has an STD...

To top it all it wasn't easy joining an INDIAN company and learning how to be grammatically incorrect in every single sentence.  Now I have to live amongst indians who are the most arrogant, non cultured, loud, hindi speaking ass wipes who spend their evenings trying to barge into unlocked front doors and raid ur fridge for liquor or just lay down on the couch and watch TV saying "aree 55 inch TV badia hai yarr"  (this I just got while writing this last resort to killing boredom{thanks to Basically Blah})

Honestly, I might be exaggerating  a little,it all just might be karma kicking me in the balls for all the shit done, Its not a totally bad place, they still have trees and ..... Oh fuck it!!! This place is a hole!
I'm going to lock my self in my room now and hope this AK-47 I found lying outside my front lawn still works...

After this,  I'm pretty sure even my stalker (being the optimist jerk that I am and thinking I deserve to have one) would say to herself, 'all right, THIS is where I draw the line'.