69,68,67..........

Yes! He called me. Yes! He still thinks I'm amazing and no he hasn't proposed yet. So can you all stop stalking me about my mystery man. We have more important thaings to talk about.

That phenomal event that happens every year is slowly during nearer. Its time to empty out your piggy banks and get all excited because there are only 69 more day to go till MY BIRTHDAY. Yep people! I’m getting older. Before, the very thought of an approaching birthday used to bring me out in a cold sweat. I would worry about wrinkles (not gonna happen …supple, smooth caramel skin is still as luscious as ever), losing my hip attitude (like that’s even possible) or worse …developing a penchant for thermal underwear. But I’m starting to realise that it will probably never happen. It’s the end of October, I can see my own breath and as my mother likes to say “it isn’t the weather for fashion”. That is just soooooooooo wrong Mama. If she weren’t my Mama I would lock her in her room with only a bowl of garri and some peanuts for daring to suggest that there was a time and place for fashion. Fashion is an all year thing, rain or shine, freezing temperatures or not. Hence my attire of a gypsy skirt, long boots, little white t-shirt and a sweater vest. I’m freezing my flat but cute ass off but at least I will die from hyperthermia whilst looking fashionable.

For all of you who are also eagerly anticipating my forthcoming birthday I just wanted to give you a few tips on how to make me happy on the day and ensure that you will not spend the rest of the year in traction or worse in the room with my mother struggling over the bowl of garri and peanuts. I know a lot of you are probably thinking of getting me the gift of “Love and Friendship” for my birthday. Awww! How sweet. Lets show Mena we care by telling her, going to visit her on the day or making her something out of recycled cardboard and a pair of old underpants. People, people, people! HOW MANY TIMES DID I CALL ALL OF YOU?? OK! LISTEN AND LISTEN GOOD

1. I speak to you guys all the time. Usually when I don’t want to I might add. You calling me on my birthday is fine but I’d better be sitting on an elephant called Dumbollina in Thailand, enjoying a five star holiday paid for by you when I get the call or don’t even bother. I’d also be very careful if that’s all you’re getting me. I you might want to start getting someone else to taste your food, start your car or basically just take on your identity until Mena’s rage has calmed down.

2. Please don’t visit me on my birthday unless you are bringing gifts, food, alcohol and the entire NBA squad wearing nothing but see through thongs. I know what I am looking for when I go and visit other people on their birthdays …FOOD! I refuse to allow anyone into my home without seeing a lovely wrapped pressie in his or her hands. The said pressie will be x-rayed to make sure it’s not an empty box wrapped with recycled wrapping paper to fool me into letting them into the house. What’s ahhh!!?? I don’t think you know the kind of family and friends I’m up against. They will go to any lengths to get a free meal. True… they all probably learnt from my example but even so they have taken it to a greater level. Before Hurry up Propose chick left the country, she could successful spend a whole month eating for free by calling up unsuspecting friends and family members after work, finding out what everyone was having for dinner and then going to visit the person with the best sounding supper. SE chick, before she got hitched also used to eat for free every weekend by coming to visit me and pretending she wanted to bond. Bonding… maybe 5minutes. The rest of the weekend was spent emptying my fridge and then having the nerve to call my stew funky! So I will not be cooking for anyone come January the 7th. There will be a slice of cake and some sparkling mineral water (no tap water seeing as its my birthday) for all gift-bearing visitors.

3. Ah! I laugh. Short of you being one of my nieces, I don’t want to see anything self produced. Even being under the legal working age is no excuse any more as far as I’m concerned. All kiddies get child benefit and I know how much it is. Enough to buy me a decent gift. All gifts of £20 and under will only be accepted from CHILDREN! My niece, Ibadan J Lo Princess please tell your mummy, Ijebu Chick to stop embezzling your funds to feed her husbands Big Tasty habit (don’t ask…I promise, you don’t want to know) and divert some of it to my birthday fund. Good girl.

I’m not a greedy person. In order to make things easier for you all I am giving you the opportunity to join the United Bank of Mena (UBM) where we have a special savings scheme especially for this occasion. You have 3 options to choose from

The No Good Friend saver – whereby you deposit £1 a day till my birthday, which will give a measly £69.00 to spend on me. Obviously I am worth more than this. I will accept your gift but know that you will be in the Raso section of my celebrity Moroccan wedding.

The Buddy saver - £3 per day you will have a decent £207 to spend on my oh so happy day. This will move you up in my estimation and you will actually get to see some of the celebrity guests at my forthcoming wedding.

The Ore Miiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!! Saver - This is the account I expect all family and REAL friends to contribute a mere £10 per day in order to buy me all the designer goods I deserve. With their £690 they are immediately bumped up to my second high table, which will be behind the table, the celebrity guests and I will be sitting on. You will get to watch the celebrities eat and might even get to touch or dance with one or two of them. Naturally this will be with my permission. I don’t want you disgracing me on the day by gushing all over Tyrese’s new best friend Chingy. Have you heard my man’s new song? I knew he would make a triumphant come back. Poo! Poo! to all you haters.


Anyway, I’ve truly given you more help than you all deserve on this issue. It is now time go out into the big wide world and find me the ultimate pressie. Good Bye & Good Luck!

Ooooopppppssss!!!!!!!

I made a bit of a boo boo this morning and said something I shouldn’t have.
OK! I’m going to tell you all a little secret. Haven’t you all noticed I ain’t as cranky as I used to be? What do you mean you haven’t noticed any difference in my demeanour? I blame you all not…it’s my fault that I have dedicated 100’s of man-hours in keep you lot entertained. Anyway I shall not let you infringe on my happiness. The reason I’ve been in a good mood is that I’ve been making up for lost time in the snogging department.

Mena! Good Christian girl like you snogging a man?? Yes o! I am and I’m liking it. Nothing like a good snog to blow away the cobwebs. Anyway I ain’t divulging any names, numbers or shoe sizes. But if you really most know, Biiiiiiiiiiigggg feet. No! I haven’t been playing “Lets make a baby”. Me and my sis “Hurry up and propose chick” devised a clever method of figuring these things out. I obviously can’t share any details with you because all the male readers of this blog will be forced to resort to drastic measures in order to make themselves look extra large. Don’t worry fella’s…it ain’t what you got, it’s what you do with it. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA… So sure a guy said that. Please don't clog up my inbox with complaints about my attitude to soldier sizes. Anyone thats knows me knows that that ain't important. Wow! Is that my nose getting longer?

Anyway I’m telling you all this in confidence. My mother must not hear that I’m even in regular contact with a man let alone snogging him. She has the local printing offices number on speed dial. Any sign of a relationship and she'll have my picture printed and stamped on bucket for mass distribution before you can say “Wedding”. So it’s all Hush! Hush!

He’s nice, he’s sweet, and he says all the right things unless he’s trying to be a smart ass and then feels the need to quote stuff to me in Yoruba (Hey! I didn’t say he was perfect). Bottom line is I like him and I think he likes me. That was till this morning, when just as I was about to hang up he said “bye” and blew me a kiss (aw shucks…ain’t that just dandy) and I replied “Bye! Love you too”. 2 seconds after I said it, my heart literally stopped beating and I started to hyperventilate. What the hell had I been thinking? Its been what? 3 weeks and I uttered the “L” word. The funny thing is I ain’t even feeling the “L” word at the moment. I like him yeah but this is me…I don’t get excited about anything until I’m wearing a ring and I have him chained up in the basement so he can’t escape. I just don’t know where it came from.

Anyway I immediately back tracked and said

“Sorry didn’t mean to say that.”
“You love me?” he replies, laughing uncontrollably
“No! I just said I didn’t mean say that”
“You wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it”

What planet is this guy from? I’m a woman I’m programmed to say things I don’t mean. Anyway at this stage I feel stupid and get all defensive.

“I was thinking of someone else,” I said
“Really”?
“Yeah really”
“Who”?
“Sorry”?
“Sorry yourself (told you he wasn’t perfect)…who were you thinking of?”
“My brother.”
Great Mena! Now he probably thinks you have an incestuous relationship with your brother and that your parents are actually first cousins.

“You tell your brother you love him when you hang up”? He asks…I think I can detect panic.
“Yep! We’re close like that”.
“All right then…if you say so”.

Anyway he says “Bye” still sniggering to himself and I go the ladies to see if I can flush myself down the loo. I give up people! What’s a girl got to do to keep a guy around here? He always calls me during his lunch break. I have 15 more minutes of waiting to see if I’ve managed to scare him off. Keep your fingers crossed!!!!!!!!!!

Would you like me to call you Sir too?

A guy I’ve been talking to for a little while sent me something today with the heading
“Read and Learn”. It’s apparently an actual extract from a sex education school textbook for girls, printed in the early 60’s in the UK & written by a woman!

“When retiring to the bedroom, prepare yourself for bed as promptly as possible. Whilst feminine hygiene is of the utmost importance, your tired husband does not want to queue for the bathroom, as he would have to do for his train. But remember to look your best when going to bed.

Try to achieve a look that is welcoming without being obvious. If you need to apply face cream or hair rollers wait until he is asleep as this can be shocking to a man last thing at night. When it comes to the possibility of intimate relations with your husband it is important to remember your marriage vows and in particular your commitment to obey him.

If he feels that he needs to sleep immediately afterwards, then so be it. In all things be led by your husband’s wishes; do not pressure him in any way to stimulate intimacy. Should your husband suggest congress then agree humbly, all the while being mindful that a mans satisfaction is more important than a woman’s. When he reaches his moment of fulfilment, a small moan from yourself is encouraging to him and quite sufficient to indicate any enjoyment that you may have had.

Should your husband suggest any of the more unusual practices, be obedient and uncomplaining but register any reluctance by remaining silent. It is likely that your husband will fall promptly asleep so adjust your clothing, freshen up and apply your nighttime face and hair care products. You may then set the alarm so that you can arise shortly before him in the morning. This will enable to have his morning cup of tea ready when he wakes.

Well naturally! After I finished rolling around under my desk with laughter and disbelief. I started thinking…this guy was kidding right? He wasn’t trying to send me subtle subliminal messages about what he would be expecting in the near future was he? He’d seemed all right so far …you know; He calls, he’s sweet, never forgets his wallet at home and knows where to put his lips for those all important goodnight kisses but this e-mail might be a sign. My mother always says watch what a guy finds funny because it tells you how their mind works. According to that train of thought, I’m spending a lot of time with a guy who expects me to sleep in full MAC foundation, no head scarf (like he’s going give me back my money when my afro kinky starts looking like a hedge) and not complain when he introduces a variety of garden vegetables into our after hours activities. Hmmm.. Maybe I was tad hasty in buying that copy Bride magazine then. But really fellas you all aren’t still thinking like that are you?

It’s not fair! How come everything is always down to us …the fairer and more intelligent of the species? I’m referring to us women just in case any of you male readers were deluding yourselves. I know we messed up at the beginning of time with the whole apple-eating incident but it’s about time you guys took some share of the blame. After all its not like we mashed up the apple and called it Pate. You all knew what you were doing but it seems we women are meant to keep sucking up to you guys forever.

"What’s she going on about now?” says the unattractive guy with no girlfriend in the corner. What I’m going on about now is we do everything for you guys. We have to carry you around for 9 months. Endure untold pain to shove your ungrateful behinds into the world. Nurse and look after you till we are legally able to kick you out of our home. Any of us who aren’t related to you have to cope with dating you, sleeping with you, making you feel like a man (even though some of you really deserve a nappy and a rattle) and when you’ve finally worn us out we agree to marry you and start the cycle all over again by having your kids.

“Well if you feel that way you can always start batting for the other side”. Believe me…if I could I would. I would embrace girly love, artificial insemination for when my biological clock starts ticking and a lifetime partnership with someone who knows the difference between foreplay and sticking their tongue in my ear for 2 minutes. Yep! I don’t think I would be missing much…after all where’s the fun in dating someone who is programmed to think that most of the work needed to keep a relationship going is down to me.

“That’s not fair” some of you say. But lets look at it this way... if any of you guys have done the following please send me an e-mail immediately so I can put you in the Blokey Hall of Fame

1) Bought kinky underwear to get your woman all excited?
2) Made lunch when all her girlfriends popped round to visit to watch the Final of American next top model (our equivalent of match of the day)?
3) Cut your hair like Tyrese, Denzel or JJ from Good times when your girl said she thought they were hot?
4) Gone an imaginary food diet when she pointed out that your beer belly was getting a tad big?
5) Agreed to get out of bed at midnight to pound yam for your in-law who turned up unexpectedly?

That’s just a few from the endless things we women do to keep you guys happy and the relationship on an even keel. So if any of you are expecting the 60’s to make a come back in the form of total submissiveness…please send me £3 zillion pounds for the time machine which is currently under construction my shed. Jokers!

Breaking up ain't that hard to do.

I know I know…I just haven’t been feeling inspired lately. For some odd reason there is actually nothing going on in my life. OK I lie …there is but I just ain’t ready to share. Actually that’s another lie…I do want to share but I’m learning the art of self-control. No more divulging intimate secrets of my love life to members of the general public. This why I am still single. You guys misrepresent everything I say and then I sound like a pyscho. So we’ll just have to talk about something else. Lets see…politics? Nah! You guys just aren’t clued up in that direction are you. The current trend for 80’s fashion in the year 2006? Oh no I’ve got a good one…convenience products or services in the 21st century.

Ok! I’m all up for modern day living and making life as convenient as possible. I have my moments when, if I could find someone and pay him or her to carry me on his or her back to the bus stop just to shave 3 minutes off my journey time I would. I’ve been tempted to buy crust less bread from the supermarket just so I don’t have to do it myself and believe me should they ever event the self brushing toothbrush I’ll be first on the queue. But there are certain pleasures in life that one shouldn’t relinquish to someone else to do for a fee. Amongst the top 3 are eating, sex and breaking up with annoying cretins.But a company in Belgium obviously doesn’t think so. They have just started the worlds first ever break up agency. For a fee, they will call up your unsuspecting bloke/girlfriend and tell them that you will no longer be requiring their services. Where, I ask you is the fun in that?

Breaking up with someone is hard but gosh it’s the price you pay for agreeing to go out with a self-certified lunatic in the first place. You sure as hell didn’t ask anyone to go on the first date for you, have your first snog, sleep with him/her or wear the sexy nurses uniform you used to spice up the cold winter nights (yes bunny…there are many costumes out there…our brother cannot live by furry love alone) So why should you get off easy when everything turns sour?

Digressing slightly, I have noticed a gap in the market for kinky costumes for women who want to tantalise their hot-blooded Niger men. So I have decided to set up my own agency “Local Love.com”. Yes peeps! I am setting up my own business... oh won't Mama and Papa be proud. I shall be supplying costume's to tantalise the African man’s vivid fantasy. I see my top three sellers being:

The Market Seller – An outfit consisting of a wrapper, un matching blouse, scarf, slippers and metal tray. Oranges, Guguru and epa or ice water can be supplied at an extra cost.

The House Girl - Also comes with a wrapper, oversized t-shirt, shuku wig, slippers and broom. Stick on tribal marks can be provided at an extra cost.

Federal Government College Sweetheart - Check pinafore in a variety of primary colours, thick rubber soled Bata sandal, white knee socks and unflattering school beret. Oxford maths set and graph paper optional. For those extra kinky ones amongst you I can supply a pot bellied father to stroll in every time you are about to get some action for that truly authentic feeling.

Any interested parties should contact me privately for hire charges and delivery times. No bunny…No family discount.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.
Breaking up can be painless when handled in the right way. Here is my easy guide to Dumping and getting dumped without any drama. I ain’t even charging you guys so I would appreciate a little gratitude.

1) As the Dumper, please feel free to point out all nasty, filthy habits you have in order to make the Dumpee feel better. After all you’ve probably found yourself a hotter partner already, so no need to point out to the Dumpee that the reason they are getting dumped is that their little soldier is a very little soldier and their feet smell of cheese. You can laugh over this with your girlfriends later.

2)If the Dumpee insists that they can live with your little foibles then feel free to bring up the issue of marriage, children, a proper 9-5 job (No! singing in a band isn’t a job unless they have a record deal and are number one in the charts…and even this does not apply if said band is based in Niger) depending on which one the Dumpee is allergic to. This should have the Dumpee feeling cornered and they might be willing to discontinue the conversation in order to escape discussing the forbidden topic.

3)Should you be cohabiting with the intended Dumpee, then at least a week of poor personal hygiene, running up a huge phone bill talking to your mama about the latest lace, refusing sexual favours (not sure they’ll want any if you’re keeping up the lack of personal hygiene) and starting every sentence with “my ex used to…” should do the trick.

4)If all that fails then the usual not returning calls might send the message home.

5)Or you can just send them a text, e-mail, fax or postcard saying” Can’t you take a hint Einstein? You’re dumped!!”

6)Naturally the Dumpee will be hurt but they should not resort to burning the Dumpers car, flat or Italian shoe collection. You will only get arrested and become someone’s plaything in jail.

7)The Dumpee should maintain a dignified front when they see or speak to the Dumper about splitting their Boney M record collection or picking up their spare underwear from the love nest.

8)By all means, the Dumpee can spend all other times crying their eyes out and listening to “End of the road “ by Boyz to men.

9)The Dumpee should also take comfort in the fact that the heart breaking ordeal will help them lose weight and one day soon they will meet someone who appreciates a smaller soldier and the smell of cheese in the morning.

10)Try not to be too horrible either as a Dumpee or Dumper, as karma might just catch up with you in your next relationship.

Having been on both sides of the coin best piece of advice I can really give is don't give up. Yeah it hurts like hell now but believe me it does get better.