It may be a blinddate but I ain't blind

Wow! That’s what you are all thinking. 3 additions to the blog in one week. Go Mena! Go Mena! I know…I’m way to good to you guys. Please feel free to show your appreciation in monetary terms. I can hear you stingy ones out there grumbling (Ijebu Chick, I know you are not called that because of the geography of your birth. Please extract at least £20 from the money you hide in your knicker drawer) about my constant demands for funds. You can’t blame me for wanting to continue to live my lavish lifestyle. Rocking fake Gucci, Fendi and Prada ain’t cheap you know. Anyway don’t get used to this constant blogging. I have J O B and don’t have time for all this bonding. The only reason this week has been so bloggy is because the curse is upon me. So everything annoys me and hence I have more to moan about.

I work in an office with 5 other women and believe me for one week in every month we all get verrrrrrry touchy. All the men huddle in a little corner of the office in fear for their lives. Yesterday was a particularly bad day for the men in the office because one of the girls went on a crappy blind date. He was awful, she told him in a nice way he was awful. Yes fella’s! When a girl tells you “I like you but I just want to be friends”. She really means “God forbid I should let anyone I know see me with you in public, let alone think we are dating”. You would think he would take rejection like a REAL MAN and move on but we all now that there is no such thing as a real man. They are a myth created a long time ago by Loser Dudes to ensure that we poor girls keep dating them in the hope that we might eventually run into one. Anyway not being a REAL MAN he proceeded to demand £39 from her as payment for the food and entertainment during the date. All in all it wasn’t a good day to be a man.

Have any of you ever been on a blind date??? Don’t be shy…just stick does hands up and be counted. Chances are we’ve all been there and done that. In this day and age there is no shame in it. The shame comes from having to narrate the horror of what happened to you to your friends afterward because apart from the one instance of IT Dude and Ijebu Chick don’t know of any successful blind dates. Actually did I ever tell you their story??? Well it was like this….

Once upon a time there was a girl called Ijebu Chick who lived in a ghetto castle in London with SE chick. After many a moon of being chased and dating raso princes who drove Toyotas and considered singing Ololufemi songs as the height of romance. Ijebu Chick grew bored. Sometimes she wondered, “Could there be more to life and love? Surely there must be something better than being fed pounded yam by your man? Or going for strolls round Peckham market” One day whilst sitting in her ghetto castle watching Sura the Tailor or was it Samanja? It escapes me…a friend called her up and asked her over for dinner. “I would like you to meet a friend of my husbands” she said. Ijebu chick pondered and then thought what the hell! She turned up and was immediately wowed by the non rasoness. He could say a whole sentence in English without breaking into Yoruba. Several scoops of Hagendaz later (and you all think I’m a cheap date. Might I point out that a meal at Nando’s is nothing less than £5.99, whilst Hagendaz is like 3 quid. I rest my case) the girl was a goner. So they fell in love, got married and had a little Ibadan/Ijebu princess and lived happily ever after. Awwwwwwwww…. That’s the way we all hope blind dates will end but in reality it’s a whole different story.

I am going to be unselfish and use myself as an example for the what and what not to expect from a blind date. Woe betide anyone who feels the need to use these to insult or ridicule me in future.

Do consider the person setting you up on the blind date before saying yes.
Someone at work once set me up on a blind date. She said her boyfriend had a really hot friend that I just had to meet. Being single, bored and desperate I thought what the hell. What I actually should have been thinking was… Wasn’t this the girl that told me last week that she thought Shabba Ranks was hot??? And whose boyfriends sole ambition in life was to see how much jewellery he could fit round neck before he collapsed under the sheer weight of them. So what on earth could this guy possibly look like if that was the scale she was working from? I never actually found out as during the date I was constantly being blinded by the glare from the light hitting the 24-carat grill in his mouth.

Do expect to pay for your meal and his
Guys I’m not difficult. I know I sound evil most of the time but that’s just a façade I put on. Me…I’m all sweetness and light until some guy offers to take me out to dinner and then expects me to pay. I’m all down for equal opportunity dating but If you CALL ME, ASK ME out to dinner and YOU PICK THE RESTAURANT…please don’t expect my visa card to make an appearance at any point during the night. Once went on a blind date with a guy who instructed me not to eat anything as he was taking me out for a slap up meal. You know what I’m like when it comes to food, especially free food. I was all excited. He came to pick me up and said he needed to stop to get some cash. Lo and behold his card was refused at every major cash point in London. At this stage I was sooo hungry and fed up I was quite happy to gnaw my own feet off just so I wouldn’t pass out. We ended up at Pizza Hut where I had to pay for dinner and then the stupid pot bellied dwarf had the nerve tell me not to put mushrooms on the pizza because he didn’t like them. Naturally I ordered extra mushrooms and took great joy in watching him pick them off. To say the least I didn’t bother taking his calls after that.

Don’t expect a happy ending
I’ve been on dates where you actually have a nice time. You actually think this might be going somewhere and then the glow of the date wears off. Ladies! We aren’t the only ones who make an effort for the first date. Guys have been known to have a bath, comb their hair and even floss to make a good impression. They will appear charming, witty and on the ball during dinner. Hold open your door as you enter their borrowed from a mate to impress car. Buy you popcorn to share in the cinema. Give you a peck on the chick when they drop you off at home. You call your girlfriends and talk till 3am planning your wedding because as far as you are concerned this is it. The next date or 2 though are totally different. At this stage they’ve probably heard from the person who set you guys up that you like them. They figure if they’ve got you to date number three you are a goner; So no need to pretend. Your next date goes like this:

1) Instead of picking you up in his mates Beemer he tells you to meet him at the movies instead.



2) He tells you he has given up his job in the city to find his true calling. So no dinner this time as his giro cheque hasn’t cleared.

3) He tells you buy yourself a tub of popcorn, as the one he just bought won’t be enough for both of you. He also throws in the fact that you managed to eat more popcorn than him the last time you shared.

4) You almost crack your skull open when the door you thought he was going to hold open for you whacks you in the face.

5) He does see you to your front door though more because you can’t walk straight after the door incident and he figures after 3 dates he deserves the prize of seeing you without any clothes on.

I could go on and on but to be honest it would just make life harder for the guys at work as all this constant reminiscing is bound to put me in a man-hating mood. So people live and learn. Enjoy your blind date. If it turns out crappy, just move on and laugh about it and if it turns out to be a fairy tale in the making…don’t tell me about it. I’ll only become more bitter and twisted.

Sign here

Just thought of another reason why I hate Mondays.

I slave all day at work and today is the one day I have nothing to look forward to when I get home. There is absolutely nothing to watch on telly. As I occasionally remember to pay my monthly TV license fee I think I am allowed to complain about the utter rubbish I am being forced to watch on a regular basis. Yes! I could read a book but my imagination has now been totally corrupted by my constant need for Tyrese. I see him everywhere. You try reading Little Women with Tyrese as ALL the characters. Doesn’t have the same effect. It actually gets creepy after awhile. A full skirt and bowed hat are so not a look he should be experimenting with.

Anyway I don’t want to read a book. I want to be a couch potato. Scoffing down my dinner whilst being thrilled by the joy of modern day programming. I tell you, if I didn’t have Dr.Who saving the world every Saturday night I might actually be forced to leave my house and do something sociable like visit someone. Yuck! Doesn’t even bear thinking about. I shall start a petition to bring back decent programmes. Classics such as Hawaii 5 O, Kojak and my all time favourite SPACE 1999(I secretly used to pretend I was Mia. Turn into monster and eat my younger brother when he was p…… me off). I can hardly wait. I expect all of you to agree with me and sign my petition. You cannot enjoy my ranting and then expect me to go home and suffer the torment of Big Brother, X factor and assorted crappy channel 5 documentaries.

Cable is just as bad…especially now that they have refused to reconnect me to the Naughty Housewife channel. Really! I think I was totally justified in not paying for Tyrese does Texas. I fell asleep 5 minutes into the film (was exhausted from watching Tyrese does Las Vegas and Tyrese sings the blues naked). So technically didn’t watch it and so don’t see why I have to pay for it. I’m starting to weaken though. I need my Tyrese fix and seeing as he hasn’t got his lazy ass up to record another album; MTV doesn’t show any videos of him. So I can’t get any freebie looks at him. That’s it I’ve made up mind. I will be starting another petition to get my man Tyrese back into the studio or at least making another unwatchable “Too fast to Furious” movie. THERE WILL BE NO DEBATES ON THIS ISSUE! YOU WILL ALL SIGN.

You will also be campaigning for a channel dedicated only to Law and Order and CSI 24 hours a day, 7days a week. I love those programmes. Anything that shows you how to dispose of people and not get caught gets my vote. I have a lot of people on my “You’re lucky I don’t want to go to prison” list. Number 1 being that annoying woman on the bus. She’s there every single day on my way home from work. She spreads all her stuff over the adjoining seat and then makes you wait 5 minutes before she moves her stuff, grumbling all the time she’s doing it . Once you’ve finally managed to get your self settled on the few inches she’s generously given you (seeing as she obviously owns the entire transport network) she then proceeds to whip out her phone and have the loudest conversation in the world. I’m just waiting for them to show an episode where a woman is beaten to death with her mobile phone and then chucked through the window of the top deck of a moving bus. That is day I wait for in joyful anticipation.

But really, coming from a country whereby interrogation involves being beaten half to death with a baton and where most confessions start with the words “ I confess officer now please stop stepping on my privates, get your Alsatian to stop gnawing on my toes and please release my 96 year old mother and her entire village from the holding cell”… I am constantly fascinated by all the technology that goes into finding out who did what to whom. Don’t get me wrong…I’m not dissing my beloved country but people lets be real. Raise up your hands anyone who has ever bothered reporting a crime to the police in Nigeria. What would be the point? Not sure they even bother teaching forensics at Police College these days. Do we still have Police College?? Hmmmm…I’m depressed now. My dreams of one day becoming Niger’s top criminologist have now turned to dust. Sob!

I have nothing to look forward to tonight and I might be forced to call unsuitable men due to sheer boredom. Speaking of which Hmmm Dude resurfaced again last week after I banished him from Mena world for being an annoying twerp. You would think he would be grovelling and sobbing for forgiveness but being a man he just calls and wants to start gisting like I spoke to him yesterday instead of 6 months ago. Not falling for that trick. He either gets his grovelling groove on or he can go back to having pointless conversations with girls that don’t have my intellectual appeal.

Anyway I actually haven’t done any work today. Payday is fast approaching and I refuse to suffer the indignity of buying Asda’s own brand toilet paper next week because I had my pay docked for entertaining you guys. So goodbye and good riddance.

Once upon a time.....

Noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!! Please not another Monday. I so don’t think I can handle another one, especially not after the weekend I just had. Contrary to what you might all be thinking I’m not about to launch into some tale of woe. I’ll do that later. First I just want to tell you all that Bunny go go licious has finally got her man. Yep! That’s right the 5 year romantic saga of the girl with the bunny pants and the guy with the pristine finger nails has finally reached the end of another chapter. On the 19th of August 2006 She finally said “I do” to Just So Dude and now they are going to ride off in the sunset and make little bunnies and dudes. Sniff! I love a happy ending.

It was a lovely day. She looked lovely, he looked lovely and naturally I looked amazing. It just felt really nice to be part of something so special. I think sometimes going to weddings when you hardly know the people involved; you forget what the whole things about. You’re more interested in what the bride is wearing and who is sooooo not looking right in their “its way too tight but you were £2.50 on sale at Karen Millen dress.” By the way …excuse me whilst I digress for a moment… I might be mistaken but aren’t we in the year 2006?? That’s what I thought so why do some brides still insist on wearing…God I can’t even bring myself to say it…gloves??

I read Ijebu Chicks vast Ovation collection (I know! She is just so rass. I only read them so I can actually have a conversation with her. I am so thoughtful) and I don’t get why all these women are wearing gloves. Are they cold? Did they forget to get a manicure before their big day? It just doesn’t work ladies. It ruins your look and how the hell are you supposed to keep a firm grip on your groom if you are wearing slippery satin gloves? You need flesh-to-flesh contact. That way when it gets to the vow stage and you detect any sweat on his palms. You know to hold on tight and give the male members of your family the signal to barricade the doors against any escape attempts. So please no gloves. Especially not those lacy fingerless ones…you ain’t Madonna and even she doesn’t wear them anymore. Hurry up and propose chick let this be a warning to you. I don’t care if Market boy has a lacy hand apparel fetish. You will not be allowed to disgrace the family by wearing such on the big day. Keep your kinky get up for the boudoir.

I am glad to say that Bunny go go licious did the sensible thing and stayed away from gloves. Good thing too as I wouldn’t have wanted to ruin her big day by wrestling her to ground at the alter and pulling them off. Might also have had to give her a few quick slaps just to make sure she realised the severity of her crime against fashion. Nah! I lie. The slapping would really just be for my benefit. Nothing like a good slapping to relieve tension.

Anyway as I was saying before I got sidetracked …when you see 2 people you’ve known for so long,who you actually care about, stand up there and say they are ready and willing to deal with the future together…it puts a whole new spin on a wedding. I loved it and I know they are just going to be soooo happy together. Especially Bunny as she now has me as a sister in law. I will be there to dish out awesome advice on all aspects of marriage. My specialties being how to show the PROPER RESPECT to your sister in-law. How to prepare gourmet meals for your sister in-law and the most important one, How to ensure your sister in-law is happy at all times. She will need to start lessons soon as is she already slacking in her duties. I have not even had a good morning Aunty sister in-law phone call today not to mention a hand delivered breakfast of an Akara sandwich (Akara between 2 slices of white bread buttered with onions and tomatoes delicately sliced. Yum! Yum!) and a mug of Olvatine with 2 sugars. I will be holding a family meeting if this problem has not been rectified by tomorrow morning.

All this university girls sef. They think they are too good to wake up early in the morning to feed their family members. I blame the boy. I told them all they needed was a girl that could say “yes”, “Thank you” and “I’m in the mood”. But would they listen? Of course not. They wanted girls that could discuss the political climate in Timbuktu. Just selfish if you ask me. Its not like their wives belong to just them. They belong to the WHOLE family. But seeing as they have now been spoilt by being allowed to discuss things other than what they are making for dinner and what colour underwear they have on, I just don’t get any respect. Yep! Will definitely be holding a family meeting.

I’m sure the women libbers are out in force to scold me for having such negative views on my sister in-laws. As Ijebu chick likes to say “ Sebi you too will marry” Err… yeah! I will to a billionaire only child whose parents are also only children and live permanently in a secluded island in the Bahamas. So will not have to deal with Akara sandwich runs before I head off to work in the morning. Hahahaha! I’m so clever.

Look its not like they both didn’t meet me before the decided to say yes. They had their chance to escape but they chose to stay, as I am obviously irresistable. So let this be a lesson to you single ladies out there. The most important thing in your future hubby is not his looks, conversation, size of his bank balance or other physical appendages. It is the saneness of his family.

You’re probably thinking if I managed to fool Bunny, Ijebu chick and Market boy (yep he’s still around and unaware of the terrors that await him) with my level of insanity. Then what hope is there for you poor girls? Well the long and short of it is there isn’t any. Crappy, annoying and mentally deranged in-laws are part and parcel of the whole marriage drama. There’s nothing you can do to change them so the best thing to do is just go with the flow and remind yourself constantly who and what you’re accepting them for.

Tomorrow when I wake Bunny up at 5.30am to make sure she gets my Akara sandwich to me piping hot. She will look into the face of her happily snoring hubby, refrain from cursing me in Yoruba and get up to wash the beans. Ahhh! Another happy ending.

M is for Mena

Yeah! Yeah! I know. I 've been neglecting my blog but I have a perfectly good explanation. Which I would be quite happy to divulge to you all for the bargain basement price of £69.99(the exact sum of my cable bill this month if Ntl's claim that I ordered "Tyrese does Dallas" on the Naughty Housewife’s channel is true but that’s another story). Anyway I have returned. My head hung in shame at the thought that you lot have had no where to go and read intellectual ramblings for such a long time but its alright I am back.

I'm meant to be going to a baby shower tomorrow. Sounds like fun you might think but it won't be for me. My parents (Yes! I have parents. I'm not the spawn of someone’s insane imagination as some of you like to think) will be arriving in a few weeks. My parent are of the old school, the one where the learnt that fat ass women don't get married. So to spare myself the “Why hasn't your big fat ass found a man yet?” speech, I have gone on a liquid diet. No not the alcoholic kind, even though I might give that a try if this fails. I am allowed to drink 3 nasty tasting milkshakes a day, loads of water and that’s it. If I happen to get hungry in between, I’ll have to breathe a little harder and hope the extra oxygen I’m inhaling will fill me up. “Why Mena?” You all say. Your sexy Nubian curves and ample love handles must be a thing of beauty. I SO AGREE!!! But the world is a fickle place and so I must bow to mounting pressure and lose at least one love handle.

Anyway fella's this would be a good time to ask me out on a date. Think about it...a girl that brings her own food on a date. You ain’t gonna find that anywhere else. I will give the phrase 'Cheap date' a whole new meaning. All interested parties please send a poster size picture of yourself in your tightest underwear, holding your most recent bank statement and a signed affidavit stating you don't have a girlfriend, sex buddy, baby mama or wifey.

Anyway back to the baby shower. I can't eat and so don't really see the point of going. I will be forced to and oh and ah over a round, sticky out belly. I can do that home with my belly whilst balancing a bowl of chips on it and watching 'Law and Order'. I will have to watch other people eat and that’s just torture. But worse than that is the games. They drive me insane, like the one Ijebu chick sent me today. You basically have the letters of the alphabet and you have to write down baby stuff related to the letters. Obviously people always do the nice stuff like N for nappies. Sod that... I say tell the woman the truth about what she's letting her self in for. Its not all Johnson baby ads you know. So here is my:


A – Z OF THINGS RELATING TO BABY.

A
Anger management classes so you don’t strangle your husband for putting the diaper on the wrong way round for the 700th time.

B
Boring stories numerous other new mums will feel the need to tell you about their apparent horrific labour. Like you care!!!!! No pain can equal what you are about to go through. Have they seen the size of heads in your husband’s family??? B is also for baby booties, bibs and Breast pads.

C
Cot, Cuddly toy and Condensed milk. Don’t you just wish babies could drink the stuff? They can make them in beer style cans and the first thing you would teach your child was how to hold a can. Back off sisters!!!! I thought of it first and will be contacting Cow&Gate in the morning to dicuss my lucrative contract.

D
Diaphragm. If the damned thing worked we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. The male member in this relationship is about to be in charge of birth control. V for vasectomy anyone?

E
Earplugs for whoever is not on night baby feeding duties.

F
Food. You’ve been eating for 2 for 9 months and you’ve got to keep eating to breast feed it for another year. Will this destruction of my once hot body never stop?

G
Gym to get mama back in shape so papa can find her hot again, make another baby AND RUIN EVERY SINGLE THING SHE WORKED HER BUTT OFF IN THE GYM FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE!

H
Baby harness and haemorrhoids. A particular joy associated with childbirth. Feel free to look up this painful condition in the medical dictionary.

I
Ignoring your husbands attempt to poke you in the back with his little soldier when you’ve only just managed to drift off to sleep for the first time in 2 days.

J
Juggling looking after the baby and cooking fresh stew for your husband that doesn’t eat 2-day-old stew.

K
Keeping your village mother in law and her local herbal cream away from your babies heat rash.

L
Licking baby food off your fingers and suddenly realising this is why you still look pregnant 6 months after having the baby.

M
Mother and baby classes so you can meet other frumpy, frustrated and fat mama’s like yourself.

N
Night feeds & Nappies

O
Oranges to put in your bra and pretend your boobs are still nice and perky even though they now look like patties and reach your toes.

P
Pretending you can still fit into your pre pregnancy jeans and passing out in Asda whilst buying nappies because they’ve cut circulation to all major arteries.

Q
Quiet! What you say to everyone within a 2-mile radius of your sleeping child. You wake the baby. You die.

R
Rejecting all evil, conk sounding names supplied by unknown village relatives.

S
Sleep. You want it, You need it but you ain’t getting it.

T
Time! What the hell is that?? You haven’t got time to do anything but bathe, change and feed the baby about 10 times a day.

U
Underwear! No more sexy La senza for you. Its mother care boulder holders all the way.

V
Vaseline. No longer the magic ingredient for you and daddy use to stay up ALL NIGHT LONG.

X
X-rated films. Buy a years supply for hubby because it will probably take that long before you let any traffic go downtown again.

Y
Yawn! You’ll be doing a lot of that. Especially when hubby tells you look verrrrrrrrryyyyy sexxxxy in your breast milk stained grandma Mo nightgown. Sorry mate ain’t happening tonight. Might want to have the V for vasectomy conversation again.

Z
ZZZzzzzzzzz…Not so much of that though.


I have had my say and you don't have to like it but you all know its true. Now excuse me while I go take some deep breaths before I die of hunger.

Why are you here? Its the weekend.

It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday!

No you are not mistaken. I do intend to spend my entire blog time praising good ol Friday. Don’t bother sending in any complaints. I said I would write everyday but didn’t actually specify what I would be writing about or that anything I wrote would be enjoyable or make sense. So save your complaints for when you all decide to start paying me for my life story. The only reason I haven’t sold my story to the Sun to turn into a Sunday column is because I am trying to spare my parents the shame of having an unstable child, should some snooping journalist ever discover my identity.

So people, enjoy these freebies whilst you can still get them. The moment I get married and change my last name (shaming my husbands family name ain’t so bad), no more freebies for you lot. You will have to pay £29.99 for the hardback edition of my Autobiography (won’t bother doing a paperback version, so all you stingo family members better cough up). I will be quite happy to sign all copies bought by my former blog readers for an additional fee of £49.99 including Postage and packing. I know some of you might think that is a bit steep (cheapskates) but think how much these signed copies will be worth when I win the Booker prize.

Ok! Tired of talking to you all now. I’m off to put on my dancing shoes and hit the town cause It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday!

Look stop complaining you lot. Your mates are out painting the town red and you saddos are sitting at home reading some hot babes blog. Go out! Get a life! Do something. Now that I’ve imparted my daily word of wisdom. I’m off to enjoy the fact that Its Friday! Its Friday! Its Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday! It’s Friday!

Oh! do you guys like the new look? Got bored with all the black seeing as its now practically summer. OK! I mean it now...all of you go and have a great weekend and I'll see you guys on Monday.

Money for hand...........

Operation Cave girl is now in full swing. Got a whole hours extra sleep today seeing as I didn't have to do mundane things like brush my teeth, hair or put on make up. So I feel really alert and bubbly. Even got a whole row of seats to myself on the tube. It was actually kinda packed but I guess everyone was feeling perky like me and didn't feel the need to sit down. Even work has been really relaxing. People seem to be reluctant to come over to give me work to do, but you don't hear me complaining. I will keep you all updated on my quest for natural beauty.

I was having a conversation with my girls today. Just putting the finishing touches to a girly night we’ve got planned when the Ijebu sisters (Ijebu Chick and SE Chick) tried to wriggle out of paying for their tickets. This is usually my territory. I try to use the single and depressed routine to get out of paying for stuff as often as possible. Shed a few tears, emphasise the fact that they are all loved up and just watch those wallets come flying out. I think its only logical that since all the others have live entertainment at home, I should be able to spend my meagre salary on buying myself as much entertainment as I can get. It worked all right for a while, but I think they’ve all figured out that I’ve probably bought myself enough entertainment to last a lifetime. So now when I start sobbing they just hand over some tissues and a banana.

Anyway, rather than drop kick and beat the ijebu sisters into submission… I suggested they convince their hubbies to pay for their tickets by being a tad creative in the bedroom department. Ijebu chick protested as always, but we all know she will spend the next couple of hours (when she is meant to be working) looking for an on line Karma Sutra manual. And when she gets home the cardboard box where she keeps the good underwear will come down from the top of the cupboard, pepper soup (Her “ Tonight’s the night “ weapon of choice) will be made and the rest as they say is “History”.

SE Chick, having only just rediscovered the joys of men, couldn’t even be bothered to pretend. She immediately stopped responding to e-mails and I have a funny feeling she is now on a bus heading back home to earn her money.

But it got me thinking …maybe that old adage is true. Maybe we are all ladies everywhere else and whores in the bedroom. Cause ladies lets be honest we all use the old ooohhhing and ahhhhing to get what we want sometimes or should I say all the time. You know how it is:

We have make up sex when we piss them off or even when they piss us off but we can’t be bothered to cope with their sulking for the next 3 weeks.

We have I saw the most gorgeous top yesterday but I’m broke sex.

We have there’s no way in hell you are going to a party with that womanising friend of yours sex. You know the kind of sex that has him so knackered he can’t remember his name let alone how to put on his trousers on to leave the house.

If theres a problem, we’ve got a position for it. But the question is, is it really fair? No offence brothers but we all know your brains are down there, so are we taking undue advantage by manipulating you with our feminine wiles? Cause as a woman, you piss me off its going to take a whole lot more than nibbling my ear to make things up. I’m talking constant grovelling and a Tiffany box. After and only after I have the little blue box in my hand, will stroking and ear nibbling be considered a decent form of apology.

Anyway, maybe I shouldn’t be letting our little secret out to the boys. Don’t want to spoil things for you Ijebu girls tonight. I know you girls won’t let us down so the drinks are on you two.

Slave to the MAC.

It’s going to be one of those days people. The kind of day that just drrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaggggs on and on. I know this because when my “Baby let me love you” by Mario alarm tone went off this morning (you all thought it would be something by Tyrese didn’t you? Huh! See you all don’t know me. You think you do, but I am an unfathomable enigma that you can never truly know. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!), I simply turned it off, rolled back under the covers and continued snoring (Yes! I snore. You got a problem with that? Its actually more like a soothing background noise that my future hubby will love, so there!) That's a bad sign.

The usual routine is to jump out of bed, examine the roundness of my tummy, have a shower, throw out the contents of my wardrobe in a bid to find something decent to wear, rush out of the house, put on my make up as I walk to the bus stop and eventually crawl into work a nervous wreck because some old age pensioner took almost half an hour to get across a Zebra crossing, almost making me late.

Today I crawled out of bed, ignored my tummy (had cake yesterday and didn’t really think I could face the damage), put something on, not sure what but hey I ain’t naked. Forgot to put on any make up and scared the bus driver half to death. Eventually made it into work, where everyone asked me if I was sick. NO! I just forgot to put any make up on! Gosh! You would think I wasn’t naturally beautiful the way they were all going on.

Why must I always be made up like a China doll to get some lurve? I think I should be able to prance around foundation free and still be admired and wanted cause the truth is...thats the real me. Thats the me Tyrese is going to get 1st thing in the morning and last thing at night(Don't be scared baby. Its really not that bad). As an act of defiance I will not be putting on ANY make up for the rest of the week so there.

On behalf of naturally beautiful women everywhere, I will be as nature intended, free of all artificial preservatives. Naked as the day I was born. Well not literally naked, not sure the world is ready for that yet. From now on anything that doesn’t naturally occur on my body will not be tolerated. From now on the following beauty rituals shall cease:

1) I will no longer be shaving various parts of my anatomy. If the Lord wanted me to be as smooth as a banana all over, he would have made me shed like a cat every 4 weeks. Since that ain’t happening, you should all embrace my new hairy cave woman self. I’m hoping after a few months my body hairs will be all silky and smooth and I can spend many hours sitting in the sun grooming myself whilst my equally hairy man rubs pink oil into me. Ahhhhh bliss!

2) I will no longer be polluting my pores with deodorant. From now it will be Mena’s natural musk all the way. It makes sense that my natural sweet smells will be better than anything that comes out of pressurised can. So it might take you all a while to get used to it, but soon you will see the error of your ways and come round to my way of thinking.

3) No need to cut my finger or toe nails anymore. Quite looking forward to developing bird like talons to eat with. Saves with all the embarrassment at fancy restaurants when you can't figure out what piece of cutlery to use.

4) Lastly, I think brushing your teeth is highly overrated. You're only going to get them messy gain when you eat, so why bother? The cave men did just fine cause when ever the dig one of those suckers up they’ve still got their teeth.

I know some of you are going to get all prim and proper on me and start going on about hygiene this and hygiene that. Well I say hygiene smygiene. I'm doing this to liberate you narrow minded people from your addiction to slap. So instead of crossing over to other side of the street when you see me coming...Give a sister a hug. Doesn’t matter if I smell like a sewer and my newly grown body hair is itchy. Just remember that I'm doing this for you.

This is obviously not a feat to be attempted by you average looking people, namely Hurry up and Propose Chick, Bunny go go licious, Ijebu Chick and SE Chick. You all know that without your daily application of Mac foundation, lipstick, eyeliner etc it really wouldn’t be safe for you guys to leave the house. You have to think of the safety of the general public. Cars crashing into each other at the mere sight of your pasty, unattractive faces really won’t do. So even though I want you to champion the cause of natural beauty with me, I ‘m quite happy to do it on my own. But if you all feel the need to join in, you can contribute by not shaving the usual regions of your anatomy. Will be round at the end of the week to check hair growth.

As for you guys who turned up to hear my lecture on why not to dry your under wired bra in the microwave...2 simple words "Electrocution stupid."

I'm back!

Goodness gracious me! It been almost 2 months and you guys haven’t heard a Dickey bird from me (What is a Dickey bird by the way? Answers on a back of a postcard to “Do I really give a monkeys”?). Once again the lack of public concern as to my whereabouts has me puzzled. I AM THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES YOUR DAYS WORTH WHILE! And yet no rewards regarding info about moi. No police enquiries etc. Don’t you all love me no more??? A girl like moi needs constant adoration and luuuuurrrrrrve and if you my adoring public ain’t giving me none, I think I might just take my life saga elsewhere. Monkeys are capable of learning how to read you know, so don’t you all be feeling like you’re irreplaceable. Slackers! Anyway, weather you are interested or not, I have returned to bore you all to death with my constant moaning and self-appreciation. So get used to it cause MENA IS BACK!

So much has changed since I last bonded with you all…

I left my old crappy job with its crappy pay and lack of appreciation for my unique sense of humour and multi tasking skills. I now have a new lovely job where I get to interact with like-minded individuals on important topics such as the best bars to get totally sozzled on a Friday night. Who you would want to survive a nuclear disaster with to repopulate the earth?

My personal preference being Tyrese. Considering he survived the career disasters that were 2Fast2Furious 1&2. That boy can survive anything. Aaaah the very thought, me and Tyrese alone, with nothing to do but get busy all day. Seeing as I would be doing it for a good cause, I can molest him as often I as want. Joy o Joy! I have attached a piccie for your or should I say my viewing pleasure. Just a little something to make the day go faster.

Still living in my ghetto flat, tormented by my uncultured family members, speaking of which…the unspeakable has happened. You lot will never believe it when I tell you
SE Chick aka dodo lover is ENGAGED. I know! I know! All thanks to my Mena Magu Seduction and me. Available directly from me at the bargain retail price of £159.99 excluding VAT. Some of you people might think that’s a lot but can you really put a price on happiness? There was SE chick living alone in her sad little world, with nothing but fruit and her constant stalking of me to make her happy. A few squirts of my love potion and kazam! She’s got a blokey, a ring and is slowly driving everyone insane with her wedding plans. Isn’t that sweet. So don’t delay people buy now whilst stocks are still available. And for all you sceptics out there thinking if it’s so great how come I ain’t using it. The answer is simple…It only works on ugly people with no sex appeal. I’m sure you all realise I have both in abundance, so there. No offence SE Chick but a girls got to make money.

I’m still round in sexy, hot kinda way but all my annoying family members seem to be getting hitched this year. I’m on the train at 2 of these weddings. In order to save myself the embarrassment of the photographer using an extra wide lense to take my picture, I have decided to join the gym. This way I am guaranteed to be a hit with all the single groomsmen. Note annoying family! I will not agree to be on anybody’s train until I have had a chance to review the best man and ushers at your respective weddings. Please forward pictures and shoe sizes to me and I will make the final decision. Its bad enough I have to wear some horrific coloured creation to make you brides happy but I refuse to spend the whole day paired off with some buck teeth loser with a paunch and loose grasp of the English language. I don’t care if he saved your ass, your grandma and your dog from a burning building when you were 5. That is no reason to make him your best man. This is about me and what will get me down the aisle as quickly as possible. If you all love me, you will only use cute guys with big feet on your train. Thank you!

Speaking of big feet, you will never guess who turned out to have big feet… Crap Dude (formerly known as Hot Dude). He is a size 12 apparently. Information that would have come in useful when he was acting like a mental patient. Size 12 feet I can forgive anything. Had you used your initiative SE Chick and told me this vital piece of information sooner, me could be married by now or at least have been veeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyy happy for 10 minutes on a cold lonely night. Thanks a lot so called friend.

Ladies why does it always happen that way? Its always the crappy, annoying God forbid I should ever date you guys that have BIG FEET! If you all don’t know the relation between big feet and happiness, you all need to change your circles of friends or trying sneaking into a male locker room. Big feet mean he never has to say he’s sorry. He can show me instead in a whole variety of ways all day long. Yes I KNOW! I’m sick and perverted but try going without for… Shame won’t let me tell you how long but lets just say the Naira was still a viable currency the last time a man saw my knickers.

As you might all have guessed the one thing that hasn’t changed is my single status, but to be honest I ain’t as cut up about it as I used to be. A sense of calm has descended over me and I’m actually happy. No! not just saying that, actually cool at the moment. Might not be in a week but so far so good. I guess I’ve realised that there’s more to life than having someone leave his filthy boxers around your flat. I have a hard enough time picking up my own underwear without worrying about someone else’s. Today Mena is pretty OK! Its alright people...Mena will never go away again!!! Tomorrow we shall discuss the reasons why you should never dry your under wired bra in the microwave.

1 way to drop a bra size!

I've done it ladies. I've found a diet that works for me. It’s quite simple to follow. Just find some loser guy to trample on your feelings and hey presto ... you're miserable, you can't eat, sleep or shower. I've been on it for a week now and I must say my bra straps do feel looser. I stink, but hey! I haven't got anyone to smell me anyway...Sob! So you are all probably thinking “What is it this time? Mena's always got something to moan about.” Well tough! That’s the joy of Mena. The constant depression and moaning is all part of my charm. Its spring, freezing, I'm round, broke, unemployed and can't find an outfit to wear to Market boy's shindig that doesn’t make me look 6 months pregnant. I have every right to be depressed. Anyway let’s start again.

I'm depressed because Hmmm Dude has turned out to be just like any other dude. Annoying to the point that makes you want to commit murder. What is it with you guys? Why do you clam up the minute we mention the word "Feelings?” All I said was "How do you feel about all this stuff going on between us?" and his eyes kind of glazed over, he suddenly developed a stammer and the articulate, intelligent, pal I've known for 10 years turned into a cave man and muttered "I dunno." What??!!!! Pardon? Speak up man!

After several attempts He finally came up with the gem “I’m not very good at talking about my feelings." Lordy! You would think I was asking him to take an exam. Fella's you don't have to be good at talking about stuff. You just have to say what’s on your mind. Its not like a whole lot of you are any good at sex, but hey you're all ready to whip out the equipment regardless. So you should view emotional conversations in the same way, because we aren't expecting anything along the lines of Shakespeare. We understand that the years of reading the "ARTICLES" in Playboy magazine and Busty Black Babes have probably addled your brains. So we are quite happy to settle for monosyllabic grunting as long as it gives us a clue to what is going on inside that head of yours.

Hmmm Dude is yet to grunt anything...monosyllabic or otherwise. So I got into a strop and have not spoken to him since. I confess… I miss him. I miss the conversations, the hanging out and even his annoying habits, which I won't go into incase I decide to forgive him and make him the father of my babies (It so wouldn't do for them to know anything about the video camera). Anyway, so we aren't speaking to each other and I'm sad. I moan to everyone I know about it. Out of frustration Hurry up and propose chick rugby tackled some poor guy of the street, put him in a headlock and demanded he hand over his phone number. He obliged, probably because he couldn't breathe due to the pressure of her chunky thighs on his windpipe. She handed over his digits and ordered me to call him and get my mind of Hmmm Dude.

I'm sure a lot of you are thinking “That’s so sisterly and sweet.” Well, you can save your sentiments. She only did it because Market Dude managed to stow away on a ship and will be arriving in the country soon. She's just trying to make sure I won't be calling her at all hours to moan whilst she's boring the poor boy to death with fabric samples for her wedding. Anyway, I’m fed up with men. I don't want to see, speak or think about men ever again.

I will join SE chick and embrace the joys of plantain/banana love(Yep! She's still at it). No hassles. Don't have to spend ages looking good for my yellow love. Just enjoy, peel and have a something yummy to eat afterwards. Yep! That sounds good to me. This will also leave me time to have more intellectual thoughts. I spent way too much time thinking about boys and marriage. Surely there are more important questions I could be asking myself instead of “Why am I single?” There is soo much going on in the world. I need to find the cure to roundness, get a job, accumulate more jewelry, and get a man. No! No! No! No backtracking. There will no longer be any man getting conversations on this blog. Only Meaningful stuff. It might take me a while to think up some meaningful stuff but I will! Obviously not today…maybe tomorrow or the day after. Hell! Who am I kidding? See you same time tomorrow when I will be discussing the reason why you should never go out with a man that has facial hair.

.

2 in a bed = ??????

My hearts pounding in my chest. Sweats running down my face like a waterfall and I can barely breathe from the sheer effort. I want to stop, but I say to myself keep going girl. You can do this. Yes! I can do this. I'm a Tiger.... hear me roar. I'm a strong, black woman and will not be defeated by the cheap cotton shoe laces on my Nike look alike trainers. Whoever thought bending over to tie your shoe laces could induce a minor stroke? I'm thinking of suing the manufacturers for the emotional stress and physical pain they have caused me. They really should put a warning on the box " Attention all fat cows! Do not attempt to put on shoes in a bending over position. Please seat your huge rear end on the floor and then proceed to tie said laces or better yet, get your long suffering partner, family member etc to tie them for you". With a warning like that I wouldn't have wasted half my morning huffing and puffing over the stupid things.

Anyway, no need to go jogging now. I think I can safely say I've had a very strenuous work out already. Maybe I should take up yoga. How hard can that be. Its all just fancy breathing and visualizing calming images. Tyrese in the shower. Tyrese in a thong. Tyrese in nothing but an apron making me dinner. Ha! I'm calm already. Bunny go go licious swears by it. Claims it makes her all supple and bendable. Why she needs her bunny ass to be any more bendable is beyond me. We need to donate that girl to science. Maybe they can figure out how one human being can dedicate so much time and effort to thinking about sex with out exploding. AHHH!!! It doesn't bear thinking about. I know some of you probably think I'm jealous since she's getting it and I'm not. But I can honestly say it has nothing to do with jealously. ITS ALL ABOUT PRINCIPLE!!!!!!!!

I should be the one being swung around by my ankles in some new kinky sexual position (and before you all start...Yes! I might not get any flight momentum going , but hey! who cares. Swinging, dragged on the carpet, who cares as long as it ends in a sweaty, tangled mess.) Not some disrespectful university of Ibadan girl. I went to public school for goodness sake. Not just public school...CATHOLIC ALL GIRLS PUBLIC SCHOOL. Us catholic school girls are supposed to be throwing off our knickers at every given opportunity but here I am with mine firmly wedged into place. I know I'm not supposed to be thinking about s e x but its hard. Especially when you've spent the entire weekend with a M A N!!!

Man! what man? you all say. For those of you that come to church with me......there is no man. Its all a figment of my imagination and to be honest you really shouldn't be reading this stuff anyway. Its crap and it will rot your mind. You have no idea how much forgiveness I need to ask for on a regular basis. For all you sinners out there... read on. I doubt anything you read in here can corrupt your filthy minds any further.

Ok! Lets get back to the M A N in question. Lets call him Hmmm Dude! Hmmm because Hmmm ! I really don't know what's going on with him or me for that matter. Known him for forever and now all of sudden he's starting to look cute. It might be the fact that we're both all grown up now and he longer has a scary penchant for wearing navy blue sailor blazers or maybe my "haven't had any in a while" hormones are just kicking in and all men are suddenly hot.

Anyway Hmmm Dude and I have been spending quite a bit of time together lately and now things are getting a tad blurry. Are we still just friends? Do friends hold hands in the cinema, cuddle on the sofa(I said cuddle SE Chick before you start flicking through your Bible for relevant passages to quote at me), Sleep on the same bed( I said Sleep Hurry up and propose chick. Not Snog, grope, rub, jigi jigi etc but sleep. Anyway I don't think anyone that shaves their pom pom, in preparation for goodness knows what, is in a position to be dishing out moral advise). Anyway, can you do all this stuff and really just be FRIENDS? or is it true when they say "A guy and a girl just can't be good friends without one of them thinking something else is going on?

When I speak to my Girlfriends they are all oh my God he fancies you. Ijebu Chick is already measuring my niece for her flower girl outfit. My male friends are like damn! Boy got game!!! He didn't even have to pay for a three course meal and he got a woman in his bed. They don't believe we both just went to sleep. According to them if that's true... He's either gay, an Eunuch or he's gay. Because according to Boy rule number 345 "Any man that has a woman in his bed most shag or at least attempt to shag her despite the fact that you might not fancy her." So at the moment I'm a little confused. Should I be insulted that he didn't try and rip off my Primark night gown? Cause lets be honest. It's Primark!! Hardly going to take a lot of effort now is it?? More importantly what would I have done if he had? Knowing me and my current situation, probably ripped one side , whilst he did the other. But seriously have we blurred the boundaries by being too friendly??? Am I reading too much into the whole spending time together thing? Am I just hormonal or am I starting to fancy my friend??? I really don't know. I need to calm down. I need yoga.......I need images of Tyrese holding a bottle of Johnson's baby oil.

Wanted.....New Me.

I spent my birthday rubbing oil on a stripper. They made me do it o Pastor. I sooooooo didn't want to, being the highly spiritual being that I am. But they said they had paid him a mini fortune and I had to rub the Johnson’s baby oil all over his chest and bits or they would burn my Tyrese in a thong poster. I am still traumatised just thinking about the oil glistening on his torso whilst he gyrated to the funky beats of James Brown. Ah what a great day….I mean awful. What an awful, awful day that was. Excuse me a moment. I just need to be alone for a while.

Flowers, naked men (especially important, seeing as I have no idea when I'll be seeing one again), pressie's, good food and somewhat bearable company. Yep! Turning 30 wasn’t so bad. But now...2 weeks and 2 days into the New Year the euphoria is gone and life sucks. Yep! You heard me 2006 sucks. As this is my blog, I intend to spend the next couple of minutes moaning about it. For all you happy, clappy, my glass is half full kind of people… you might want to speed read to someone else’s blog because I'm not in the mood to be shaking no tambourine. I was insulted in the worst way this morning and to be honest I'm not sure I want to talk about it with you lot. But therapy is expensive and after blowing all my cash in the winter sales, I'll take what I can get.

Alright here goes.....this morning, some guy on the bus offered me his seat. Awwwww....you might all say. How nice and gentlemanly. Yeah that’s what I thought until he asked me how far along I was. It took a minute to click and then THE SHAME, THE HORROR!!!!! He thought I was preggies!!!! I knew I had overdone it with the whole merry making over the Christmas season, but lets not go crazy people. There was no way I looked pregnant. Maybe he meant I had certain glow to me. That’s it. A nice healthy sheen courtesy of MAC foundation; because there was no way in hell that minuscule roll of fat hanging over the top my jeans could be construed as mine and Tyrese's love child. Anyway having had a minute to put my anger in check and resist the urge to beat his gentlemanly ass senseless with my umbrella, I did the only logical thing I could do....I responded with the answer "3 months". I know! I know! I should just have been honest but no way in hell I was going to share my embarrassment with the great unwashed on the 297 bus. So I lied, got off the bus as soon as humanly possible and rushed home to do my annual body MOT.

My annual MOT is a little ritual I have that involves a mirror (to see the full extent of the damage the past year has wreaked on my superior being), a tape measure (for accurate damage results), a box of Cadburys milk tray (to comfort me after comparing last years results to this years) and a duvet (to hide my flabby body under whilst eating the box of milk tray and sobbing about being round and single). This year’s results are as follows:

My tummy... Having once been able to pass as being only 2 months pregnant(always useful during the rush hour), I have now turned into full blown Heffer who can now wedge the yellow pages, assorted confectionary and a mobile phone between her tummy and her thighs. This would obviously be ideal if I wanted embark on a life of shoplifting. As it is, I'm trying to get Mr. Right, so looking like I already have one, who I play doctors and nurses with isn't going to help me in my quest. I feel a fog of depression descending upon me. Where's that box of Milk tray?

My boobies.....stopped defying gravity circa 1996(how I mourned the loss of muscle tone that year). But hey! At least they are still a couple of centimeters from my belly button which is always a good thing. And now they have my ample tummy to rest on for support, they do look a little perkier. You may all laugh but you all ain't going to stay perky forever. Believe me! I'll be there to help you load them into a wheelbarrow when the time comes. We'll see who will be laughing then.

My ass.....seeing as I don't have one, don't have to worry too much on that score. Can't say the same for SE & IJEBU Chick though. When the time comes, you’ll both be needing ass girdles to keep those things from tripping you up when you're walking.

My Thighs...can still crack a nut open with a clench (ok maybe 2 clenches, but at my age that’s something)? Hurry up and propose chick!!!!!!!I suggest you come and take lessons from your older, wiser and hotter sister. I'm sure your future hubby Market Dude would appreciate thighs of steel when the time comes. I also find the come in useful for practical things like putting your man in headlock for those nights you just rather he stayed at home watching "Desperate Housewives" with you instead of hanging with the boys. Might only need to eat half the box of milk tray after all.

My arms......just when I thought I could come out from under duvet and chuck the choccies I did my arms and I think I'm going to need something stronger than Milk tray. I need alcohol because I have CHICKEN WINGS!!!!!!!!! A strong gust of wind and I'll be able to fly to most local airports. What am I going to do???? Where’s that cooking sherry?

Is this what happens when a girl turns 30??? Glug…..You become older, glug…. wiser …glug(cooking sherry and chocolate is good!) and flabbier??? I refuse to let this happen to me. I'm off to invest in a pair of running shoes and embarking on a military style fitness regime. I shall become a toned, sleek, panther like creature with muscles of steel. Following my Christian principles of "Waste not. Want not". I'll head down to JD sports as soon as finish my box of milk tray, the bottle of o go goro and the eba with obgbono and assorted meat I had planned for dinner.

I beg...stop making noise in my ear. JD sports dosen't close till 6 pm. So I have ample time to finish my last real food before I start eating oxygen for the next 2 weeks. Kapish? Good! Now sod off and let a girl eat cow leg in peace.

Happy New Year...............

Oh my Lord! How long has it been people??? Have you all missed me? I know most of you spent many endless nights staring at your computer screens longing for the moment when Mena would return. It’s a shame none of you thought to send out a search party to find my ass. I could have been kidnapped by fat loving Igbo boys and forced to eat Krispy kreme's to maintain my sexy flab’s and dance erotically to the tunes of Victor Owaifo. But do you all care???? Obviously not. As long as you get your daily fix you are all happy. Well serves you all right then if you suffering from Mena withdrawal. Anyway I will forgive you all and let you once again bask in the glory of my life.

THE END OF 2005

Last few months were....how can I put it?...CRAP!! I spent most of it in a darkened room surrounded by every flavor of Ben&Jerry's ever created and all because....sob...I'm sorry, its just so hard ......sob...all because....Hot dude turned out to be NOT DUDE! after 2 dates with my happening self he realized he would always be an insignificant little worm compared to my wow self and removed himself from the picture. That’s all well and good but who they hell is going to reimburse me for the Ikea makeover and Aloe Vera toilet paper???

I think we should be able to sue guys for false representation. They shouldn't be allowed to get away with getting us all excited and hinting at better things to come and then going off and never calling again. Maybe if he had to sell his body to old age pensioners to pay for my new Ikea fluffy synthetic sheep skin rug he would think twice about messing girls around in the future. Anyway after the trauma of being rejected by a guy who probably can't spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious(Lord have mercy!!!!!Its from Mary Poppins you deprived people. Am I the only who had a video when I was a child), I emerged from my darkened room, threw away the tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in my freezer, re hung my life size picture of Tyrese in a thong on my wall and begged him to forgive me for ever considering dating a mere mortal. Life once again makes sense.

Since Crap dude(as Hot dude will now be forever known), I have been chatted up by dodgy blokes and one who even tried to instigate phone sex before we'd even been on a date. What is it with you men? You would think the rolling layers of fat would put them off, but nope they keep coming with their sick willy controlled minds looking for freebies. Maybe what Bunny go go licious says is true and not just spiteful banter due to the fact that I am hotty and she's just a crazy nympho animal lover. Maybe I do have a "Shag me" sign on my head. Is it possible that I might be the kind of woman who unknown ling exudes some hormone that drives guys into a I must Karma Sutra you now kind of frenzy??? Making them ignore my wifely attributes??? Lordy no! Answers on the back of a postcard on how I can permanently have the "Shag me" sign removed from my person. I refuse to be a free milk giving cow for the rest of my life.

But I guess it ain't all bad. I can build myself a nice little nest egg whilst becoming a shag free zone. Let’s face it; there are a lot of uglies out there who could do with some of my kinky pheromones. A few squirts and it’s suddenly shag fest 2006 in some poor deprived person’s boudoir. I'm all inspired just thinking about it. I wonder what I would call it??? Mena Amour or shaggadelic magic. Oh! Oh! I know, Mena's Magu Seduction. The possibilities are endless. I am truly a genius. Don't worry family there will be discounts for all those who knew me before I got rich and famous. Some of you will obviously be needing it more than others. Bunny go go licious.... you are totally BANNED from having any free samples due to your already insatiable appetite. Not giving you any reasons to work my brother into an early grave. Nope, the person that really needs it and I'm sure those of you that know her will agree, is SE chick. Don't worry honey; you'll be the first to get a bottle, so you can finally move on from bananas, plantain and all other yellow, peel able, pervy shaped fruit. Its time to move on to LIVING things. Male, female it doesn’t matter as long you are both of the same species. I know you think you are being economical by having a plaything that can later be turned into a variety of tasty dishes but really, its time to stop. No....please don't argue....just put down the banana and walk away from the fresh food aisle. No Girl!!!! Don’t look back. That’s a good girl. Go find yourself a nice dress, spray some Mena's Magu Seduction and nab yourself a man. AH! My work here is done people.

The rest of the year passed in an alcohol, present giving (non of them were mine, having been cast into a stingy non gift giving family), food and constant I'll go on a diet tomorrow haze. It came, it went, had its ups and downs but 2005 is finally out the door. For me .......more ups than downs but can't say I'm sad to see it go because things can only get better. HAPPY VERY BELATED NEW YEAR!

Give me a fifty.......Now!!!!!!!!

Hooray its Friday!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve had a crappy week so haven’t really felt like writing. Sorry but even budding Booker prize winners need time to feel sorry for themselves. So hopefully the fact that the weekend is here will make up for the fact that I am broke, still round, have no heating in my ghetto flat and that I ran into my ex boyfriend in the home furnishing addicts store ………..IKEA!

Its bad enough running into your ex in any situation but picture this………….Me looking like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, wearing my "Nobody I know could possibly be in Ikea at this time of night" outfit. Pushing my "I'm a leper and live alone trolley" with only one plate in it. Whilst he looks normal and is pushing his " I have partner and so I need the extra large squishy duvet to keep us warm at night trolley". Don’t get me wrong……….me not bitter but don’t you just hate it when that happens??? Anyway I will not let the event traumatise me because I too might soon be pushing the "Extra large squishy duvet trolley" around . I HAVE ANOTHER DATE WITH HOOOOOOTTTTTTTT DUDE!

Sorry….Just need to digress quickly. Why is it that the moment you meet someone you might be interested in all your old boyfriends/toasters start crawling out of the woodwork?? This week alone I’ve had 4 different guys who I haven’t spoken to in months call me and want to hook up. Do you guys have some kind of radar that tells you when you’re about lose one??? Do you like have a list of girls that fall into a "Might marry her when I finish fooling around and don’t meet anyone better" category? I just don’t get it ? Fella’s please let a sister know.

Anyway, back to the issue at hand. This is the time for you people who claim to be my family and friends to show how much you really love me, by contributing to operation Bring the brother to his knees(BTBTHK). Hey! I TRIED BUT COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING WITH FUNKY INTIALS. This fund will provide me with the necessary equipment to ensnare my man. I suggest you all stop hiding your cheque books and think seriously about this. The sooner I catch a man, the sooner you will all finally be rid of me. So pay attention. This is what I will be needing:

I will need to turn my flat into a New York style loft apartment. If you have seen my flat you will know how expensive this is going to be. Bringing New York to the ghetto of Middlesex ain’t going to be easy. BUT IT MUST BE DONE! You see the secret of getting a guy to want to come over and hang out is to give him somewhere a whole lot nicer than the hovel he calls his bachelor pad to do it in. Also it helps to have sky sports and a play station. Who has the number for sky?

I need new underwear. In the event that my skirt should accidentally fall to my ankles for whatever reason(use your imagination people). It would be nice if he wasn’t confronted by my Benny Dee knickers. Whatever! All of you should be pretending you don’t know what or where Benny Dee is. Especially you Ijebu chick. We know you only bring out the good stuff on Bank holidays, Christmas, birthdays and when Arsenal win a match. I intend to rock sexy La Perla at all times. I just need to convince them to start making my size. Damn! These humungous boobies of mine. I think you should all contribute for plastic surgery first and then we will talk about underwear.

I need to stop buying Asda own brand food, toilet paper etc. The way to a mans heart is through his tummy and keeping his cute bum cute. I need superior quality food to enhance my cooking skills and moisturised toilet paper to keep his tooshy in perfect condition. I will now be shopping at Waitrose , Marks and Sparks and Harrods food hall. Be warned freeloading family members… These better food items will only be for HOT DUDE’s consumption. For all of you bringing your bowls, The Asda own brand rice and stew will be made available to you. And if you must use my newly refurbished bathroom my old copies of evening standard should suffice. HANDS OFF MY ALOE VERA INFUSED ANDREX. I have been warned to stick to hard core Niger food until he asks the big question. After that I will be packing up my mortar and pestle and bringing out my wok.


I need Tantric sex lessons, belly dancing classes, yoga classes, pole dancing lessons, stripping lessons and a 4 week course on mastering the Karma sutra. Before you all throw your Bibles at me………I will only be using said lessons AFTER I get the square cut yellow diamond nestled between two white teardrop diamonds in a platinum band. I just want to be ready and able to keep my might be future hubby entertained in all ways. Bunny go go licious come and lend me your sex manual now??? I promise I will return it with the post it notes still stuck on your favourite positions. Not the one with furry animals sha…………me not into all that kinky stuff with fur and floppy ears(The girl is just sick but she has her uses I guess. Still trying to figure out where on earth Just so Dude found her).

Hmmmm……..what else should I be incorporating into my new life as an almost no longer single chick??? Suggestions people! Keep thinking. I will be round everyone’s house tonight to collect my owo. There’s no point switching of your lights and pretending not be home. Where money is concerned I can be very patient. Got my sleeping bag , thermos flask of hot coffee and a picture of Tyrese to keep me company(Would prefer one of Hot dude but decided it might be a bit stalker like to insist on a picture on the first date). So ladies and gentleman I will be accepting cash, cheques and credit cards. No trade by batter or IOU’s will be accepted. Thanking you in advance!

Patience is a virtue? Tell someone who cares....

Chineke! You useless borrow borrow family members will not kill me in London. IJEBU CHICK!!!!!!! WHERE ARE MY HAND WARMERS OR SHOULD I SAY GLOVES????!!!!!!!!!! My fingers have fallen off due to the arctic conditions and I am being forced to type with my nose. I suggest you return my gloves ASAP before I have to call a family meeting regarding your un iyawo behaviour. Respect yourself!!!! OK??

I’m sorry people. I’m usually a cultured , dignified individual but these people just bring out the worst in me and unfortunately that is the only language they understand. Wait till you are forced to seat on the tube with your hands between your legs and people are giving you strange looks because they think you’re making yourself happy. You might be forced to go native in the language department too. You would think that after rescuing her from marriage to some ijebu farmer and letting her into the bosom of our family she would be a tad more grateful. But just because she’s dropped one and she manages to keep IT dude mildly entertained, she thinks she can act anyhow. Anyway I don’t blame her its my fault for still hanging around. I need to get my ass married and then maybe, just maybe I’LL START GETTING SOME RESPECT AROUND HERE.

Speaking of marriage …I think I’ve finally figured out why I am single. All these years of pondering and it was soooooooo simple. I don’t like waiting!!!!!!!! I hate it. I hate queues, traffic, getting my hair done….anything that involves hanging around for something to happen is just a no no. I go to a restaurant and they say "How would you like your steak madam"?.....I’m like, just bring me the cow and a blow torch and I’ll sort myself out. I’m just not a very patient person. I want everything NOW!!

So you put a person like me in a dating situation and its just a blooming disaster, because if there is one thing that involves waiting around for stuff to happen……….its dating. Men are sooooo slow. They just think we’ve got time too waste. NEWS FLASH!! We don’t have time to waste. I’m almost ….I can’t bring myself to say it …..30. Yes! 30. My biological clock is on overdrive and soon I won’t be able to wear the backless/frontless see through wedding dress I had planned because I’ll look like mutton dressed as lamb. Get your act together guys. You’re fast enough when bedroom action might be involved but when it comes to developing a relationship ……………please give the brothers a pair of Adidas.

I went on date the other day with......lets call him "Hot dude". Hmmmm! I'm sorry, can we have a minute of silence just to appreciate his HOTNESS!!! Wow I'm all hot and bothered now. We better make that 5 minutes instead. Anyway, I think we better stop appreciating now or I might need to take the rest of the day off work. We've done the first date and now, there's all this waiting.

I have to wait for him to call. In the days before BT ruined every stalker’s life by introducing 1471, you could call a guy just to listen to his voice on the answering machine and be safe in the knowledge that he would never find out what a psycho you are before your wedding day(I'll just like to take this time to apologise to all those ex's I stalked in my unstable days. Lets forgive and forget fella's). Now you have to remember to withhold your number or it’s a restraining order for you girl and you can kiss goodbye to the ring. Also I grew up in the 80’s/90’s when a girl calling the guy first was seen as an act of desperation. Hell! I’m desperate and would be quite happy to stalk him with unwanted calls and texts but I’ve been warned by SE chick not to disgrace her by being my usual desperado self. So, I have to wait for his calls. Question class…….When is it acceptable for me to stop waiting and starting making the calls?

I have to wait for him to ask me out on a date. Why? I’m bored now. Nando’s are doing a buy one chicken get one free offer and a girls got to have chicken(I'm not a cheap date. I just like chicken).

I have to wait for him to invite me over to his place. Why? I need to do the secret girlfriend/lying bastard check. ( You know... he says he’s single but you need to check for a spare toothbrush, pair of female knickers or lipstick anywhere in the flat.) If I wait for him to invite me that means he’s had ample time to get rid of the evidence.

Have to wait for him to ask me to be his girlfriend(Uuuh! that sounds nice.....girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend. Sorry...I get excitable). Why? I like him. Why should I wait for some hussy who hasn’t had to do all the work (i.e. buying food from Buka and pretending you can throw down in the kitchen. Wasting the yearly deficit of a small African country on your looks just to keep him hooked) just stroll in there and catch his eye whilst he’s still trying to get the words out.


Wait for him to invite me to spend the night(just holding hands of course). Why? Yeah yeah. I know BAD THINGS can happen. But just think about how much we would be saving on heating. Everyone benefits. The ozone layer, the planet and anyway I’m sure the Bible says waste not want not. I think that principle can be safely applied to this situation.

Wait for him to introduce me to the family. Why? If I wait how do I get to see what they are really like? Before I met Hurry up and propose Chick’s man, she pulled me aside and explained how my life wouldn’t be worth living if I ruined her chance of ensnaring the one man stupid enough to think she was hot. So I behaved myself. But hey! The minute they get married, I can go back to wearing my knickers as a hat and its too late for him to do sod all about it. So I think I need to be able to pay a surprise visit to his family. Make sure he’s grandma isn’t chained up in a hut in the backyard because she bites people, cause once I say I do I’m stuck with what ever loonies he’s got.

And lastly I have to wait for him to propose. WHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY???????? You guys don’t know what it takes to plan a wedding. Timing is everything. You don’t do it soon enough, someone I know will beat me to the alter and nick all my wedding ideas. Then when I want to get married it looks like I copied someone else. Shallow? Like I care! Its my wedding and it has to be perfect.

The list of waiting just goes on and on . Its enough to drive anyone insane.
Why can’t he just take one look at me and say "Yeah she’s cute. She’s got child bearing hips. She’s nice and round so she can either cook or at least knows a pretty good take out restaurant so I won’t starve. She said something funny the other week, so can make me laugh at least once a month. Doesn’t wear her pants over her trousers , so seems normal. Okey dokey lets get married". Now isn’t that simple??? I hope all you fella’s are taking notes cause I am so tired of waiting. Hmmm! Might make an exception for you HOTTTTTTT DUDE. Call me! Lets talk about it.

Moi?!!! Difficult????

Wow 5 whole days without moi. You all must be gibbering wrecks by now. Waiting with eager anticipation for what Mena did next. Well its alright I’m back and your lives need not be empty and dull anymore. Lets see what have I been up too? Well on Thursday I was sick....Sick of waking up at 6.30am every morning , fighting my way through women, children and pensioners just so I can stand all the way to work in a mechanical tin can called the metropolitan line. All this made all the more painful by the fact that London underground are charging me to get my new, this seasons pirate boots stepped on. Anyway I digress.....I was sick of being a dedicated employee (sending over 100 e-mails a day to friends and family is not a lack of dedication…its multi tasking), so I took a well deserved day off. But if you ever run into my boss I was SICK!!!!!!! REALLY REALLY SICK! I spent the day preparing for someone else’s wedding...again! WHEN IS MY WEDDING GOING TO BE? !!!!!!!!!!! Sob! I’m sorry I need a moment to compose myself.

The wedding was lovely though...sob! They both looked so happy..sob! I looked hot...HOORAY! and everyone else looked OK I guess. I looked hot or have I said that already? It doesn’t matter I’m sure you all never tire of hearing about my hotness. Anyway I made a mega effort to look nice in the hope of catching a cute usher, priest or wedding guests eye but I should just have come in my wonder woman pyjamas and saved myself the mini fortune spent on clothes. There wasn’t a cutie in sight. I think whoever is getting married next amongst my group of friends should have a picture of me on their invitations with a little caption saying "Single and will be attending the wedding". I think this will generate a greater response for your event. We will all benefit!!!! Fewer rsvp’s and more gifts for you the couple. And some of you guys know you don’t really have any friends other than myself, so the increased attendance will help create the illusion of popularity. This will be especially useful to you SE chick aka Elephant and castle Mama aka Dodo lover and you Ijebu Chick. Its nothing to be ashamed of lots of people are unpopular and don’t have friends. You mustn’t blame yourselves...blame society for not accepting you because of your non English speaking skills, not so hot looks(ugly..real ugly but lets not be rude) and raso(uncultured… for you guys not in the know)behaviour. By following my plan we are all in a win win situation. Ok! Good girls...contact me for a picture showing my good side.

Sunday was BLIND DATE DAY!!!!! I know!....Why would a girl like me have to go on a blind date??? ITS BECAUSE ALL YOU GUYS ARE SLOW SLACKERS! But I won't hold it against you when you feel the need to propose. I know I’m really cute, probably way too good for you and may sometimes look a little serious when you all see me on the tube or running elegantly for my bus. That’s because I’m thinking deep, world changing , intellectual thoughts. Like, will they forever be lost on "LOST" or are the Mitchell brothers in Eastenders growing their hair on their brains instead of their scalps as that would explain their stupidity to some extent. I’m just me....I don’t bite so come over and say hi. Slip a girl your number and lets see what happens. But before you all go crazy lets just lay a few ground rules. All number slipping guys must be in possession of the following:

1) A really nice set of teeth. Don’t smile at me if you don’t have a relationship with Aquafresh , floss or a dentist. If your teeth match the inside of your coffee cup then don’t even look in my direction let alone try and communicate through the medium of smiling.

2) "No romance without finance. You got to have J.O.B if you want to be with me." Gwen Guthrie was sooo wise! Sorry I may be shallow but I can only pay for your cinema ticket so often before I start revoking your other privileges. So for the sake populating the world with little ME’s the job centre is that way.

3) Look cute please.....no Michael Jackson style trousers ending at your knees, white socks, unmatching clothes and No!! tracky bottoms do not go with everything.

4) Try and accept the fact that in an ideal world where we all get what we deserve, I would be waaaaayyyyyy to hot for you and so act accordingly. No yo babe! What’s up sweetness! or Whoa have you got a pair! All statements not conducive to me accepting your number.

So now that we are clear on a few things feel free to come over, as you can see, I am really nice.

Anyway back to my blind date. You know what its like when all your friends are part of a couple(yuck!) and you’re the only leper still single. They suddenly go into some mad frenzy trying to set you up with someone. All taste goes out the window and suddenly women who once considered Denzel Washington to be a love god think its ok for you to go out with Snoop dogs non famous twin brother who lives in a cupboard in Peckham station. "Its alright" they say. You can fatten him up and that cupboard in Peckham station could be a property goldmine some day. Basically, as long as the guy has a pulse and all his equipment is in working order, he's eligible. You see they don’t want to feel guilty whenever you call them sounding all forlorn and ask if you can come over to play scrabble. They don’t want to play scrabble with you. They want to play it with their man and spell dirty words. So in other to avoid the constant guilt trip at you being alone, whilst they are getting all the good stuff, they need to hook you up and FAST. Which is why I was a tad suspicious when SE Chick said she knew a guy I might like. Had I pestered her once too often about my ever expanding tummy size ? Called whilst she was doing everything but with her other half?? Why was she trying to pawn me off to the first available guy she came across? I made up my mind I wasn’t going to be shoved off to some guy just to make everyone else happy. I wasn’t some charity case. I was going to stand my ground and refuse to go. I went(only to keep her happy)....he was cute, I guess. He was kinda of funny, I guess and maybe he was nice but I’m sooooooo not interested. I’ll just speak to him a couple of times and maybe go on a few dates so as not to hurt his feelings but I am definitely not feeling the cuteness, hotness,niceness etc I can find my own man THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!!!!!! Can you imagine the smugness if SE chick was the one that found THE ONE?! Lord! It doesn’t even bear thinking about.

Guys! This sister is saying........

I almost didn't make it today. I was distracted by Hurry up and propose chick and SE chick. The distraction involved a conversation about shaving body parts I won't mention and wee willy winky's.

Shock! Horror. I shouldn't be talking about those things but hey a girls got to take the excitement where she can get it. But it did make me think about how guys maybe don't have it as easy as we think. Hurry up chick said sometimes you meet a guy and he's just the total package...looks, money(yes we are shallow), great personality and come D day all you get is some weird little thing that really shouldn't have bothered coming to the party. Don't get me wrong...I'm not dissing.

In my years of sin (which are now waaaaaaaaayyyyyyy behind me), I was an equal opportunity employer. The way I see it... By the time you get to show me yours and I'll show you mine stage , its a bit too late say "I ain't doing nothing till you find the rest of it" So you just get on with it and hope for the best. I guess what I'm trying to say is I've always pictured guys as having an easy ride in terms of the whole dating thing. We girls worry about our looks, our weight, our clothes, ability to keep a guy interested in and out of bed. I guess I always saw the guys bit as once you get past the asking me out stage what else have you got to worry about?

But things have changed. Its not just women who have to worry about those things anymore. The days when all you had to be was breathing and male to get a girl are over. We Niger girls are more confident within ourselves. We are making our own money, doing our thing and all of a sudden having a guy isn't the be all and end all of everything we do. We've learnt to be a bit more discerning in term of which members of the opposite sex we spend our time with. We are asking what a guy can bring to the table other than his looks and bank balance.. Does he excite me mentally and physically? Can he grow with me? Is he willing to be more than just the man I share my bed with but my best friend? and more importantly is he willing to try that freaky thing they showed on "Desperate Housewives" the other day?

So guys......I apologise to all of you who I ever gave a hard time when you tried to tell me you appreciated my looks(even though you all need to learn how to say these things without the words Yo, baby or sweet thing in the sentence). All of you that tried to step to a sister and got knocked back...STAY STRONG. I personally will try to be kinder. Just like I hope people will get to know me despite the roundness. I hope myself,and other sisters won't judge you all based on what we see(in and out of the bedroom). I have brothers and male friends and I've learnt that boys cry too. You all have hearts that get broken. You worry that your belly ain't as flat as it used be, that your girls eyes seem to wander a tad too long on that guy at the club or that you just aren't cutting it in the sack or out of it.

You've all grown up having learnt that showing your feelings was weak. I guess I forget that its not that you don't care, its just that, maybe sometimes you are all too scared to show you do or simply just don't know how. So to all my brothers...big and small, who still make it a priority to keep chasing us sisters....I salute you.

Older and Wiser

I'm Nigerian and we are a competitive bunch of people. From an early age our parents drum it into our heads that we must strive for perfection in all that we undertake. If you're going to study then don't just study, do something awesome like be a doctor, lawyer, architect, engineer. Something even the guy down the street who can't read, write or speak English can say. They don't want us to be Bio chemical genecisist's because who the hell knows what that is???? And if no one knows what the hell you are, who are they going to spend their time bragging to???

Our parents bring us into the world not just because they want their spawn to populate the earth..They do it so as to have something to talk about when they are hanging with their buddies. How amazing we are, top of our class, making a million and marrying the richest/finest boys/girls around. How you gave them grandkids who could read the paper by the time they were 3 months. So in order to fulfil their ambitions and not embarrass them we spend our lives in constant comparison to every child our age from the next door neighbours to your 2nd cousin twice removed. People you've probably never seen or spoken to in your life and yet the minute the make it into Harvard, marry some pot bellied man worth a couple of illegal millions or dropped 7 kids in one go, they are suddenly the person you should most want be like. Never mind the fact that you want to go to art college and learn to draw naked bits, are a lesbian/gay and intend to have your tubes tied because you think the world is a terrible a place to bring a child into. All irrelevant!!!!!!! These are feelings you must take to the grave with you or at least wait until your parent are in theirs.

ANY form of rebellion will only be met with religious cleansing of your possessed soul, your mother's tortuous weeping accompanied by the "carried you for 9 months" chorus and for those who choose to follow the dark side I think the customary ritual is being whipped to within an inch of your life whilst standing in a river wearing a red loin cloth and not much else as some weirdo covered in shells chants over you. All things you want to avoid. So my advise.........do as your parents tell you......at least until you are safely on a plane to some non African country(anywhere they can drive to within a day isn't far enough), where, in possession of your passport and anything else you may need to claim refugee status, you may rebel as you see fit.

When you grow up in a society so obsessed with what everyone but the most important person...you.....thinks then its going to affect most of your choices. At least it did for me. I can remembar loads of things I wanted to do but didn't because it wasn't the done thing. Boys I liked but couldn't admit to liking. The were'nt from the right sort of family, school, money etc. The just wouldn't fit in. Forget love....how would I ever introduce them to my friends, family etc. Especially when everyone else is hooked up with some mega buff guy who quotes Socrates for relaxation. When I was younger fitting in mattered A LOT!!!!

There were lots of guys I could have dated and who knows maybe even married. But for me it was more important that I had a man like everyone else's. Someone who wouldn't cause a commotion by being too different. I suppose if everyone I knew was dating losers I probably would have gone out and found my own personal loser too( I did on several occasions...oh the shame). I had a huge list of what he had to be to be with me. With everyone that came along their was always something missing. I ended up dating someone my friends liked cause he hung out in their circle and was deemed acceptable. As you might have guessed.......didn't work out in a really huge way.

I guess as I've grown older I've learnt to throw the list out the window(ok ...maybe just downsize it a bit)and give people a go. I know I'm not perfect either(I am, but I'm trying to make the rest of you feel better about yourselves), so I'm learning not judge to hastily. I want to end up with someone I like not someone that makes everyone else feel comfortable. The whole point of people loving you is that they make an effort to become part of your life. They adopt your family, friends, hopes, desires as their own and vice versa. So when someone makes my heart go twice the recommended pace, I'm trusting that even if he's a goat herd who can't speak a word of English, all those that love me will love him too. Oh I'm all teary eyed just thinking about it. Someone pass the Kleenex!!!!!!

ohhhhh! Ain't technology great!

Wow! I've finally found a way to release all my pent up frustration (at being single and round) and aggression(From being lumbered with irritating family and friends who don't appreciate my numerous talents and extreme cuteness), without resorting to extreme violence. Here, I can moan, complain and do as much self gratification as I want. Hurray!!!!!! No more complaints about me clogging up peoples inbox with my intellectual observations such as the fact that I tend to look way hotter first thing in the morning if I fall asleep with my make up on. Take note fella's. Not that any of you will actually get see me first thing in the morning being a Christian and all. I'm not allowed to have any members of the male species in my bed oozing temptation at that time of the day. BAAAAAAAADDDDD THINGS!!!!!!! could happen. I would be happy to send any potential hubby pictures(face only, pervy people) of myself looking way hott first thing in the morning just to prove my point.

Anyway, not sure where to start telling you about my oh so wonderful self( excuse the constant self love. It's an after effect of growing up with philistines who would rather read your diary and give you a complex for the rest of your life, than say hi! you all know who you are).

Well I'm 29 soon to be ...............I'm sorry I can't bring myself to say it. I think we should just stick to me being 29(possibly for the next 5 years). I have a huge family, who I get on great with as long as I don't have to hang around them for long periods of time. Have a love/hate relationship with my job. Love to get paid/hate to work. I'm obsessed with shoes, clothes, accessories, food and day dreaming about Tyrese(mediocre American actor/singer but whoa is he hot). Over the coming days, weeks, months, years as you all get to know me better you will notice a few names constantly popping up. These will be the people that continually frustrate me and try to squash my spirit(you shall not succeed). I might as well introduce you them now so you can all get acquainted

Hurry up and propose Chick(Also known as Bovine Cretin) - Desperate to get married so she can have s.. younger sister.

Bunny go go licious - Rude, annoying soon to be sister in-law with a furry animal fetish.

Ijebu Chick - Even more annoying sister in- law obsessed with her derrière.

SE Chick - Extremely weird stalker friend with a big banana addiction.

IT Dude - Sometimes sensible older brother with a football obsession unfortunately married to Ijebu chick.

Just so Dude - Likes things just right older brother also with a football obsession soon to be completely ensnared by bunny go go licious.

As time goes by you will see why these people are the banes of my life and the reason why I'm neurotic. Anyway can you all go away now as its almost pay day and a girl needs to look busy. Next time we shall try to answer the question "Why is such a hot chick still single???" All you still single ladies might want to take notes so you can avoid the numerous pitfalls I managed to fall into over the years. LEAAAAAARRRRRNNNNNN FROM ME! Bye!