Sometimes, when I am having a crappy day, like today, I prepare myself a strong cup of lemon coffee(a delight a certain geek friend of mine called Will introduced me to, one time when I had consulted him in a bid to reduce my program coding dumbness and evade an F,the grade.) and I sit and think about some of my life decisions and choices.
*Like why I strangely enjoy staying without undies while indoors, Bae or no Bae. It’s just a thing I enjoy. I don’t even know why. Feel free to judge, you PERFECTLY untainted creation of God.
*Or why I leave my room sometimes without a bra, not on purpose of course. I just forget. See whilst others were endowed with jugs, the Man Above deigned it fit to bestow upon me some teeny-tiny Barbie doll cups, that likeΒ Miss Pepper’s, don’t even touch. So I guess it’s okay really,for me to walk around bra-less, because no one would notice anyways.
*Also, I think about how I sit or stand, depending on the meal, (Omena for instance, always has me standing. I don’t care what Nyanchwani says. Omena is the real deal) and lick my cooking pans clean, right before I get down to what I have served myself, which in most cases is enough to feed Shrek, together with all his ancestors and descendants.
I don’t even know where I am going with this, but what I do know, is that Satan is the shitiest person I know. I swear he tempts you in the craziest of ways and makes you question your sanity and everything you stand for. As I type this, he is currently frustrating every webpage reload and button click that I have tried to use to log out of Bae’s Facebook account on the next tab. I have been at it for about ten years and nothing seems to be working. Okay, it’s only been a couple of minutes but it’s taking so long it feels like years. I can picture him with his ugly horns and tail,and his stupid arrow going round my head saying,
“Come on…hit that inbox icon. You know you wanna…You know you wanna…”

And he’s right. I REALLY wanna. I wanna hit that inbox so bad, I’m beginning to sweat just trying to resist. It literally feels like the icon is calling me to it, seducing me like that Proverbs 7:10 woman. Like it will give me a year’s supply of Oreos just as long as I click on it. I am beginning to feel a tension fart boiling up somewhere in my rec. I’m in a tough situation for sure, because believe me when I say that Olivia Pope has nothing on me when it comes to Information Sourcing. Well, other people call it snooping but I am Luo. Everything about us is exotic, and that includes the words we use. But that’s besides the point.
The point is, Continue reading →
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