Tuesday, 28 January 2014

City lights

The city doesn't sleep, bleary eyes staring,  eye contact fleeting, the reasons long forgotten, we see the same moon. "we've run out of chopsticks, a fork? 50p for tea? Got a light? Gi's a fag". Random connections, six degrees in the making, the city doesn't sleep.

The 9.17 train, transportation for souls, rarely heavenly, the purpose practical. "can I borrow your paper? Does this stop at Lewisham? Anyone want my ticket". The woman smiling, a brother's nod in black recognition. Like every other day

#TheWeeknd -  Gone

Monday, 27 January 2014

Monday tings

Always interesting blogging with the Blogger Android app, as I often do these days. Damn thing has a mind of its own sometimes. randomly not saving a draft post (didn't prompt to save when I exited), posting my location cos I forgot to untick. Still, quite handy on the train. What else? Yeah, got told by a girlie friend they really like my blog cos I post about sex and music :)) Thanks darling but, I.. lol, OK I should post more political and other stuff.

Been a lot of "going back home" activities in my cipher. Neighbour moving back to Jamaica soon, one of the boys on an extended trip back to his native Gambia to build a yard, Jim down the road returning to Ireland.  Even my street pharmacist is in on it, says it's the best way to protect his "profits" (waffled on about some shit regarding 5-0 and proceeds from illegal activities). Movements, born out of necessity (retirement, health) or just plain missing home. It got me thinking, like one would have to call it quits with the UK one day, split my time between here and Nigeria. I don't want to zimmer frame old in the middle of an English winter! But how do I even begin laying such foundations? As I get older I am becoming mindful of my kids getting to know their roots, of needing to do shit now I have the energy, time waiting for no man. Yet I have mad bills pulling at my wallet, zero savings as a result, London shit to do. Life to live.

These questions just creep up on you, like shit, is this what happens when one gets to the 40s? Am I the only one? Oh yeah, forgot, gotta start contributing to that pension plan again. That's another one. it's like however I calculate the final pension payout I am still gonna be short. Big pension fund letter (and glossy brochure) the other day said increase your contributions, like by 25%, didn't say how. Can't work out if it's honest advice or they want water from stone. This modern living is gonna be the death of us. But till then, we'll keep blogging (less sex and music please)

Friday, 24 January 2014

Strong Independent Black Woman

The myth of the strong black woman. The sister in the YouTube video makes a very good case of debunking this myth, putting some context on things. Kudos to her. Some women need telling some home truths. It's all bollocks

When I first came to the UK I picked up on the ultra assertiveness and aggressive streak that ran through some black women. I don't come from a background of passive womenfolk, but I wasn't used to or ready for the type of super independent, ultra suspicious mindset I encountered. Quite scary when you deal with a woman predisposed to challenging you at every turn, sometimes over incredibly trivial stuff.  After a number of failed dates I quickly realized my African world view will get me no booty. Altered stance, but does one have to become warped? Thankfully I did finally meet the womenfolk who were more in tune with the bigger picture. Kinda like the lady in the video.

As time went on I saw where it was coming from. Kinda.  A litany of broken homes, some baffling choices of partner (drug dealer boyfriend, dudes with 9 kids etc), teenage pregnancy, no patience with the "perceived" waste man (read as educated, not enough swagger, too nice, no sense of danger), basically an acceptance of the prevailing bullshit.  like the video says, the women become bitter and sensitised, the straight talking breddah gets it in the neck. It isn't strength and independence, it was more like a warped sense of self preservation. Possibly an age old affair with its roots in slavery and the welfare state, the systemic break up of the black family. I still have peoples with children, man living one place, the woman with the kids in another, both claiming they are "family". Strength and independence because of, not in spite of. A complete waste of human bandwidth.

So can it change? Well, topic for another blog post.


Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Midnight Marauders

A Tribe Called Quest's "Midnight Marauders". Best Hip Hop album ever.  DJ Chris Read's mix plays the original songs played alongside the classic samples used.  Very tastefully done.  20 years on, I still spin it

how fucking cool! (http://iamblaq.tumblr.com/)


Brothers With No Game: One of the best web series on YouTube right now. Emo-ishy lol, but fug it, I like

Happy Tuesday my peoples

Office tales

Mr Indian resources manager, Ro, called me yesterday to confirm I had granted a half day off request to my main developer dude out there in the Guagon office. Unusual that he's called, we normally do this by email. I knew there was more.

"Your guy is having an affair with one of the business analyst girls".

OK then, that's way way too much Intel for what is essentially his private business. Manager boy has always had it in for him, probably cos he reports directly to London and earns a big salary (by Indian standards). Nosey parker

"Ro, what he does in his spare time and with whom is his private thing. All I care about is the quality work he puts in, and I've never questioned it".
"but the last time he said his sister was sick he didn't come in for days!"
"unpaid leave, so what?"
"but the lady called in sick too. I just don't think it's in the interest of the company and.. "
"Ro listen! sorry friend, but let me be the judge of what's in the company's interest"
"but she's married!"
Hmmm, married ey? Everyone likes a good infidelity tale. My interest sparked for a few seconds.. Then business demeanour returns.
"so what exactly do you want from me? Do you have proof of this?"

Urrrrgh! Could beat this guy. How the fuck are you gonna intimate me on shit when you ain't even knowing? What's the matter with these people?  I don't even want to fucking know! Give me back my air time!  Complicated company man! Must be a cultural thing to meddle. My dude would have been quartered and sacked ages ago if this Napoleon was his direct manager. I'd already warned him not to give demi god any ammunition.

Moral of the story? Fuck morals, just don't shit were you eat. Especially around mother fucks


hash tag #bollocks.

Benefits Street.  Not sure what one is supposed to take away from such programmes. It has no premise, gratuitous, voyeuristic, pseudo documentary reality TV, rolling handicam digitally shot style, a boat load of (seemingly) hopeless lives, cheap tug at the emotional.  But if they (un)intentionally wanted to show happiness in spite of whatever they couldn't be more right.  The chattering classes and the rich have this warped notion that they must save (as they scorn) the poor.  "Oh look at the poor buggers", a mind set that creates a culture of benefits and systemic maintenance, prone to political tinkering.  Just look at the NGO charity mess that besets mother Africa.  I'll slap the next person that points to people on benefits owning widescreen TVs and PS3s.  Its a social contract of your making, now shut the fuck up.  Some posh toff probably commissioned the series.

I lived in a hostel at when I first arrived in the UK and a number of times I dealt with social workers and housing types who didn't have a clue. They had a starting point like your life must be hopeless and you're desperate, in some sort of depression.  While on benefit I used to get leaflets and invitation to job classes that had no basis in reality, programs obviously designed by Ivory tower types.  For a paltry £70/week you had to play ball to their socio-stupidity. The reality though is that you got on with life, found some joy in your (abundant) spare time, generally aspired to things, innate human emotions.  You didn't necessarily spend all your time worrying about a situation you are powerless to change for the positive.  Even before I qualified for the paltry benefits (habitual UK residency issues) I still managed to find the odd job to keep body and soul together.  Life is for living, fuck worrying about being broke.

I remember watching a BBC that ran on similar-ish about poverty and struggle in Lagos, Nigeria.  And people wonder why Nigeria is voted the happiest country in the world - still could be like Fela Kuti observed, suffering and smiling lol

Tuesday, 21 January 2014

The Revisionist


We all do it. So the victory becomes a triumph in the face of (over) exaggerated adversity, achieved by superhuman effort. Even the aggressor aggressively spins this very same narrative, a replacement for the simple apology. The great loss papered over as a blip in the life stream. We're all revisionists. Revisionism is surgery for blame. How else does one cope with events for which one is responsible? You revise what happened, excise the negative, apply spin on glossy paper, play it back a few times in your head, it becomes fact. Absolution from any wrong doing. I mean, who likes to be wrong, right? Who doesn't want that Nobel peace prize?

I watched Ariel Sharon's state burial in stunned amazement. Here was a man responsible for the deaths of many people, architect of many Israeli apartheid-like policies towards the Palestinians, wholesale appropriation of their land, a war criminal at best. If he was an African leader he would've been dragged in front of the world court. Racists. A very Palatial state affair, dignitaries from all over the world, Tony Blair, many singing his praises. No shame in their effusiveness. The Victor, the Great Uncle, the doting father. The murderer. History will record his greatness, his follies relegated to footnotes, attributed to weak others. Even in death..

The problem with revisionism is in its codification. Because you forcefully distort the facts doesn’t make it so. Some truths always come to light. I watched a history documentary where the forensic archaeologists uncovered evidence to completely rewrite certain historical events from the 17th century, marvelling at the lengths the perpetrators went to codify their legacy. Because of this find certain wrongs are in the process of  being righted, legacies tarnished, legacies restored. I bet the Victor never factored in modern science.

Revisionism is doing OK. It remains so

Monday, 20 January 2014

In which I was lyrical about Bisexuality

..and as usual not really knowing what I'm on about

Caught a drink with two ex colleagues, catching up on what's good, life, blah. Somehow the conversation turns to Vauxhall and it's gay scene. So one of the dudes waxes lyrical on the clubs, bars, shenanigans, etc to which we jokingly ask if he was gay to know all this. "I am bisexual". Whoa! OK, whole new conversation. We'd known dude for a while, and while he was a tad effeminate, you wouldn't think he was that way (and what what way is "what way"? exactly). As he spoke about his bisexual life I couldn't but help wonder how many people people operated in the grey area that is bisexuality.  When did he know he was both? What role does the bisexual person play in the same sex relationship, as opposed to when they are in a heterosexual relationship? Who is the "man" and how is that decided, or have I got it all twisted and its a truly equal relationship affair? Are they gay for the duration or always in two states of persuasion? Is it all just plain fluid?

As a form of sexuality it is not spoken of much, with the heteros and homosexuals driving the conversation, yet anywhere gays are mentioned bisexuality comes up. Recently a few sports personalities have come out as bi but it's only served to muddy up the conversation. Typically lots of spin and vague talk. Tom Daley could only manage his "seeing a man". Yes, I agree, no one should be compelled to discuss their sexuality so publicly, but if you are gonna come out then tell us what it means about you. 

I don't think I've ever met a bisexual man, in relationship with a fellow man and all, and I was all ears as my ex colleague spoke. He was quite grey and refused to speak on behalf of the bi group. One thing he did mention was the relationship side was quite rare and bisexuality was more in realm of sexual expression than in romance. "so are you romantically linked to your boyfriend then?". Cheeky smirk as he mentioned having a girlfriend too. And yes, romantically linked to both. OK then, now that's a whole new grey area lol! How.. never mind.  lol, more questions than answers

p.s: interesting article http://www.nerve.com/love-sex/history-of-bisexuality-studies-celebrate-bisexuality-day

Mikaeel Kular

I normally don't pay much attention to the news but the disappearance of the 3 year old boy Mikaeel caught my interest. You know it's complete nonsense when you're told a three year old got up early hours of the morning, dressed himself, wandered off into the night. If I was 5-0 I would have arrested the whole family there and then. As it is his murdered body was eventually found yesterday, not surprisingly so. The full story will eventually come out. That said what a completely very un-maternal hapless and hopeless mother. Some women.. smh

I see how these things happen. See, I struggle with women who have children they obviously don't care for. This one lady I know would go out partying every minute, dumping her toddler son around the place. Her and the ex baby father would have these almighty rows about her wayward ways, yet she would deny him proper access to the kid. Had to really talk to dude after a particularly vicious row, fearing the worst for the child, stood there, quivering, as these two continually batter each other.  Saw her the other day, heavily pregnant for god knows who, feeling sorry for the unborn child's future.  Such women never change. Their motivation for having kids are usually around weird ideas of love, they are "supposed to", boredom or just plain confused about life. Every reason but love itself.

Then there is the inverse, the spiteful dude who can't get over his failed relationship, dogging the woman at every turn, looking for any reason to "get back at her". As usual the kids are the easy target. Once a friend of mine took his kids for the weekend and disappeared. After a lot of despair they were found up north. His reason? Her new man disrespected him. I couldn't quite get why she took her new man along to drop the kids off and what words were exchanged, but it's no reason to go loco and do crazy shit. So what? The next dude has marked your old patch with his piss.  She dumped your weak ass or fell out of love with you, or whatever. Grow a pair, find yourself a new patch and mark with stronger piss, build a new life and get over it. I don't got time for dudes who pine over an ex wife or girlfriend, doing stupid and dangerous shit. Wimps.

For some people their relationships becomes like a death trap, a vicious struggle to get one over the other, to assert some faux control, irrational behaviours, madness. The kids are always the victims in this. Allah bless the children.

Whatever happened to you Mikaeel, for whatever fucked up reason your mother or father finally give us, please rest in peace baby boy.

Sunday, 19 January 2014

Jazzin' it up!

First concert of 2014, and big up to my man Theepan, great ear for music and what's good in London city.  So yeah, all systems go, big ass night, live music, lots of exotic drinks, dancing, tapas. Not done all that in a minute. Jazz Cafe was straight jumping, Frank McComb and his live band, jamin' on the piano, drums and bass guitar, crooning some sweet neo soul and belting out some seriously funky numbers.  Very rare do I go see an artist without knowing a thing about or hearing any tracks from his body of work, instead relying on the favourable reviews by others and remembering the odd track or two he's featured on.  Pleasant surprise and a memorable night.

London's Famous Jazz Venue

Just before their tour DJ host signed off he dropped this funky little bossa nova sounding number by an artist called Zo!, flight of the black byrd. Thank God for Shazam, quickly copped the name of the song and the artist.  Reminded me very much of the type of stuff Bugz in the Attic use to put out early Y2K

Unbeknownst to us there was an 80s/90s pop night billed to follow straight after, and the DJs didn't waste time cranking up the volume.  From Salt n' Pepa to Mantronix to friggin' Michael Jackson and Snap! ("I got the power") the night just went on and on.  Camden's that eclectic and the plethora of eateries, from Japanese Bento houses to Italian ristorantes, making for excellent choices.  Had to be Tapas and soon I was wolfing down all sorts of petit Latino dishes.

lol! when's the last time you heard this? bit cheesy-ishy now, but was the lick back then

Good stuff and more of the same. Happy and restful Sunday peoples

Friday, 17 January 2014


"Chale! you no dey hear?". Nyash is Nigerian pidgin English for the female booty. Didn't know Ghanaians used the slang too. There, you've learned something :~)
Iyanya killed it with this video back in 2012. Thick ladies all up in this

Thursday, 16 January 2014


Does anyone even still use the ubiquitous desktop apps, yahoo messenger, MSN, Skype early versions? Chat software has come such a long as to be unrecognisable from the early days. The premise is still the same but things done really change, with a plethora of voice, pictures (and it's self deleting variety), video and collaborative chat apps, colouring the landscape. Bar the nominal purchase costs, these mostly free apps rule the roost.  I find myself making less and less cellular calls. Lol, make that zero calls on the traditional landlines. Got one next to me at work, literally jumping out my skin when it rang the other day. It's been sat there for a whole year and never rung! Oh, lol even that is not a real landline, one of those VOIP data phones things that plug into the mains.

I must have saved a ton of dollars cos my last few phone bills have been coming in at tariff cost level, with zero data charges. See even the free wiFi is creeping into everything. On the trains, McDonald's, Starbucks, the banks, my local Turkish cafe. I am literally hoping from wireless network to wireless network on my way to work. Hmm, that rhymed. It's getting to a point where I don't even need people's mobile numbers to communicate on the daily. Balling on the cheap? Well London is fucking expensive as it is, no need to pay over the odds.

So what's a fav app? Tried them all but dig Skype for its superior reach. When my Nigerian brethren can call me on it then you know it's good stuff.  Also it's ability to let you share your desktop puts it miles ahead. WhatsApp is another favourite, probably it's first mover advantage and it's contact list management. The problem is that WhatsApp attracts a lot of fucking stalkers. I hate stalking nosey cunts. Why would you go online to see if someone is online? How fucking paranoid is that? I don't even get any of that. Fucking creeps. Snap chat. Now I had some seriously silly fun with Snap chat just before the security hole found in the app, but it's killer feature is the self deleting pics and videos, and you don't need to be told how deliciously mmm those can get. Sigh, miss it already. Viber, hmm. Now see I couldn't get into Viber, it's clunky interface just wouldn't do it for me. One I'm into right now is Google Hangout, really kinda nice how it integrates with Google+ and shit.
So there you have it. Save yourself some dough

Diamond life

I feel like a weight has lifted. Woke this morning, knowing deep inside that I am OK. Let the good year of the dog (or whatever the Chinese deem it as) roll on, despite the best efforts of my detractors and their secret and open wishes to see me fall. Like Nas said, I wish you the opposite, success and prosperity. Straight Haters lol! Jeez! Am I like developing a hater persecution complex? Gotta change my body spray, these maggots starting to think I'm road kill or something :~)

So yesterday one of my dope babes holla'd at her boy, wanting my good advice on love and all that. We kicked it for a minute, on some who the dude is, what he does, why she's fallen in love, does she think he knows, blah blah. As usual my answers were complete rubbish, consisting of all varieties of "tell him". But she likes my banter, and we had our usual playful argument. See, I don't do love, not the Western society social construct. Have my babies, give me good sex, cook good food. Done, I love you. Well hey, I'm black and African init? what did you expect? And no, the Nigerian nollywood movies don't reflect our reality.

Nah, I ain't that shallow, just don't see the complexity others moan about. I digress. It just struck me how different men are from women. Whatever dude was doing has caused my girl to fall in love with him, and the poor fella probably wouldn't even be able to articulate what his thing is. Women are complicated like that, falling in love over the most unlikely things. I wish my girly luck, hope it happens for her.

Right, what's this? Ah a WhatsApp message from a Fabulous girl? What a diamond! Girlie does looks good naked ;-) just kidding. Still, put that in your pipe and toke on it

Your Neck, Your Back

What? someone tell me "My Neck, My Back" ain't hood classic. Had a good laugh telling a female as much, her labeling me a nasty motherfucker. See, Khia was mad underrated, but she gets the gong for this one song alone, at least from me lol! She says it like she feels it, raw and all that.

But how tame is the video compared to stuff that's come out since then?

Can never get enough of Vincent Stephens (facebook page) erotic art (18+ NSFW! and unofficial gallery here)


1960 What?

can't get enough of this. Motor City what?

Admitting is the first step

It's like a really slow car crash. Have you ever watched someone fall apart right in front of you? That strong sense of their reality drifting away, mind state descending into chaos, a strong sense of degradation. A friend of mine came to a recent party I held for my kids and right off the bat I could sense this misplaced aggression in his demeanor. Not before long he was getting into senseless arguments with my guests, challenging every opinion, outright hostile in one case of a lady friend. For someone who is normally fun loving and easy going I was taken aback, had to literally check him and get him to go home and get some sleep. The next day he called, all apologies, but behaved the very same way when we went out together not long after. At the club he was over-everything, dancing all over the place, lots of drink, chatting up every woman in sight. As any friend would do I sat him down to ask what was wrong. It was everything and the third, and predictably not from any fault of his. From percieved injustices at work, victim complex, tired of his wife dogging him, noisy stubborn kids, he went on and on, always angry. It dawned on me as he spoke that this dude was in the early stages of some sort of depression. I blog this because he called this afternoon to seek my opinion about seeing a counselor. His behaviour was affecting his marriage and he had to do something. I'd been in a reflective mood all day over something very similar so was ready to lend an ear. I mean, what does one say but applaud his admittance, something very few men would do.

Called my doctor brother to seek professional advice on my boy's behalf. Depressive tendencies and the onset of it manifests in a number of ways. The sudden change, irrational and strange behaviour, that lowly unshakable mind, aggression, very unpredictable. I've watched people go paranoid, aggressive, glum, usually not knowing what to say to it. You can try and engage, talk to the person, try make them get a grip, but that's a mistake. You can't talk someone into coping with whatever and how it manifests itself in their lives. Though the symptoms seem straight forward the cause could be complex, from dealing with life situations to the result of a chemical imbalance. The realm of professional help. My brother was convinced my friend needed some happy pills, us laughing about how the drugs are meant to fix everything, but strongly advised he seek help.

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

12 years

Went to see 12 Years of a slave the weekend just gone, a fantastic movie and a must see to gain a deeper insight into the evil that was slavery. As I watched I thought deeply about a 400 year old scar on the conscience of humanity, pondering the mindset that would permit a race of people to enslave another for so long. 400 fucking years! It runs deep, and to think that up to the time of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, the American of African descent could not exercise basic human rights most free man took for granted.. sometimes the totality of it defies any meaningful comprehension. countries built off the blood of the black African.

I remember watching a documentary detailing very wealthy families and institutions, the origins of their fortunes steeped deeply in slavery. The show could only hazard a guess figure of 22+ billion in today's money circulating in the hands of an elite few in the UK alone.  Blood money.

A particular disturbing scene (one of many) was the preacher quoting passages from the Bible justifying slavery, spewing brimstone and sulphur, the slaves all gloom as they listened. It was very odd to watch and a stark reminder of the role the church and it's Bible played it's perpetuating the evil side of Man. The churches to this day have never truly apologised or even attempted to hand back the insanely vast fortunes acquired in the pursuance of slavery.

Drop it down

Late part of last year I spent a lot of time reacquainting myself with the genre that is Drum and Bass (dnb). Was a big fan of Jungle back in the day and later on with the new movement stuff like Metalheadz and Roni Size. Calibre - Drop it down
Calibre - Judgement day
Calibre - Just a little herb (ode to the good herb)

Always had a like for that dnb with the furious breakneck beats and soulful vocals, more akin to the UK soulful garage sound. My big delight was discovering the dnb artist Calibre, apparently a legend in the game. The fun part was discovering him via a Polish DnB station, having no clue the show was a dedication to his great body of work. I've posted three of his best tunes (in my humble opinion)

Nature of the beast

At what point do you start freaking out? Sigh, people, we never learn do we, glutton for punishment. It is hard to know what one is dealing with sometimes. Obsession? Compulsive obsessive? Some insecurities?  some unknown underlying back story one is not privvy to? There are times when you have aggro with someone about something you are meant to have done or are doing. Not something you've actually like physically done, but stuff based on their "perception" of "non-events", a feeling if you must. I say non events because you are not faced with facts, rather it is a.. I honestly don't know. A deep reflection and thus projection of their own ingrained guilt? The lesson is some shit you should never ever get into.

Of course, as these things go, first recourse is to set the record straight. Disagreements are neither here nor there, but that's the matter done and dusted, if they choose to not take your word there is really nothing to say.  You can't go on the defensive against air.  Agree to disagree, world peace and all that. Life goes on, right? But in this case it isn't .. done, it becomes like a nasty never ending campaign against you (discredit?). So you step back a bit, maybe try figure out what is really going on. See sometimes we ignore the reality of the matter, because we have a fixed notion of the people we deal with. We believe them to be rational, straight forward, capable of being sensible. If I associate with them then they must be good peoples. First mistake, you inadvertently leave the door open to months of nightmarish emotional tosh. The stalking begins, online and offline, you every word and actions obsessively examined, to the point you start censorship of self, anything to maintain some semblance of peace. Then self doubt starts to creep in. You literally have to stop and give yourself a hard slap - a reality check. Am I bad for health? Did I actually do what is being levelled at me? Brainwashing.


The solution? You can't kill Hydra by hacking off the snakes on her head. Hercules figured out as much. You cut the witch's fucking head off! Now all I need is a very sharp bush machete. Scratch that, a big chainsaw will do the job

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Baby muzak

I've taken to watching baby TV, no baby in sight. Baby boy watches it ish, but I never get round to changing channels after he's gone to bed. As I type some random Bethoven and swirling colours play across the screen, pretty colours and soothing music. Odd as it may seem this is a 24 hour channel, really struggling to imagine what one year old would be up at 10.10 pm. Maybe there are more like me, entranced by fricking baby TV

had a serious fit of the giggles watching this at work this afternoon. Fonejacker was one mad hilarious TV show. The fonejacker guy made these random calls and did all the voices going, English, Ukraine, hard Nigeria accents, the lot.  The crack up were the random pictures they'd flash up as the call went on.  Hilarious stuff

Monday, 13 January 2014

I will control you.. Not!

It's funny the vibes you pick off couples when sat in their house, dinner and drinks, that sort of thing. I'd never been to my man Dennis's place before and had never met his woman too. As I walked in, I immediately sensed a tenseness, noticing her careful stepping around him, her choice of words, easier responses when I said something but much guarded when he spoke. He is a very difficult chap but that type of control was new on me. He would give her these looks if a difference in opinions developed, she clamping up like instant-ish. Initially I thought they may have had a fight but nah.  I started to wonder if he beat her. Who knows with these things, maybe I was overbraining the situation.  But I'm usually right with the gut instincts.

I prefer my women articulate and expressive, a good argument on the odd occasion, an independent mind. Control of any form steals character, rubs out uniqueness, servitude mindset. I hate it when a woman is cowed like that, her personality subdued. Stand up to your man, don't be so wimpish

And it happens vice versa too, women who are control freaks, dogging their men at every turn, demanding this, that and the third. Women like this I love to wind the hell up, especially in front of their men, show the dudes how to deal with their bossy ways. You can see them seething, craving to gouge your eyes out lol. Sorry I can't be controlled like that.

Friday, 10 January 2014

Noir Erotique (black erotica)

London state of mind

As conundrums go I find myself in a very interesting one. So I'm blessed with huge pay rises, but incredibly murky working hours. It's three minutes past Midnight and I've just waltzed in through the door, the long hours getting ish ready for use tomorrow.  Social/Family life 0 - Work 1.  Worse still is not making it back on time to sing happy birthday and cut cake with my second son (It's weird cos I remember that happening to me when I was young, my dad not making it back for birthday celebs.  Life init, sucks hard wood).  The out-of-body feeling persisted all through the day as I held team meetings, spoke to other team leaders, looked at my pay check neatly dropped on my table by H.R.  I even got a phone installed on my desk - "You must be reachable".  It not that I don't like the job - exciting software frameworks and apps, free-ish reign to do stuff - it's just that deep inside I hunger to do something else. It's like every time I feel demotivated I get elevated to a new role.  Now I'm in charge of Application support alongside my regular role as a Senior Software Developer, pushed along in spite of my disinterested efforts. The problem is I don't do half, typically throwing myself at whatever to get things done - a trait you can't successfully hide.  A big issue arises, peoples get told to come to me. Brainstorming required, Yup, me. Can't get away from the shits.


No, I am grateful, the increased dough meaning the famz can live comfortably.  But time is slipping away, things to do, goals to achieve outside of work piling up.  Still have all my 2014 planted squarely in my frontal lobe, doesn't make it easier.


Thought more on my boy today, been playing on my mind since yesterday's call from 5-0 missing persons unit.  I have this sense of guilt that I could do more, but know realistically I don't have the bandwidth.  I hope he's OK wherever he may be.  Worrying that he hasn't taken his medication since September 2013 when he went missing.  A few years ago he did this same AWOL thing, but was later found in psychiatric ward in France.  Maybe he's gone back to France.

Thursday, 9 January 2014


Got a call from 5-0 missing persons unit yesterday asking if I knew the whereabouts of one of my boys Chika, said he hadn't been seen or heard from in over 3 months. Chika has been suffering from schizophrenia since his late 20s, a good 15+ years now, and when off medication, he tends to go awol on some random thing. The police officer was a good guy and I could detect professional empathy in his voice. It made me very sad cos I haven't seen Chika in a year plus, the pressure of daily life, family, work. Poor fucking excuses and to think dude was my best friend through University.. Fucked up modern lives we live sometimes.

Dude was A-OK through his teens, no hint of shit. He joined me in London not long after I arrived, and when my brother came over, the crew was complete. We where kings of the world, destined to live forever. 3 years later the schizophrenia hit. Chika was making a good life for himself, working as a supervisor in a big store, studying computing, beautiful girlfriend, ready to make the next move. Schizophrenia Fucked him up big time. At first I was in denial, taking him in, hoping it was depression that will soon lift. But the months passed and no let up. Eventually his family decided to have him committed for psychiatric treatment. That was the last time I saw the Chika I grew up with.

Fate can be one seriously fucked up life stream

Tuesday, 7 January 2014

Pangea's Garden


"PangeasGarden.com is the sanctuary for striking images that pay homage to the exotic beauty of that earthSista that was always close to home. Its a community that celebrates, with pride, Afrocentric and natural beauty, adorned or bare without shame, inhibition or exploitation. Its all about love, respect and adoration for visions of Afrosensuality."

Monday, 6 January 2014

Soul of 2013

Been listening to DJ Vlada Stojanovic's mixes all last year and son is really nice with his.  This mixes captures perfectly all that was good with Neo-soul and conscious Hip Hop in 2013.


Mixcloud.com has become one of my favourite websites, never ceases to amaze on the beautiful mixes that can be found on there.  Mix of the year has got to be this one .. 

Did someone say Braaaaaap!


Monday blues

Actually I feel quite good, early morning convos, black coffee and oats, vitamins and a glass of O.J.  Despite of my not fancying the walk to train station in the lashing rain I am good. Would still take a steam Jacuzzi and some sweet Ganja smoke over it though. Just looked in the sky, can see the early morning sun in a distance, peeking over the rain clouds. Dreams of sun sodden beaches.. I digress

Talking of Ganja, I've held up since NYE  stroke of midnight *shock horror* when I threw away my remaining stash (mind, not before I rolled a ridiculously stupid phattie, seeing in 2014 deliciously stoned the fcuk). I'd gotten into that holiday mode where I was sparking every night, knew I couldn't take that habit into the New Year. My street pharmacist will kill me if I told him I poured London's finest crop down the drain. Out with the old. No, it ain't on my give-up list, but I will do the ital the right way, rolled pure with no tobacco, core meditation, commune with Jah Rastafari. Straight no chaser.  Or some esoteric shit like we do. Never been a big time smoker but very partial to the kick (and sometimes coughing fit) that comes when the lighter burns the tip and the weed smoke hits the lungs, that zen that steals over you as the soul hazes over and.. LOL too early a Monday morning for poetic musings. My wife would have me certified if she reads this.

Funniest moment yesterday. My baby boy is mad shook up over the Christmas tree. It fell over while he tugged a ball of it and he now wouldn't come 10 feet near it. Didn't realise till I shook and adjusted it, causing him to crawl away in raw panic. Aww. Must think its sentient.  Ha! definite signs of growth, he now understands fear

Have a good day people

Saturday, 4 January 2014

vices and voids

The hardest thing about giving up a vice is finding what to replace it with.  I've been smoking for years, a silly habit but the one I've found hardest to break.  Bit of stress? a cigarette. Elation? a cigarette. Chilling? a cigarette.  Its a vice for all occasions and I'm having a fucking time dealing with it.  Like, OK, I've stopped but what next?  As it is four days into the new year of 2014 I'm craving for one. I had all these crazy ideas on d-day, like how I'll go gym 10 times a day, meditate, blah blah, good stuff. Thing is I kinda do all those already.  The void from not smoking is the strangest thing, that chemical withdrawal leaving me feeling very clean but very empty. Anyone else ever felt this way?  Am I the only one?

I know from experience of trying to quit in the past that the weird feeling goes, but it feels different each time. This time around I'm left feeling horny all that time, ain't that fcuking strange? I also have this urge to drink all sorts of herbal teas, like all day long.  A good side effect this time is not craving for strong coffee, I found myself drinking loads, always with a smoke in hand.

I'll revisit all this in eight weeks, the supposed magic number


lol! Resurrection indeed, and what an awesome tune from Common.  Nigga still relevant as fcuk! What?

I cackle because I am actually blogging again - who knew ey?  Had some vicious energy floating in my cipher, preventing me from spitting my bars.  Unexpected.  Writers block.  I'm wrong sometimes and normally the first to hold up my hand, but I cannot reinforce a negative self and strive to be clean.  Had to withdraw into self, meditate, come out the other side.  It's tough but all good, a test of character even.  Some things you can't afford to dwell on like that, the point of being alive is for living, and that's what I will keep doing in 2014.  Still not perfect, baby steps, lots of things I need to do. baby steps ..

But I'm thankful still

Happy 2014