As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been told I talk a lotta shit. Yep, that’s right…a shit load of shitty shit. Funny shit actually! I don’t walk like Charlie Chaplin neither do I have a facial expression similar to that of Mr. Ibu. Actually, it’s none of that! I mean, I was just being amusing in a comical way. Brethren, I hope you get my point? Fine, I know you don’t. You know what; the summary of the whole twaddle and claptrap literary monologue is this – I could make people laugh even when they didn’t want to.
At an early age, I even had the guts to tell a joke about my dad’s white beards. When the words left my lips, I froze abruptly. Everyone suddenly froze too and stared at my dad to see what would happen next. My mum gave me the eye as if she was saying: “Ngwa, you see yourself now. You see what you have done? You have insulted your father. Today na today”. And I gave her the eye as if I was saying: “But Malle, it was only a joke na. Abeg, help me beg am o”.
I expected to get a couple of blows to the face though. But surprisingly, after a couple of seconds had passed, the old man burst out laughing and gave me a pat on the back. Everyone followed suit and laughed except me. I was puzzled. Maybe the blows would still come later after the laughter must have died down.
I didn’t think that was a form of validation. But from that moment onwards, I never feared yabbing anyone. If I didn’t get knocked out by my old man, then nobody in this godforsaken world would dare knock me out if I told a nasty joke about him/her.
So every time I was chilling at a bar, I would reel out jokes like a politician sharing recharge cards at a rally in Osogbo. And God punish devil, if I come drink like 4 or 5 green boo, walahi, e don be for that day. Even in commercial buses, I would yab strangers, yab the conductor, yab the driver, yab the doggaman selling fake medicine…and any freaking soul and thing that came to mind on the spot. One time, the driver got so angry that he threatened to plunge inside a lagoon if I persisted with the jokes. For where…ogbeni calm down jor, no be all of us go die inside the lagoon! Abi mammy-water go save only you, leave the rest of us!
And the good news was that in spite of all these mischievous escapades, I never got harassed by anyone. So the devil kept pushing me until I landed in hot soup some years later. I yabbed a fine pretty Juliet-Ibrahim-ish sister while on a date with her.
At that time, I had started gathering more morale than I had in the past. So there I was at a restaurant with this fine chic on a date set up by Mother Mary. Gracious Lord, she was damn too fine. So we placed our orders, and then waited to be served. I thought I couldn’t just keep quiet and stare at her. So I decided to tell jokes so as to start up a conversation, keep her happy and engaged before the meal arrived.
Then I opened my mouth and garbage started to fly out. I told her when she smiled, her teeth looked like those of Freddy Krueger. I told her the weavon on her head looked so good it kinda reminded me of the hair on my Grandma’s while she laid in state. I said other shit from my shitty mouth. And before I could say Jack, she stood up angrily and left. Thank goodness she didn’t even slap me sef.
So I learnt an invaluable lesson on that day. And I decided to share with you guys today. So below are a few conversation topics you shouldn’t bring up while on a date with a prospective bae. Even if the devil keeps pushing you to discuss these stuff, resist him and he will flee from you.
Any topic that has to do with talking shit: Any topic that has subliminal or even direct jibes: stuff about her phucked up teeth, her sagging boobs, her flat derriere, you know – shit like that. NEVER. EVER. BRING. THAT. UP. OK? Yep, that’s right…’cos you are only encouraging her to question your sanity.
I mean no one is perfect. And while on a date with a prospective bae, it is time to get to know each other. There are a lotta fun things to talk about. How about your favorite movies (if talk don finish)? Beyoncè’s latest album nko? For Pete’s sakes, there are plenty gist to grab from Naija twitter instead of engaging in sermons about imperfections, bow legs, short stature and other shit. Confam ni!
Banging skills/bedmatics/sexercise: Alright, okunrin meta ataabo, we heard the girl you banged last time at Akoka was speaking in ancient tongues for three days straight. We also know the last time you had that other chic on the sofa, she couldn’t stand up till two hours later. OK? We get that; your destiny could have been having your videos on Pornhub if you were in a more liberal society. We get it…Aiit!
But don’t just bring up such a topic for discussion on a date with a prospective bae. Even if she tells you her name is GoGoFukMe, or Afrocandy, don’t assume that is an open invitation to brag about your banging game and prolly get you some before the day is over. Nah, Nah, Nah! Shit doesn’t work that way. Because once you do so, she will simply smile and stand up. And then you will think she is about to grab your schlong and unbutton your shirt inside restaurant. You will start licking your thick dark ponmo lips and be imagining those awesome scenes you saw in a movie playing out in the restaurant with her. Lie, Lie! She is simply trying to bail out on you before ordinary talk will turn to forceful penetration. Farabale!
Your Ex and why you broke up with her: Nope, don’t do this. That’s like putting the fingah on yo’ trigga. This is simply not necessary. The past is the past and you gotta let bygone be bygone. Even if she stylishly tries to get you talking, always remember that a real brother doesn’t snitch. Because if you open your mouth to spill your past romantic beans and drop dimes on your ex, it will give her an inkling on how much of an ‘Ayyy-Whole’ you are.
Marriage/mother-in-law/making babies/all that kinda marriage stuffs: Haba? You never finish first date sef. Your blood don dey hot already…you want to jump all the steps in the dating game and land at the final bus stop of marriage.
No nah! My brother, things don’t work that way! You gotta take this ish one step at a time. And don’t come up with lame lines about how her two eyeballs remind you of the twins you hope to have with her. Who does that? Don’t worry Bro, when you get to the marriage bridge, there must be a way to cross it. Sneh!
Wealth/affluence: My brother, even if you are the richest homeboy amongst your Nwanna. And you own two shops at Alaba, with branches at Onitsha and Asaba. Or the number of boys doing Boi-Boi under your tutelage is plenty. We get it…you are sponsoring numerous poor kids in secondary school. Shoro Niyen? Who send you message? There is no need to tell her that your container at the high sea is not the usual 40 feet (rather, it is 80 feet).
Don’t go about blowing your trumpet, my brother. Humility is the key. She will eventually find out for herself who you are. OK? So just allow the date to progress seamlessly and charm her rather effortlessly. Ezege!
More topics that have to do with talking more shit: Self explanatory, isn’t it? You’ll get so drunk on cheap white wine. And then you think your mouth is concurring with your brain at that moment. But you don’t know that they are worlds apart. And then you open your mouth and talk more shit.
Don’t be surprised when she angrily brings out special Orile-Made Rat Poison and puts inside the remaining wine for you to drink and go and die. Are you surprised? Don’t be! Because some ladies carry such in their purse while going on dates so as to quickly end an irritating conversion. Who dialogue don epp? Obago!
Word to Mutha: So all ye good folks, we are done with our sermon. You just gotta avoid such topics like an Egyptian plague when you meet a prospective bae. I know sometimes the voice in your head might coerce you into saying some lame shit. So whatchu’ gon do? Just do your best and resist the Devil and you will be on course to having a lovely relationship with your new bae afterwards. Oya Dab!
Image via Youth Village