My eager penis fell into a frustrated sleep (1)
“You’re bullshitting me, Uncle John!”
“I’m not bullshitting you, Juliana!”
“I’m not! Swear to God! Cross my heart and hope to die. It happened!”
“You mean say the babe no get hand?”
“I tell you, na only one hand the babe get!”
I burst into laughter.
I couldn’t believe it.
What on earth is happening in our multi-social media these days?
Lies, deceit, fraud, sex and what have you!
Guess you’re wondering what the heck I’m discussing with Uncle John.
I will tell you, but first…Ha! Ha! Ha!
God, I just love a good laugh!
This is the joke.
Imagine preparing yourself as a guy that you’re going to bang a babe senseless…bang her until she’s reeling with shock or pleasure, depending on the type of waves the guy’s one-eyed snake will dish out.
Then you saw her and bam! You’re rooted with shock…your wits leave you momentarily…then you gathered your scattered wits and run like the hounds of hell were after you.
That was what happened to Uncle John.
But Uncle John is just being the drama king here.
I mean, does a babe need to have two hands to be able to be good in bed?
What have two hands got to do with her honey well?
Is there any difference between the ‘Honeywell’ of a one-handed babe and that of a babe with two hands?
Okay!…okay!…I can see you’re getting impatient to understand the nonsense I’m talking about.
It’s Facebook Oh! There’s so much fraud attached to it these days. I wonder why!
Human beings are terrible creatures.
They always misuse anything good. But tell me, who is misusing Facebook?
Is it the guy who connects with a babe or the babe who allows herself to be led into the slaughter slab of the guy’s bedroom?
Here’s the scenario of what happened.
I don’t know whether Uncle John joined Facebook just for fun or to connect with babes.
I no dey inside the guy’s mind.
I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer an explanation.
Anyway, he saw this pretty babe’s profile on Facebook, connected with her and they soon became friends.
I heard that on her profile, she had a flowing hairstyle, a lovely smile and the face of an angel.
A face a guy can die for…a body a guy will always salivate and dream of…
Juliana Francis didn’t know how many days, weeks or months they chatted before they agreed to meet.
Uncle John deliberately went there late.
When he drove into the eatery of the venue agreed, he didn’t immediately jump out of his car.
He tried to observe the babe unobserved.
His eyes logged unto her…BAM!…a gong of alarm went off in his bed…he couldn’t believe his eyes.
The girl he had been dreaming of to bang had one hand! The other hand was noticeably missing…either chopped off…or born that way?
How had he missed seeing it on her profile?
Ha! Yes, her ‘flowing hair’ covered the missing arm!
Whatever, Uncle John didn’t wait to know. He reversed his car and drove out of the place like the hounds of hell were after him.
He was furious…he was angry.
He got home, called and gave her a piece of his mind.
His anger was not so much that he missed a good bang, but that she was deceitful right from the beginning.
He didn’t see anything wrong in banging a babe with one hand, he said- I didn’t believe him.
Why the fuss then?
He said he was pissed that she didn’t deem it fit to tell him since they had been connecting and chatting that she was one-handed.
Another experience from another guy…let him tell the story himself.
“We met on Facebook. We started chatting and got on so well. We exchanged numbers. She used to call me every midnight. It was so sweet.
“A few months later, I invited her to come around for us to formalise the relationship. She was so happy and I was also happy because I had become fond of her. We fixed a day to meet at my place. I gave her directions on how to get to my place. It was on a Saturday, 4 pm to be precise. I asked her to call me on my line once she gets to Maryland.
“A few minutes after 4 pm, she called that she was already at Maryland. I asked her to give me 10 minutes so that I would soon be with her. My cousin Eddy went with me. I decided to call her to find out the type of clothes she was putting on.
“I called again when I got to the venue and noticed one overly matured woman waiting impatiently by the entrance of the eatery. My heart jumped in fear.
“Could she be the one? God please no! Never!
Don’t let this Iya Agba be the babe oh!
“I called and waited. Sure enough, Iya Agba picked up the call. Awww…men! My eager manhood dropped off into a frustrated sleep. How could she trick me so! She’s one of those women who seem to have a phobia of growing old. She was in a spaghetti top and arse-fitting jeans. Her make-up was too heavy…fixed nails, fake eyelashes and the rest of the war paint! Her stomach was sagging, a sign that she must have been through with babies. Her boobs were also straining to let loose from the bra leash.
“Even though the bra she wore was, ‘Oshodi Oke’ of a sort, it was valiantly trying to urge the boobs to jettison the status quo, but the boobs stubborn maintained the status quo, looking downward in defeat.
But even all these fineries couldn’t hide the fact that she was an old woman!
“I was in my car, watching her. She was the exact opposite of the person I saw on Facebook…the lady I fell in love with.
“I told my cousin to reverse the car. We drove off. Yes, I left her standing and waiting at the front of the eatery. She called for several hours but I didn’t pick up. I was filled with righteous anger.
“I revisited her profile again. I came to the conclusion that she used one of her daughter’s pictures as her profile pictures. I mailed her an angry mail immediately.
“I said to her: “You should have told me that you’re looking for a man who will help you to train up your children. I know that you’re a mother of over six children…Nonsense! Do you think I don’t know? I know you!”
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