Monday, September 15, 2008


It was hard to place when he died.

A minute earlier I had stood unnoticed beside him on the edge of the road.
He was waiting for the traffic lights to turn red so he could safely cross. We were not alone. Other pedestrians hovered around. It was a couple of minutes after 4 and most had the tired look of frustrated workers who would give anything to stay at home and explore the possibilities of regaining sanity. With slightly hunched backs, they clutched their worn out briefcases impatiently, their eyes focused almost permanently on the lights. The god for the moment were those traffic lights.
His rule was law. Right now his rule was red. They awaited his green.
Like them he had a briefcase as well. A worn out leather affair which sported a tiny sticker announcing ,to any who cared to read, that he was employed in those most ambivalent of jobs. Logistics and Accounting Resources.
If the tell tale wires didn’t betray him, his gentle bob from side to side let everyone in on his estrangement from this noisy impatient world. He whistled inaudibly as he listened to some song on his IPod.
He went everywhere with the IPod. I had heard him say a couple of times that it kept him sane at work. Having an IPod, he often said, made his life a lot easier.
It certainly helped killing him.

The truck roared down the road flying towards the junction. Eager to round up for the day, the driver didn’t pay attention to the traffic light as he approached. That was his first mistake. He only noticed the red light a couple of meters before the junction. He panicked and attempted to slow down quickly to correct his oversight. He slammed on his breaks.
That was his second mistake.
The truck went into a slide. Shrieking loudly it fishtailed across the road sending neighboring pedestrians into a survival run. People screamed. The air was suddenly filled with shouts of warning, shock and Outrage. He didn’t hear any of them.
Once the lights turned green he took a casually step into the streets whistling the chorus of his favorite song. He was feeling in a good mood and why not? In another 5 minutes he would have been home.
If the truck hadn’t hit him.

3500 kilos of uncontrolled metal slammed into him. The IPod was an instant victim. It shattered beneath the force breaking it into a thousand pieces which mixed easily with his shattered bone. Pain burst into his beautiful world of music. All of a sudden his image of home was gone replaced by one of flying glass, whirling surroundings and blinding pain. The force of the impact tossed him into the air like a bean bag kicked by an angry kid. There was a stream of red as he flew. His Mind barely had time to comprehend what was happening before he hit the floor with a resounding slap echoed by the screams of horror from the pedestrians. The force of the landing cracked a rib. He slid to a stop with his leg bent at an unnaturally crooked angle, he didn’t notice it yet but he had left three of his toes behind.
Oh god he silently gasped battling the streaming pain.
And then the cars hit him.

The toss has sent him into the opposite green lane. Cars swerved to avoid hitting the sprawled man but they weren’t quick enough. Three cars ran over him. Sending his body flaying across the highway. A sickening streak of blood marking his trample skid.
By the time traffic came to a shocked stop it was over.
It was pretty hard to place when he died. In five seconds he had suffered an unbelievable sequence of physical trauma. He had so many broken bones the doctors would need to have a series of operations before they could repair him. He would be in bed for months just trying to flex his remaining two toes if he had survived. But he didn’t.
He was dead.

I made my way slowly across the street.
There really was no need to hurry. Most people were in stunned shock, others had rushed over and were crowded around his body wondering how quickly they could get him to the hospital. They needn’t have bothered. He was as dead as a stone cast into an ice pond.
I didn’t say this because I could see the gaping hole through his side, or I already knew about the fractured spine which the doctors would later find. I knew he was dead for certain because he was meant to be.
It was the reason I was here.
was the reason I was here.
I had come expressively for him. Like a driver waiting at the arrival airport I had come to pick him up.
I was his assigned escort angel.

I stood beside his dead body and watched his living soul come to terms with the suddenness of its release. After a couple of blinks his eyes came to rest on me. They widened in alarm.
“Am I…”
“Dead?” I finished for him. I nodded my head gravely.”Yes. Yes you are.”
He scowled at me.
“I was going to say naked. Am I naked?”
I stepped back in surprise.
“Well, no….I don’t think you are. You look okay to me. A bit hairy but that’s accepted fashion in heaven.”
He looked quickly at me.
I read the question in his eyes.
“Yes.” I confirmed. “You’re going to heaven. You lived a righteous life.”
He closed his eyes with what I thought was joy. I was wrong. He opened them a second later and the fury in them stunned me. He glared at me and said in an extremely clear voice.
“Sod off!”
“What?” I gasped.
“Get lost. I’m not going to heaven. Not now at least. Come back in another 50 years. I should be ready by then.” He got up and dusted himself down.
Ordinary I would have been amused. Our celestial gowns are pretty neat stuff. It was almost impossible to get them dirty. Even Lucifer (heretofore to be referred to as “whatshisface”) was impressed with it. Thousands of years of wearing it in hell and he still looked clean whenever he stopped by for a debate. But I wasn’t in a mood to talk about the benefits of wearing the celestial robe. Not when I had a soul who was claiming he didn’t want it.
He was walking away from the accident site. I ran after him quickly. For a soul who had just suffered an accident he was in pretty good shape.
“Sir …” I began as I reached him..
“Quit that. You know my name. It’s Nnamdi.” He looked across at me “Stop being so formal. You’re an angel aren’t you? When the angels came to meet Mary they didn’t say “Ma’m you’ll be handed a young Sir by Immaculate Conception. We’d prefer if you called the young Master, Jesus. Please sign here if you approve.
I gasped and looked around quickly.
He closed his eyes in irritation and kept on walking. I wondered where he was heading too.
“…Nnamdi. We really have to go.” I said again.
“No we don’t. I’m not going anywhere. I already told you that.” He snapped at me.
What’s your name?” He asked.
“Mourinho.” I replied.
“Okay.” He said. “Mourinho...Fuck off!”
The thing about swearing was that it wasn’t always a sin. It was so hard to decide where exactly one placed these loud exclamations by humans. Humans considered swearing as wrong and too some extent they were right. Using the lord’s name in vain was a sin. But where did you place scenarios where people asked you to go sleep with someone. It was clearly an offered suggestion. Was it a sin? That was unclear. To decide that you had to be aware of the facts surrounding the question. What was his relationship with the person who yelled “FUCK YOU!”? If it was his wife did it make it okay? If she meant it as a joke did it make it okay? Even more importantly, if it was none of the above why wasn’t it okay. When a person yelled out the words SHIT and FUCK he was deemed to be in the wrong by humans. But in the ethereal the jury was still out on how exactly it qualified as a sin.
SHIT and FUCK were body functions experienced by every human. Why was saying it a bad thing? Most humans were offended by mouthed utterances with such words and yet they smiled and laughed when they talked about words like SEXY and MONEY. Two words that had us angels cringing in our boots over the infinity of possibilities.
What was wrong with yelling out occasional words that meant nothing really? Why couldn’t a person yell out “SHIT” when he fell down a flight of stairs? When Jesus was being crucified I doubted he whistled “Whistle whilst you work.
It was a running debate amongst us Angels. When did cussing go from being an expression of emotion to a damnation of your soul?
“Damn you” was clearly a sin, but” Fuck off?
How did one handle that?

“You don’t want to go to heaven.” I asked slowly. It was the first time I had come across a soul who wasn’t excited about going to heaven. Most of the time they were eager to rush home. Nnamdi was something different.
He sighed and slowed down in front of a door.
“No... Well yes. Yes I do.”
He looked at me and walked right through the door.
We were standing in a room that appeared to be the parlor. In the corner a TV was set on some local Cartoon cable channel. The room was resultantly filled with the high pitched chatter and happy notes of kiddy fun. In a corner sat a young girl. She looked to be in her late teens. Her eyes were pale behind the glasses she was wearing. Propped up against her knee, she was reading from a book. Her look was one of intense concentration.
“I do want to go. But I can’t. Because of her .I can’t leave her behind.” Nnamdi’s eyes clouded over. “She is my daughter.”
”Your wife….” I began.
“Is dead?” He finished for me. “Yes she is, she died two years ago.”
I pretended to scowl.
“I was going to say Not naked. Your wife is not naked.”
He smiled for the first time and then broke into a chuckle.
“She’s in heaven. Dressed are you are.” I said.
“That’s good. I’m glad.” Nnamdi said staring at his daughter. “But I really can’t leave her here. I’m all she has in the world now. If you take me now who will take care of her?” He looked at me quickly “Don’t you dare say Angels!”
I remained quiet and pondered the situation.
“I’m serious Mourinho. I’m not going to heaven. I’d rather go to hell than spend one minute in heaven with my daughter left behind. She is too young to go to through life alone. I’m all she has right now. You can’t take me. I’d go to hell first” He said.
There was a loud whoosh and all of a sudden fire flashed all around us. Suddenly the room was filled with the glare of bright burning fire. I could feel the soft heat emanating from his body. I peered through the fire at the new person who had just joined us.
“My name is Michael.” Angel Michael said.
Nnamdi nodded his head. His face had a stunned look. I didn’t blame him. The chariot of fire was an incredible vehicle to behold. The burning horses pawed the ground softly. Resplendent in their flaming beauty. Talk about smoking hot.
“How come you don’t have one of these things?” he asked me admiring the burning Chariot.
I blushed.
Angel Michael caught it and frowned. I felt like kicking myself in the wings. Blushing in front of archangel. It wasn’t going to look good on my file. He turned from me to Nnamdi.
“We’re sending you back.” Angel Michael said softly.
The change on Nnamdi face was incredible. Suddenly his eyes moistened with joy, the frown on his face quickly replaced by a radiant smile.
“Don’t be too happy. Your body is in pretty bad shape. We’ll fix your spine and hasten your healing but it’s still going to take months before you’re okay. You’ll have to walk with a limp for the rest of your life.” He peered at Nnamdi.” that shouldn’t bother you.”
“It doesn’t.”
Angel Michael nodded.
“That’s good then. Here is what should bother you. It’s not easy getting into heaven. Ask Moses. All that good and he almost didn’t make it. You’re going to have to work very hard to make sure you get in a second time. The demons are unto you now. They’ll work over time to frustrate you into falling. They’ll taunt you with your condition. Anything to make you falter.” Michael rubbed a hand on one of the horses Mane. “Don’t.” He warned.
Nnamdi nodded.
Angel Michael beamed and then pulled out a parchment with an accompanying quill.
“Very well then. One last thing to do and you’re good to go. You need to sign your release form. Nothing special. Protocol you understand. Just a simple disclaimer. You are aware of your actions; you are sound of mind and in good health... of course you are. ..You’re dead. Ha Ha.”
I watched Nnamdi ass he signed whilst Michael chatted merrily.
I was moved about how much he cared for his daughter. The last three months I had witnessed acts of human sacrifices that had stirred me. I had seen men starve for their family. I had seen mothers suffer unspeakable acts of torture so they could protect their children. I had see brothers shiver so their sisters could be warm. But this… a father giving up his position in heaven just so his daughter could go through life a little happier. This I hadn’t seen. This was love.
Unquestioned. Uncontrolled. Unconditional. Uncanny.

And then it was time for him to go.
“It was nice meeting you Mourinho.” He said with a smile.
I nodded my head. I was at loss what to say to him. Goodbyes were not something I was used too.
And then I had an idea.
“Sod off!!” I said.
He broke into a chuckle, a soft rumble which grew into loud laughter. His face was contorted with mirth as he laughed really hard. He was still laughing when he vanished. I hoped his body didn’t break out into laughter in the ambulance.

“Nice guy.” Michael said. “If he survives the first five years he’ll definitely be back here.”
He tapped my shoulder and got into the burning chariot.” I’m sorry about that. Every now and then we get people who just don’t want to go to heaven yet. Most of the times we persuade them but when chaps like yours start asking to be sent to hell instead…. Well...You want to just listen to their demands and send them back in.”
I nodded my head sagely. Then a thought occurred to me.
“What did you mean by him surviving the first five years?”
Michael laughed.
“Oh nothing really. His accident was pretty bad. He’s going to need a lot of surgery before he is okay. But eventually he’ll be fine. One thing’s for sure though. He is going to be impotent for at least the next 5 years.”


UndaCovaSista said...

Guess who's back!

Naapali said...

UCS no doubt, at least I wasn't beaten by Bumight

Anonymous said...

word has it you're a celebrity writer now :P

bumight said...

@naapali & UCS: when the cat is away, the mouse (or mice in this case) will come out to play. lol,

I'll be back to read this after my exam.

Naapali said...

I see the hand of Atutu in this one, and by that I mean the surprise element. I know you had promised another Mourinho piece but up until the time you mentioned you had come for him, I assumed this really happened on Carlang's way home from work. Well done with that. I was completely into the story by that point.

I thought the digression into the meaning of words/cussing was interesting however overly long. It seemed to drag on and take away from the pace and rhythm that you had developed.

I like how you have over the last few pieces made Mourinho real. We can understand his blushing before the Archangel because we know he is a little unsure of himself.

Well done bro. I see a collection of short stories based on the tribulations of a young angel in Nigeria forming.

Anonymous said...

try as i may to fight it,
i absolutely LOVE the way you write.

princesa said...

Such love!
I dont know if i would have given up my chance to go to heaven if i was Nnamdi sha.
This world tire person abeg.

nice one as always carl.

badderchic said...


Jaycee said...

This is pay-back for any long posts I've written...

But since u're such an excellent writer...I must finish this tori tonight o...:) (brb)

bumight said...

i'm back!

I agree with Naapali that the digression was a lil bit long. i got so caught up in it (quite interesting concept if i might say), that I almost lost track of the story.

not many people would pass up the opportunity to go to heaven, but wht a price to pay for that!

Nine said...

Very nice,man.You actually had me going for the first couple of paragraphs.Nice trick ending,too.Got me smiling.

Of course,being me,I have a minor nitpick(or two).A car weighs somewhere in the region of three tons,so a truck/lorry/gwongworo should weigh more.Just a technical detail,but one that caught my eye.The impotence thing is a smaller detail and not quite so obvious.

All in all,I think I like your Mourinho stories.May I have another:)?

NigerianDramaQueen said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
NigerianDramaQueen said...

Carlang, this was a great piece for so many reasons:
*I thought this was one of your real experiences, until the he died.
*I actually enjoyed the diversion on swear words. I never ever use the "F" word-and you made me think about it for a minute. Never thought of it in that way...
*The part about it being harder for him to get into heaven the 2nd time is so true, on a spiritual level.
*I was especially touched when he refused to stay in heaven because he wouldnt leave his daughter. It brought back so many memories that I wont get into...

You should compile all your angel stories and put them on your sidebar or something. I really enjoyed this-now I gotta get back to studying...adios amigo!

Shubby Doo said...

Loved it
Loved it
Loved it

I knew this was about Murinho from the 1st line…

Agree with naapali…the bit about rights and wrongs of cussing was a tad long…but I did like the concept cause I’ve often thought about it

awww @ Nnamdi choosing to go back… even if the demons will work over time to try and make him loose his place in heaven should he get it back after he has given it up… wow @ heaven letting him go back… 2 me this is absolute love…the concept reminds me of the line ‘"but already my desire and my will were being turned like a wheel, all at one speed by the Love that turns the sun and all the other stars".

@ least 5 yrs of impotency… is that a representation of purgatory?

this in a sense is a divine comedy….I think even Dante proud of your efforts…one thing that niggles me is that this will only ever explore human nature from the point of view of an angel….or explore divinity from the point of view of an seraph turned angel…that in itself limits where this can go…consider an exchange with an agent of the dark side at some point…to understand what you are… you must also understand what you are not…

Afrobabe said...

God...this is long,...where do I start?

Esmeralda said...

Beautiful Carl!

the surprise element worked very well, i was expecting a normal story until mortified Mourinho came up. impressive.

i especially like your descriptions, heaven, the chariot of fire (wow, almost thought u'd seen one, the guy's pain at the scene, Mourinho's feelings etc.

unlike Naaps, i find the digression into the meaning of cussing insightful. it's always good to leave ur readers with something to ponder upon.

remove the typos such as "ASS" instead of "as" and ish, and for me this story works perfectly.

can we have a sequel soon?

Esmeralda said...

also look out for ur use of past and present -

"The toss has sent him into the opposite green lane." that shoulda been "had"

"...Sending his body flaying across the highway" , i'm guessing u meant "flailing"

"...I had come expressively for him", u probably meant "expressly" or "exclusively" right?

before u kick me out for nitpicking, I'M OUT...!

rayo said...

carl, r u gonna give me lessons or what? u r so so good. actually thot twas non-fiction @ d beginning,great writing carl!

Afrobabe said...

worth the lenght....really worth it..

I have a good mind to throw my ipod away...

That was the scariest most graphic detail of cause of death by ipod story I have ever had the misfortune to read!!!

still lmao @shit and fuck being body functions...lmao @ Moses almost not making it...

Oh my God..Carlang you are a trip...

impotent!!!well he wont need that section for a while with his body all over the place...

Naapali said...

@ Esmeragda
- I also enjoyed the digression as I stated, IMO it just became long and took from the pace. so no flog me o!

Esmeralda said...

Doc, ema binu sir. dont mind me and my forceful way of passing my point across, it's too much passion. lol @ flogging u.

ablackjamesbond said... made me laff again, has been a drag today.

miz-cynic said...

i have to come back......i dont hv internet connection to read. i'll read larer bye.

mizchif said...

My Darling, darling Carl!

Wonderful piece as usual.

My eyes were actualy misting over, thinking u'd witnessed such a gory murder, only for MOURINHO to appear.

Lovely work!

Sherri said...

me think Mourinho needs a wing plucking joh!
which kain angel lets his assignment go thru such trauma?

who's to blame for not fully briefing him?

how are u luv?

ogonna said...

hey carl. introduced someone to ur writing. he fell in love immediately. told him u arent as nice as u sound. that ure, in fact, evil incarnate. unfortunately, he fell more in love!!! so, if u start getting strange calls in the middle of the night (thank God for mtn midnight call), dont say i didnt warn u

miz-cynic said...

ulled this offi think i'm in love with ur mind.wonderful post , only carlang could have pulled this off. whts the theme of fourteenth and serenity, are they true stories or fictitious?

Rita said...

OMG...This is beautiful...You write so well...So many lessons I've learned from this story...BRB...

Afronuts said...

Brilliant story!

You do it soo well!

~Sirius~ said...

Dear FrogBoy,

The art of writing such a piece can only be found in a few people, nicely done. I can understand why the posts are few and far between ~ you and a certain blogger write very much alike~ Freaksho (don't kill me), but i'm sure he's tired of hearing that.


Free-flowing Florida said...

wot am still trying to get is: is it his impotence dat will make d first 5 years tough??? & y?

Mogaji said...

Haha that was hilarious the paragraph on curse words was not really necessary slowed down the pace of the post. Love the slight irreverence of death, angels heaven and hell.

Carlang said...

I'm rushing through my replies so please forgive any spelling errors.( aka Typos.)
You hear that ESMERELDA?

@ Undacovasista:
The sista from the agency?

I;ve reread the story and i think you have a point.
Mid way through my cuss paragraph i began to sense that the angle was good enough to develop for a single story. But by then it was too late to stop. My fingers kept moving, giving life to the growing bean stalk and as i typed the last line i was too attached to the story to kill part of it.
I am weak!

@ Princessa:
Thanks dear,
How was the SBR?
I'm still dying for those Bikini shots of you that you didnt promise me,
When do they come up?

You're right. it is an interesting concept. Maybe one of these days i will develop it into something stronger. Preferably without the interefering wings of the angel Mourinho.
How are exams coming along?
Results out yet?

I love nitpickers.
They stare at my fur and fuss over it in a bid to make it shinier.
What;s not to love.
Thanks for the pointers.
i corrected one of them.
Read through and see if you can spot it.
More nitpicking wouldnt be half bad either...

Ah study..
One of the 13 plagues of Egypt.
The last if i remember correctly..
How are you dear.
I agree with you that the paragraph on cussing was interesting. however i think Naps, bumight and a couple others might have a point. It does drag on a bit and might distract readers from the rest of the story.
Not you though.
You dug in and continued reading through it to the very end.

Mon dieu.
I fear for your study books.

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

I wish you hadnt mentioned it. i was going to actually start on the demon post when next i visited life in the ethereal.
Now you've gone and runied the surprise angle.
You werent taken you say. i;m not surprised. I had you in mind the day i decided to write it.

The five years is a bit of a mystery for me.
Once Nnamdi started cussing my Doppelganger Karl frowned and said to me..
He isnt going to get away with that is he?
I thought about it and agreed.
I suggested 3.
He demanded 10.
We settled on 5.

God i hate Typos.
it;s going to be the derth of me one of these day.

Thanks for your comments.
I think, in the end ,the paragrapnh on the cussing depends a lot on the reader.
It was a good paragraph.
But maybe it ran too long.
I value what you pointed out though and i agree with you. Digressions are fun.( you hear that Naps?)
Both of you.

Thanks. I started the paragraph on cussing as a simple sentence. Midway through i got carried away and ended up with a tumor that i was to weak to excise.
Glad you enjoyed it though.

@ Sirius:
We write alike?
freaksho and I?
That;s a compliment isnt it? I;m glad you enjoyed the story. I certainly had fun writng it.

@freeflowing florida:
Why would it be difficult if he cant have sex for five years?
I dont know!
I'll ask Micheal.

Thanks dear.
I'm Really glad you liked it. I've been to your blog. You write pretty interesting stuff yourself.

You should see Naps for that.
I;m just a struggling writer.

@ Afrobabe:
Thanks darling. I;m so glad you liked it.
Really, you think it;s okay for him being without sex that long?
( and how isthat side of you , young miss?)
Dont throw the IPOD away.
Recycle it.
I'll send you my address

Mr Bond.
Glad you liked it.
How have you been these days?

Glad you liked it. I think everyone has Mourinho by them. They come sweeping in when we;re having a bad day and trick the ice cream man into giving us a double helping for only the price of one.

I;m fine darling.
Wing plucking?
O ti o. The poor guy can even fly and you're talking about plucking his wings.
Why now?
How about you?
how Body?

You didnt!
Thanks for standing by me. Half way at least.
What;s up. You're giving my number out to strange men. What am i going to tell my boyfreind now?

No they;re not. We ( the contributing writers of 14th and Serenity) just built character around the street. All the characters are imaginary.
The writers...sadly are not.
Glad you liked the story.

I do do I?
Much obliged.



hey I heard you were published in a Naija magazine. Congrats!!!!

onydchic said...

OMG, that was soooo good Carrrrrrllll, will you marry me ?!?!?!

No, seriously. I've been avoiding this post cos it was long, but once I started i didn't feel it. You should write a book. And give me lessons.

I'm still open on the marriage proposal.

Shubby Doo said...

@carlang – this is slightly off topic but…just like the terms jumbo shrimp (allow me abeg I love food jare)… wireless cable… and mercy killing…the term 'cheap yacht' is an oxymoron (which in itself is an oxymoron)…

I used to live very near a 'Sunseeker' dealer… so everyday on the way to work, I would see huge luxurious and stylish yachts…those things are worth it… so whip out the credit card Carl & choose life long debt (possibly the kind that your grandchildren will finish paying off)… do it for love…do it for Andromeda ;-)

Shubby Doo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Shubby Doo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Shubby Doo said...

@carlang - It was the title that made me suspect Murinho… but I thought it would have something to do with the underworld… or chaos… hence my schpill… I guess it kinda did because heaven prevents chaos by allowing Nnamdi to go back…

Sorry hun if I ruined the surprise… but hey…great minds!

Carl with a C has a doppelganger called Karl with a K… lol… u really are a hoot!

Jarrai said...

This was nice..really nice. Enjoyed the suspence and the graphic was as if i was watching a movie...

lol@sod off to an angel, wow the human spirit lives on even in death...i guess we are all wonderfully and fearfully made :)

Mehn..i am so taking my ipod off when crossing the road now!

Afrobabe said...

Errrmmm that side of me is struggling badly...

but haven't fallen off the band wagon yet...

Carlang said...

@ shubbydoo:
Depressing Blogger.
Howz that for your Oxymoron collection?

I figured Erebus would be a dead give away when i chose the title but i hoped my late introduction off Mourinho would help.
I dont know about great minds.
I;ve been into mine. It's a a tidy jungle in there. but a jungle none the less'

I;m not sure about love.
If i did whip out my shivering card and actually paid for a Yatch for Andromeda we would have no children.
No way would i allow her share her attention with intruding children.
She would wake up in the morning.
Stare at my lovely face.
Tell me how much she loved me.
And then give me a quick kiss before the guards dragged me back to my prison cell where the judge had condemened me for the next 30 years.

Thanks. How did you get to hear that?
It was nothing really special. Just silly scribblings.

I dont know about those.It has been my observations that most bloggers think they cant write..
But really they can.
Dont look now but you're a blogger.

Marriage proposal?
Ask me again in another two years.
I must warn you though.
I might be a passable writer.
But I;m a terrible kisser.

At this rate apple is going to sue me for interfereing with their market.
They actually depend on people having accidents with their IPod so that they come back to buy new ones.
It;s company policy.
I believe they call it "The Circle of Life."

I throway salute!
Another 4 months and you would have qualified to join out esteemed assosication.
You get a free Tshirt then and a solar powered vibrator.

@ Shubbydoo:
p.s I checked.
"Shubbydoo" is an oxymoron in Mandarin tibetian grendhei.
It means "The wise one who gives bad advise."

Afrobabe said...

lmao @ solar powered vibrator...If my prize is a vibrator, pray what good is abstinance???

Naapali said...

@ Afrobabe
- there I was thinking you would be concerned about the solar power bit and having to use it in the glowing daylight.

@ Carl
- I loved the digression, I love digressions, Saramago is the master digressor, the challenge with them is to avoid them affecting the pace of the story they digressed from.
- I know you know I love the story, digression and all
- Erebus did make me wonder, but nevertheless, I am not surprised seeing Erebus as the title of a post on your blog.
- considering you once left me a comment regarding Cerberus on mine.
- we should talk soon.

Shubby Doo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Shubby Doo said...

@carlang – bad advice…really?...hmmm…bet Karl doesn’t think so...

So I was so hurt by this… depressed actually… I sought guidance from my shaolin monk (whose whole way of living is an oxymoron). He thinks your Tibetan has his Hindi mixed up with his Mandarin…

shubby doo I’m told means ‘song to enlightenment’…he tells me your name is very special… he says you are ‘carl within carlang’… I asked for a translation…apparently yours means…. ‘hard strength within long coat’…an image ‘flashed’ into my head…*blushing*…all I can say is Andromeda is very lucky indeed…4get the yacht sweetie…I’m sure she’d be happy with just a BMW.

NigerianDramaQueen said...

okay this whole staying mad @ you (more like jealous:-) is not working...I'm such a weakling...

Buttercup said...

wow..that was such a ghastly accident!

its so wonderful how he sacrificed heaven for his daughter..i really hope he makes it back..oh i forgot, this is fiction..

makes me wary of goin out with my ipod now..

LMAO @ mourinho sayin "Sod off!"

this was really good carl!

Mz. Dee said...

This was too mad.. nearly had me in tears.

Ade Adeyemi said...

wow! This is probably the most enjoyable, interesting and descriptive piece I've read in a minute. Absolutely loved it. Will be back

Ade Adeyemi said...

wow! This is probably the most enjoyable, interesting and descriptive piece I've read in a minute. Absolutely loved it. Will be back

N.I.M.M.O said...

Beautiful post as usual.

I will like to know which magazine actually published your story because I had just introduced your writings to a friend who publishes a mag too but I guess they were just slackers.

I know I am a little slow but I am still scratching my head at the Nnamdi guy being impotent bit.

Does it mean he was doing his 'daughter' and that was why he wasn't ready to go yet? Abi?

“I do want to go. But I can’t. Because of her .I can’t leave her behind.” Nnamdi’s eyes clouded over. “She is my daughter.”

She would not be the first to be orphaned.

Ms zee said...

found it again... hummmmm

eFJay said...

First time here...
Absolutely loved it, never read anything like it.

Ef babe

Jay girl said...

is this carlang of Ayo ojo?