Yaw!!! How’s the weekend going? Not bad huh? Mine hasn’t really been fun ‘cos I’m broke as fuck. I’m still waiting on my pops to send me my pocket money for the month. You know I got my Friday Fuck’s bill to pay right?...lolz. Besides, I miss my dear chilled bottle of stout too...*sad face*
Anyway, I was chatting with some new pals on twitter late last night and when one of ‘em described my favourite tweets as ‘Sick’, it suddenly occurred to me that I could actually share the stories behind some of these ‘sick’ tweets. That way, you could get to understand the state of mind that I was in when I posted them.
Just before I share the first story anyway, I wanna give a MASSIVE, THUNDEROUS shout-out to every single member of my reading audience in the UNITED KINGDOM. From what I gather on the daily, I’m basically writing for you guys. You peeps are simply awesome and I urge you to please pardon the use of Pidgin English in my posts. It’s simply how I give my stories some flavour.
Oh yeah, many thanks to my readers from other countries as well. I appreciate the encouragement. It’s truly not easy achieving over 3,900 page-views in just 30 days. You guys make me feel like a celebrity and best believe I’m fucking blushing right now….lolz
So now……ON WITH THE FIRST STORY. Enjoy!
It was a hot and sunny Wednesday afternoon and while typing away on my laptop, I suddenly felt my tummy rumble. “Fuck!” it was hunger angrily knocking on my belly wall and I quickly consulted my wallet to determine where I would visit to eat (‘cos I fucking hate to cook). “N2,300? Not bad. But should I visit Iya Basira for some good beans with bread in the bricklayer style as usual or head over to KFC for some finger-licking chicken?” I asked myself. I ended up listening to the voice in my head that said “Bros, consider me, your belle nau! Shey na everyday you wan dey fill me up with beans ni? You never tire for all the mess wey your yansh dey blow? Na wa o! Abeg na KFC I want o!”
I left my comfy room and got on a bike which took me straight to the trendy eatery where I ordered chicken and chips with a bottle of Pepsi and sat down hurriedly to relish my rare meal. No sooner had I taken the first bite than a group of school girls rushed in; giggling and chatting away as they passed me by to reach the counter and order for ice-cream.
With one long glance, I took them all in and quickly became amused. They were seven in number and they were all about the same in average height, except for one particular ‘shorty’ amongst them. They all wore the same uniform and carried the same jerry-curl hairstyle and I wasn’t surprised to observe that their tight skirts barely came close to kissing their knees because they all wore lipsticks on their faces and I quickly guessed that they were seniors.
It was even more amusing to discover the irony on these bitches. Except for the ‘shorty’, all of these girls who were about the same in height carried two mangoes on their chests. The ‘shorty’ on her part, bore the burden of breasts the size of pawpaws and I was certain she got that ‘talent’ from her momma. Thankfully though, none of them had a flat backside, courtesy of their fucking tight skirts which clung to their yanshes.
I decided to mind my own business and continue taking care of my tummy so I paid these future hoes no further attention even when they took a table close to mine. I noticed that one of them kept staring at me in uncertainty and tried to get her friends to do the same.
“Pssst…is that not him? Is he not the one?” I heard shorty say in a hush voice. I gave a quick glance in their direction thinking “Na wa o! Whish of una older sister I climb again o???”
After some more murmuring and glance-stealing, one of the girls brought out her mobile phone and pressed its keypad in enthusiasm while the others leaned so fucking close to her like the answer to their incomprehensible question was there. What seemed like 30 seconds passed and I almost dropped my crispy chicken in sheer surprise to eventually hear the hoe with the phone scream “Oh my gosh! It’s him! It’s HIM! It’s THAT BLOODY PERVERT!!!”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin having been ratted out and focused my gaze on them. They stopped licking their ice-cream too and stared back. It then became a staring contest and many thoughts flew into my skull right there and then. “Wait a minute, how were these lil’ bitches able to identify me when I had already changed my blog profile picture? Again, these lil’ hoes were only secondary school students so how did they even come about my blog in the first fucking place? Do they actually read my shit? Fuck! None of them even looks like she is up to 18 and I fucking censor my posts, so are they blind or something to realise my blog isn’t meant for bitches like them? FUCK!!!”
Just as my thoughts ended, one of the girls stood up and the others followed suit. They all began walking towards where I was and since they all still had their ice-cream cones in hand, I wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk to me or mob me using ice-cream cones as their weapons. In any case, I was prepared to slap their faces silly if they tried anything funny.
As soon as they all got right in front of me, the chick who led the march and who I took as their leader began “So you’re That Bloody Pervert right?”. She spoke with a commanding tone and a straight face, placing one arm around her tummy while the other rested on the folded arm and carried her ice-cream. I wondered what she had in mind.
“Yes I am actually. I certainly hope you don’t want an autograph because you young ladies shouldn’t be reading my blog in the first place” I said sternly.
‘Miss leader’ suddenly gave a loud laughter and her crew struggled to join her in the act. “Very funny!” she started again. “First of all, I don’t need one because I am not a fan of yours. Maybe the others though, especially these two here (pointing at shorty and the chick with the phone). They are the ones who go crazy over your old profile picture and your blog. I only join them in reading your stories because they help me masturbate. Secondly, you don’t get to decide whether I read your blog or not. I do what the fuck I want and read what the fuck I want.”
This response got me thinking like “What-Tha-Fuck!!! This bitch here might need some serious thrashing with the way she was addressing me.” I decided to play it cool still….at least till I was sure it was time for my hand to do the talking. “So why are you here then?” I asked.
“Why I’m here?...Why I am actually here?? (sighs and takes a good lick on her ice-cream cone) I am actually here to tell you that even though my gurls think you’re cute and everything, I think otherwise. I came here to tell you again that even though these gurls love reading your posts, I think they are nothing but a worthless bunch of crap. Finally, I came here to tell you that though you claim to be a champion fucker; making gurls cum and errthang in your stories, I think you ain’t shit. Yeah, YOU AIN’T SHIT and despite how good you think you might be at sex, it’s all in your imagination ‘cos anyone of us here can take you on and make you scared of pussy. You ain’t shit mehn! YOU AIN’T SHIT!!!”
“Gosh!” I thought out loud. “What the fuck was I hearing? Did this petty slut just put a question mark on my fucking prowess? Did this little bitch just challenge me by saying anyone of them could take me on and make me runaway from pussy? Even if she had said they would take me on collectively, there was no way they would all survive the killer sex bout that I could put up with them. Did they not know me? Did they not recognise I was That Bloody Pervert???”
I was still racking my brain for an appropriate response while also considering the ‘palm option’ when the girl with the phone chipped in “See, I think you’re cute and everything but she’s right. You really can’t stand any of us. We’re the best sluts in our school and everyone, including the principal knows it. We even stopped fucking the boys in our school because we were fed up of their small dicks. We now fuck Unilag and Laspotech boys and they respect us.”
“Hmmmn”….I thought to myself again. These bitches were obviously doubting the potency of my conCOCKtion as a cure for CUNTcentrated cases of CUMvulsion. They were challenging me….THEY WERE TESTING ME! And that was exactly when it hit me. I suddenly came up with the perfect response in a quite similar, yet corrupt approach which M.I used in his verse of the Choc boiz’ hot single – ‘Nobody Test Me’.
Getting up instantly from my seat, the girls suddenly flinched and each took a step backward. They expected a physical attack but I picked up my empty beverage bottle and held it as a microphone instead. I then began spitting………………..
Now I got advice for all’ya lil' pussies coughing up tough shit.
Don't test me simply ‘cos y'all hump university bros…. Bitches, I'ma PRICK!
First pussy wey go try me....dat pussy go hot first.
Make the others join in...make we start the fuck-fest
Look, there is no contest. Have you seen my Penis?
Only one round and una go shout “Yeh! Chairman, abeg PLEASE”
So y’all fucking need to recognise and respect me, not vex or upset me
Now, I'll stick with ma experienced bitches…. You can call them 'old hands'.
Una breasts cheap like garri…..but i no go soak am
When una pussy blow like ganja...maybe i go smoke am.
Oh yes! Una get one smallie with big chest...Dat one, I fit POKE am!
But why would I even bother?...give y’all cheap promotion
I think your cunts are so dry…don’t bother using lotion
I’ll leave you here now…but I’ma let y’all know that
My game is so fucking madt….that’s why I’m called That Bloody Pervert!!!
With that, I left them with shocked faces and gaping mouths as I quietly strolled out of the eatery, whilst singing and heading back to the hostel…………………….
They try to prove me wrong but I’m topping my game
To all them lil’ pussies who now think we’re the same
Nobody test me…test me…..TEST ME
I’m screaming nobody test me….test me…..TEST ME
They’re so fucking lucky I didn’t catch them in a corner
I’d have retired their cunts early and done that with my boner
Bitches, nobody test me…test me….TEST ME
I’M SCREAMING NOBODY TEST ME…TEST ME….TEST ME!!!
As I crossed the road, I glanced back and sighted ‘Shorty’ dashing after me. “Wait!...please wait! Lemme come with you!” she shouted. I stopped and grinned………….*wink*
THE END
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