<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:00:04.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bukenzo!</title><subtitle type='html'>Assertive. Bold. Creative. Dependable. Easy-going. Fair. Generous. Hardworking. Intelligent. Jovial. Kind. Loving. Meek. No-nonsense. Optimist. Peaceful. Quiet. Resourceful. Sweet. Tender. Upright. V.i.p. Witty. Xtremely naija. Youthful. Zealous.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>13</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-8897964264626664325</id><published>2009-10-17T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T05:37:45.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waxing Philosophical</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/10075219/2/istockphoto_10075219-thinking-woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 221px; height: 380px;" src="http://www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/10075219/2/istockphoto_10075219-thinking-woman.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;The welsh wind blew my wool scarf away. My braids secured with a frilly band freed itself and tumbled down, I swiftly ran my freezing fingers through to place them behind my ears...I didn't need a soothsayer to  announce that winter had arrived in its freezing glory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;It made me think, seasons come, seasons go, time passes and  you can't bring it back. I was young yesterday, today I'm older and will never be younger. The house I call mine will one day no longer be mine and my full brown hair will one day become grey. As a child I daydreamed about having lots of fashionable stuff, shoes, jewelry and fab clothes, some day far far away in the future, all that I have acquired I will have no need for. I can only pray that when that far far away day comes, people will remember me and smile...genuinely.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;The thing about thinking like this is that it makes you wonder about how far you've come in life, have I achieved my dream, in the process or not even close, I'm I dating or have I've I married the prince charming I thot I'd marry or I'm I still single and waiting for him to arrive in his shining armour to sweep me away, have I started that business or have my ideas and talents taken me to the level I aspire to attain. Have I achieved my goals? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;While some may be fortunate to have big fat yeses to achieving their goals, in the hearts of some wells grief wishing they could change the past. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Thinking like this makes you wonder why your friend with whom you played in the sand is high up the ladder while you are struggling to climb and maintain balance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;But then, I've found a solution to thinking like this. I remind myself that we have all boarded the bus called 'Life', and we have different bus stops and destinations. My friend may get to his/her destination before I get to mine, but If I endure the rickety roads, potholes and rough seats, I will definitely get to my destination and when I do I will have rest and fulfillment. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I do not wish to change the mistakes I made in the past, I will not wish away the difficult present, what I will do is see the future, strive towards making it a dream come true and call those things that be not as though they were.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;I must also remember that fulfillment is not achieved my all that I acquire but the legacy I leave when I'm gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Abeg, pardon me for being so philosophical, I shall try not to be next time I update.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Its about 1 year and 5 months since I updated this blog, I apologise to everyone who's disappointed. My life has been busy with so many things taking up my time and thoughts, but now I have repented and I will update more often. My only fear is I might have lost followers of this blog who have also become friends. Anyways...God dey! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;Holla Back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-8897964264626664325?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/8897964264626664325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=8897964264626664325&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/8897964264626664325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/8897964264626664325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2009/10/waxing-philosophical.html' title='Waxing Philosophical'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-8046751079849850363</id><published>2008-05-16T00:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T03:16:23.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5045172/1/istockphoto_5045172_couch_surfer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand" height="215" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5045172/1/istockphoto_5045172_couch_surfer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5529268/1/istockphoto_5529268_serene_woman_peace_on_earth.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The moment i arrived in the U.K the first thing that hit my consciousness was the cold. The second was the fact that everyone seemed to be coupled, cuddling, kissing or chatting. Even the birds and rabbits seemed to be in pairs. At that moment i realised i was alone, all by my self, away from everyone and everything i am familiar with. So i made up my mind to make friends and what an adventure it has been.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I moved into my comfy flat and was glad to meet new people, my flatmates. Nice and friendly they are and the chances of us being fast friends seemed sure until they dropped hints that they are lesbians. The nastiest sights i have seen is ladies french kissing, and it is now a sight i behold daily. The door to that friendship was immediately shut. When you've tasted the lips of a man, you cant just help thinking kissing a woman is crazy. LoL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So i met a group of three from class, interesting people and we became fast friends. But i eventually had to break off because i discovered the friendship wasn't adding to me or multiplying me, it was dividing and subtracting me. I wasn't growing. I mean, one of them doesn't even believe in God. My initial action was to try to change the person's mind and we would end up in ceaseless arguments. I then realised that i cant change a person, only God can do that. Since i just wasn't feeling the friendship anymore, because we weren't on the same realm, i put a full stop to it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Then this guy came along and we became good friends. I finally felt i had a friend. We would chat and share thoughts and ideas, i would gist him about all the guys that make passes at me, we seemed to be on the same realm. Eventually sha, the guy says he's fallen in love with me. In luv ke? I immediately told him it cant work cuz i love someone else. My last post was about feeding attraction....i was chatting away about my friend, the same scenario seemed to be playing out around me. Anyway, we still remained friends but guy still keeps keeping faith that something will happen. Recently, i had to break off the friendship cuz it just is not healthy, it was a bit painful to do, cuz i enjoyed being friends with the guy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have tried making friends in church. The single ladies are after the single guys and any female new comer is seen as potential threat. The married ladies have glazed smiles as they eye their husbands to make sure they are not making eye contact will any lady. Women don't trust women, so the room for genuine friendship is slim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My classmates want to be friends with me cuz they think in their words that i am smart, they need a 'machinery'. The black guys i have met want to be friends with me cuz they are looking for free food, and maybe more, which they can never get, by God's grace. The white guys i have met want to be friends with me cuz they think in their words that i am hot, lustiest set of people. The single ladies in church don't wanna be friends with me cuz they think i am a potential threat, if only they knew i am in a relationship already. Married women can afford to relax, because i believe what you sow is what you reap, what would i need a pot bellied married man for anyway?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Right now, i just dey. Everyman for himself and God for us all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Dr. ONB, i have heeded your summons o, i dont want your green eyes (in your dreams) turning to red. LoL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have titled this post Untitled because i cant think of any title. I'm open to suggestions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Luv always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Holla back! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-8046751079849850363?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/8046751079849850363/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=8046751079849850363&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/8046751079849850363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/8046751079849850363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2008/05/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-3052067264954701580</id><published>2008-04-10T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T13:01:38.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeding Attraction</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5023770/1/istockphoto_5023770_love_triangle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 209px" height="207" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/5023770/1/istockphoto_5023770_love_triangle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I got a disturbing call from my friend yesterday. She called and said, 'Bukenzo, there's fire on the mountain'. What's the story? I'll share with you, but first I need to apologise for deserting blogville for a while, I've just been trying to settle in this new environment and I wanna say a big thank you to ONB, 30+, Allied and everyone who has been kind enough to check up on me. I appreciate you so much. God will remember you for good this very minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So, about my friend. Lovely christian lady, she's to get married in a few months and preparation is in top gear, shopping and all. Her fiance is in Naija, she's here in UK, and recently she just met this guy who is making her have butterflies in her tummy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;She met this new guy and they've been friends, probably because she doesnt have many friends around, they are always together spending time. Apparently she likes the guy and enjoys his company, craves his calls and attention, and lately the atmosphere is always tense when they are together, you know...that crazy sexual tension. My friend claims she still loves her fiancee but now her mind is playing games on her because she is wondering if her fiancee is actually THE ONE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The first thought that came to my mind was to scream at her and tell her she's crazy. ..but I did not. I mean, I had this male friend myself who was always coming around and before long, we would be talking and next he would be staring at me and the air will get tense with loads of funny energy. Good thing I was smart enough to draw a line immediately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I didnt judge my friend because I could relate with her situation, but that didnt stop me from telling her the truth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The fact that you are dating someone you love or you are married, does not mean you wont get attracted to other people and it doesn't mean we are terrible people. Its just the flesh manifesting itself. What makes us terrible is the inability to draw a line in relating with the opposite sex, if the circumstance is not healthy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I used to be so self righteous and wonder why people cheat on their partners, but the truth is, the difference between those who cheat and those who don't is not that those who don't do not get attracted to other people, its just that they don't feed the attraction.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Now my friend is wondering if her fiance is truly THE ONE! Once you start feeding attraction, your mind begins to play games on you and you are wondering if its love. Cupid is a nuisance, he enjoys making fools of humans. Human beings gravitate towards attention, acceptance and care. And thats the problem with long distance relationships. If that person is not there, and someone else shows up and is persistent in giving attention, then there's fire on the mountain. Anyway sha, I told my friend in pidgin, &lt;em&gt;make she no use her hand destroy the thing wey don better.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I have plenty gists but...I'll save it for latter posts. Its great to be back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Holla back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-3052067264954701580?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/3052067264954701580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=3052067264954701580&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3052067264954701580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3052067264954701580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2008/04/feeding-attraction.html' title='Feeding Attraction'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-1051923145776184021</id><published>2008-01-18T03:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T07:17:00.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Resolution and Prophesies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4781488/1/istockphoto_4781488_glowing_rainbow_2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4781488/1/istockphoto_4781488_glowing_rainbow_2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;In my secondary school days, I was an A class student, all the teachers loved me except my maths teacher. I was just a bad case at maths. My mind would wonder off in maths classes. It always seemed like my maths teacher was the main actor in a slow motion film, the clock always ticked slowly and I would while away time sketching his thick glasses, huge nose and heavy moustache. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So it was doomsday for me when the vice principal announced that any student who didn't pass both maths and english on credit level would not get promoted. English and other subjects were mincemeat but maths...!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Prior to the exams I remember begging God to do a miracle so that I won't be disgraced.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Well sha, we did the exams and gist started flying about that only 15 people in my class passed the maths exams. That day my heart kept pounding, my appetite was gone, at night my sleep was in snatches, then I would wake up and stare at the ceiling. I even put my Bible on my chest, hoping that would make God have mercy on my.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The following day, I was chilling in class when the class captain came in with a big grin plastered to his face. He claimed he just finished collating the maths results and only 10 people including him passed the exam. To my utter dismay, he started mentioning names and behold, my name was not mentioned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;The first thing that came to my mind was how I'ld inform my single parent - African soldier - Hardworking mum that I'ld be repeating a class. Then I wondered what people would say, Oh! the shame. The painful thing for me was, I was Brilliant! I was winning televised inter-school debates and all. So I made up my mind, got out of school, went to a drug store, bought some pills of Valium and decided to end it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I got back to school and swallowed the pills. Before I knew wassup, I was feeling groggy and funny. School staff took me home and luckily for me my aunt was home, she quickly called a doctor who advised that I be given lots of milk to neutralize the pills. I was given lots of milk and slept 48 hours straight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;When I woke, I felt awkward. My younger brother asked me if I had seen Jesus (LoL). I didn't know what my mum was gonna say, I couldn't look her in the face. She sat by me hugged me, thanked God for keeping me alive and told me something that changed my life, ' Obstacles and challenges stengthen our nerves and sharpens our skills, when we give up, we become failures'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;I got back to school , the results were finally released and I passed ( I'm still not sure if I really passed or if he math teacher was just being kind). My mum's words were written on my heart, I am not a Failure, I must never give up. She was my first mentor. Still is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;So I gained admission into the university and desperately wanted to study a particular course but I was given another. I was dissappointed, how many times had I begged God to make my dreams come true? I said God did not care and put my Bible under my bed, I was quarrelling with God. Then I met Sister Ruth and she assured me that the plans God has for me are way beyond my imagination, that he's got everything under control. Such true words! Sister Ruth was my second mentor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Then the boys started coming, left, right, centre, saying sweet words and all that, but I clearly remember Pastor Bimbo's voice (RIP), cautioning relentlessly. Another mentor I will never forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Today, I look around and see youths blinded by circumstances, lacking in wisdom and understanding, so much like...cotton wool, lacking in substance. Truth is, we have few mentors around. Youths are left at the mercy of celebs, corrupt leaders and all such who leave questionable examples behind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Being a mentor doesn't mean you have to be on teevee like Oprah. A kind word of encouragement or sound advice, motivation, leaving a good example, demonstrating values even when you think no one is watching. These, I think are what makes a mentor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;In 2008 I have made a resolution to be a mentor, I hope you will too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY PROPHESIES FOR YEAR 2008! (LOL)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;N.B:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;The following prophesies will come to pass only by faith. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.allied-genesis.blogspot.com/"&gt;Allied&lt;/a&gt;: From 2008, your talents and qualities will be celebrated. You will not stand before mere men, you will stand before Kings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.30goingon40.blogspot.com/"&gt;30+&lt;/a&gt;: You will accomplish something great this year. This is your year of divine favour.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.orientatednaijababe.blogspot.com/"&gt;ONB&lt;/a&gt;: Something will happen to you this year that will make you weep for joy. Let go of hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pamela-stitch.blogspot.com/"&gt;Pamela&lt;/a&gt;: Opportunities will come your way this year. People will go out of their way to please you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.escapedmind.blogspot.com/"&gt;Free2bme&lt;/a&gt;: God is moulding you into the best you can be. 2008 is your year of growth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;...Pastors dey try o! Anyway sha, everyone in blogville, 2008 is our year of goodies o jare!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Hollla Back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Luv Always!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-1051923145776184021?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/1051923145776184021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=1051923145776184021&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/1051923145776184021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/1051923145776184021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-resolution-and-prophesies.html' title='My Resolution and Prophesies!'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-5999011912251174266</id><published>2007-12-24T04:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T03:07:01.719-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's worse than being single?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3681423/1/istockphoto_3681423_two_platinum_or_silver_rings_reflected_candles.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3681423/1/istockphoto_3681423_two_platinum_or_silver_rings_reflected_candles.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Q&lt;/strong&gt;: What's worse than being single? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;: Being married to the wrong person or into the wrong family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Madam A&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You were an industrious woman, hardworking, a true african soldier. You left the shores on Naija to hussle for a greener pasture in the U.K, not for yourself alone, but for your husband and kids t have the good life. You washed dishes, washed toilets and did many many menial jobs to make ends meet, and the ends did meet. Your children went to the ebst schools in Naija, managed to buy a house in the U.K and even invited your husband over. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;You husband! He saw how well you had done for yourself and began to devise a plot. He pushed you down the stairs of the house and you broke your spinal cord. He turned you into a vegetable so that he could inherit the house and all you had worked for. You didnt just become a vegetable, you became psychotic, and had to be kept in the hospital. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Your husband came to Naija, married another wife and threw lavish parties, he left you all alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Thank God for the association, they had an inkling what was happening and are now working on putting your husband behind bars. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Your mother &lt;em&gt;Iya Olobi&lt;/em&gt; is now by your side taking care of you in the London hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;God sees all things and know all things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mr. T&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You married late because you wanted to be comfortable enough to provide for your family. So you worked hard and made a small fortune for yourself and then got married to that lady who seemed to be all that. She gave you two lovely daughters. Those times were sweet, you lavished so much on her, bought her cars, built a house in her name and opened a store fr her. You did all these because you loved her. Then you got laid off at work and the fortune dwindled and eventually there was nothing left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;And then she changed. She started talking down at you, disrespecting you, keeping late nights and having strange men come over to pick her. You loved her so much, you begged her to change, to stand by you during the tough times, she tricked you into withdrwing your saving, all you had, so that you both could start a small business. She ran away with the money and dumped you and the girls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;You blamed yourself for being to gullible, how could this happen to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The times were hard. You struggled to keep the girls in school and hoped that fortune will again smile on you. And it did in a larger dimension. You got a better job and a bigger pay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;After 3 years f being gone, your wife returns claiming to be sorry and asking for forgiveness, but you know somewhere in your heart that it is another trick she is trying to pull off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Everything is not as it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Merry xmas Allied, 30+, Yankeenaijababe, orientatednaijababe, Pamelastitch, Mona and everyone. You guys have made blogville interesting for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Holla Back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-5999011912251174266?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/5999011912251174266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=5999011912251174266&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/5999011912251174266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/5999011912251174266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/12/whats-worse-than-being-single.html' title='What&apos;s worse than being single?'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-19387697771792118</id><published>2007-12-07T04:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T05:33:27.779-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trusting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4070543/1/istockphoto_4070543_trust.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4070543/1/istockphoto_4070543_trust.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;The Bible speaks of a 'great woman' who lived in Shunem. God gave her a son when she couldn't have one. Then suddenly in his twenties he dies. So she picks him up, puts him on a horse and carries him back to Elisha, whom God had used to announce his birth in the first place. Imagine what her neighbours must have thought as she passed by. 'It's over, bury him!' But not her. She refused to stop and get the opinions of faithless people, or discuss her situation with those who were unqualified to help. Be careful who you open up to in a crisis! Make sure they know God and that their words line up with His. The warranty hasn't expired on the promises God gave you. This woman believed that if God started it, He could finish it. If He made it, He could fix it. And how does her story end? Elisha stretches his body out on top of the dead boy's body and his corpse gets warm. Now that's good, but this lad needs more than just warmth; he needs new life. So Elisha stretches out on top of him again. This time the boy sneezes seven times and comes to life. What's the lesson here for you? No matter how bad things look stay on top of the situation! Keep believing God. Walk the floor and pray all night if you have to, but don't give up. Keep standing on the Word. Your dream may not be fully alive yet, but it's getting warm. Things are improving. God is moving. Your answer is on the way; don't give up until it arrives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The excerpt above is from my aunt, wonderful lady! She sent it just when I needed it and am placing it because I want everyone to read and be blessed. I havent blogged in weeks because...i was frustrated, tired and fed up. You know how it is when you need God to do stuff and you cant seem to see results?, that's how i have been feeling. But lately I have learnt that God's speciality is making what seems impossible possible. Now, I am not frustrated anymore because I know when this phase is over, I am gonna testify!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Holla back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-19387697771792118?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/19387697771792118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=19387697771792118&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/19387697771792118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/19387697771792118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/12/trusting-him.html' title='Trusting'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-2323991447340447281</id><published>2007-11-13T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T03:26:43.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Monster and The Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3916236/1/istockphoto_3916236_werewolf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; width: 172px; height: 182px;" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3916236/1/istockphoto_3916236_werewolf.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;s a young child, I remember sitting on the toilet seat staring at the wall and making images from the paint cracks. I would always see a monster in the wall, making faces at me  and smacking. My wee-wee or  poo-poo will  immediately run away and I'll rush out of  the toilet, shaking and unable to explain my predicament.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Then at night, when I am asleep  the wee-wee will come back  asking to be let out of my bladder. But then I'll remember the monster in the toilet wall and my body would refuse to be co-ordinated into standing up. Then comes morning and the bed is wet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One fateful night, I had an experience that changed me. I went on a stroll with my aunt and as we walked I kept glancing up and noticing that the moon was going everywhere with me. When we got home, I asked my mum, " Why does the moon follow me everywhere I go? ", and she said, " Its because you are special and God is watching over you!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;After that, I would enter the toilet to wee-wee or poo-pooo and if the monster made faces at me, I would tell it to behave itself or else, I'll tell the moon to come and deal with it. Guess what? The monster is always afraid of the moon!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, I have seen that monster lurking around in my fear of failure, fear or uncertainties, fear of being broke, and several other fears. But I have been able to look the monster in its face and defend myself because I know the moon is watching over me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;That monster is fear and the moon is God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in case that monster called fear is harassing you, creeping into your mind, putting you in a limbo and making you stagnant and frozen, remember that the monster is always afraid of the moon, and just harass the monster back!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Holla Back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-2323991447340447281?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/2323991447340447281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=2323991447340447281&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2323991447340447281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2323991447340447281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/11/monster-and-moon.html' title='The Monster and The Moon'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-6882764532745696392</id><published>2007-10-31T03:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T04:49:01.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart or Boobs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.duncans.tv/images/hahn-love-boobs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.duncans.tv/images/hahn-love-boobs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.duncans.tv/images/hahn-love-boobs.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;People wassup! I've not been blogging for a while because i've been tied up with stuff. You know now, a girl has to do what a girl has to do. I am back, better, and more daring (the tittle of this blog is a testimony o).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;So what's the issue today? The issue is guys and their &lt;strong&gt;INFANTILE REGRESSION PROBLEM&lt;/strong&gt;. Guys and their obsession with boobs. It's funny you know, when a guy is a baby he gets to be breastfed for about a year, he gets to savour his dear mother's milk everytime he whimpers, and even wails loudly when he his denied. When he eventually becomes a big boy he still cannot stop fantasizing about boobs. Isn't that Infantile Regression? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;If you think am lying, watch out for a group of guys discussing, they could have been discussing the unending rivalry between Arsenal and Manchester United or the current political drama in the House of Representatives featuring Madam Patricia Etteh, but as soon as a hot babe walks past, the discussion instantly changes to the size of her boobs. Isn't that Infantile Regression?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My friend BJ was gisting me recently of all the qualities a girl has to have before he can date her, and top on his list was huge boobs so that he can have something to lay his head incase he gets tired of the pillow or the duvet. Na wa o! Girls, should guys grow up or what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I heard this joke about a brother who met this sister in church, he dated her for a few months and they got married. His major reason of marrying the sister was because he thought she had huge boobs. Behold on the wedding night! the brother discovers the sister has been wearing padded bras to cover up for not exactly huge boobs. Men! the brother didn't find it funny o. I wonder if he would now tell her to go and do a breast enlargement or something. Nonsense!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Now, this is my issue. Guys, a relationship shouldn't be about the boobs but more about the heart. Let's focus more on the contents than the container. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I know some guys are getting ready to argue this issue. I welcome your views.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;And just incase you think this blog is about advocating for ladies with small boobs, or that it applies to me, then you are kidding yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Holla Back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Luv always. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-6882764532745696392?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/6882764532745696392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=6882764532745696392&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/6882764532745696392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/6882764532745696392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/10/heart-or-boobs.html' title='Heart or Boobs'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-3633583364726106820</id><published>2007-09-20T07:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T07:43:53.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When a guy is rich...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Recently, i have been observing the folly of some ladies who rubbish themselves, all because a guy is rich. They go to extreme extents to sink their claws into the pockets of the rich guy, backstabbing each other and making fools of themselves in all entirety. I wonder what happened to faith, patience and belief in potentials.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I also wonder why so many will rather be dependent than be independent. I sampled opinions and was mesmerized that the purpose of so many young ladies is to marry a very very rich guy. This they believe is the solution to all their life's problems.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Na wa o. These ladies do not have a purpose of their own o, they are parasites who do not want to do anything, but want to have all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;What am I trying to say? I am saying that, a guy does not have to be rich before you date him. If you have that menatlity, I am sorry for you. As long as a guy has potentials, harworking and resourceful, have faith in him, encourage him and pray for him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;However, I am going to tell you what happens when a guy is rich...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3503440/1/istockphoto_3503440_business_means_money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3503440/1/istockphoto_3503440_business_means_money.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(153,153,255)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;When a guy is rich&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The home girl becomes a bitch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;The church girl becomes a witch&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All because the guy is rich.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:2HS2Ra1qgexBtM:http://tammyvitale.typepad.com/photos/ugly_fish/uf_tallulah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 143px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 122px" alt="" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:2HS2Ra1qgexBtM:http://tammyvitale.typepad.com/photos/ugly_fish/uf_tallulah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;So around him they flock like hungry fish&lt;br /&gt;Seductive, cosmetic charm to unleash&lt;br /&gt;But in time they turn rubbish&lt;br /&gt;Ugly, useless scales of fish.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:yruXoKDOsXFPpM:http://www.easleys.com/ProductImages/woochie/WitchFaceWO184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://tbn0.google.com/images?q=tbn:yruXoKDOsXFPpM:http://www.easleys.com/ProductImages/woochie/WitchFaceWO184.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;But our rich brother&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;Finds a wife and mother&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prettier and smoother&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Than the wasted grandmother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4126490/1/istockphoto_4126490_3d_rendering_of_two_beautiful_steel_hearts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 151px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/4126490/1/istockphoto_4126490_3d_rendering_of_two_beautiful_steel_hearts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Tall, dark, rich and handsome&lt;br /&gt;Might cost you a ransome&lt;br /&gt;Love you should welcome&lt;br /&gt;And a champion you become.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;Holla back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,51,204)"&gt;Luv always!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-3633583364726106820?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/3633583364726106820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=3633583364726106820&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3633583364726106820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3633583364726106820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/09/when-guy-is-rich.html' title='When a guy is rich...'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-2645491988586525325</id><published>2007-09-04T03:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T04:41:17.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Something!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Hi folks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I have really missed blogging and you guys too. Its just that i've been tied up with a couple of things. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;If you are like me and you are conscious of your environment, I am sure you would have noticed the appaling rate at which poverty has eaten into the garment of our nation and indeed Africa as a whole. Its indeed very unfortunate that despite our many resources, citizens of this country still languish in an unbelievable state of poverty. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; can't help but wonder at the folly of the wealthy, who pay millions of dollars for a scrap of painting but won't donate a dime to charity to help millions of needy, helpless children. I can't help but wonder at the folly of so-called celebrities who find it hard to give back to the society. I refuse to wonder about what the government is doing, I have finally given up on the government&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;I came across the pictures below via the internet and...I just kept wondering. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106296828280604258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 163px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="141" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt016TdehmI/AAAAAAAAACk/TiaZDq-YE90/s200/sad-1.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This winning photo taken in 1994 during the Sudan famine.The picture depicts a famine stricken child crawling towards an United Nations food camp, located a kilometer away.The vulture is waiting for the child to die so that it can eat it. This picture shocked the whole world. No one knows what happened to the child, including the photographer Kevin Carter who left the place as soon as the photograph was taken.Three months later he committed suicide due to depression&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt01xjdehlI/AAAAAAAAACc/2RpFjlX5Td4/s1600-h/sad-3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106296677956748882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="200" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt01xjdehlI/AAAAAAAAACc/2RpFjlX5Td4/s200/sad-3.jpg" width="188" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt; This famine stricken person eats from the anus of an animal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt01nTdehkI/AAAAAAAAACU/hYEvh8JA-qE/s1600-h/sad-4_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106296501863089730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="207" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt01nTdehkI/AAAAAAAAACU/hYEvh8JA-qE/s200/sad-4_2.jpg" width="139" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;He also showers with the wee-wee of an animal.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;If after reading this blog and seeing these pictures you don't know what to do, Thank God for whatever situation you are in, no matter how bad you think it is and DO SOMETHING FOR THE NEEDY, no matter how little you think it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;God help us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;Holla back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;"&gt;God's luv + mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-2645491988586525325?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/2645491988586525325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=2645491988586525325&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2645491988586525325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2645491988586525325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/09/do-something.html' title='Do Something!'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yy1gvaBKFH0/Rt016TdehmI/AAAAAAAAACk/TiaZDq-YE90/s72-c/sad-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-176515353982422436</id><published>2007-08-22T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T09:34:31.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Bonkers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3736956/1/istockphoto_3736956_two_guys_sbout"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 164px;" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/3736956/1/istockphoto_3736956_two_guys_sbout" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;Hi people. I ain't gonna ask how you are doing because am sure you're doing great. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;Hmm!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You guys wont believe the kind of experience I had recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;I went to one shopping mall like that, I was just chilling when I noticed a guy come out in one correct jeep like that. I must confess that this guy was really looking 'correct'. From his watch, to his shoes, oh! I mustn't forget his sunglasses, fantastic!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;Anyways, I checked out his shirt, and men! I dropped my jaws and picked it after 60 seconds. In front of his shirt were large prints which said 'PROUD TO BE GAY'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;OMG! In Naija? I was seriously shocked. It was indeed a loss to all the damsels.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;Its really thought provoking you know. Its like trying to reconstruct nature. If you don't believe me imagine a male dog mating with a male dog or two hens flirting! Absurd abi?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;A friend of mine was chatting with her 7 years old girl cousin, who had come from Yankee to Naija for holidays. My friend asked her cousin to mention the names of her friends back in Yankee and it turned out they were all girls. In a bid to tease her cousin, my friend asked how come she didn't have any friend that is a boy. Guess what her cousin said, my friend's 7 years old cousin said that she didn't like boys because they are so yucky, and she preferred girls because they are pretty, and that when she grows up she will be gay. What exactly are some parents doing?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Na wa o! God is probably looking down and thinking the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;world has gone bonkers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Hope I don't sound like am judging, just expressing my self, no offence abeg!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God help us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holla back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luv always.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 0); color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-176515353982422436?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/176515353982422436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=176515353982422436&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/176515353982422436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/176515353982422436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/08/going-bonkers.html' title='Going Bonkers!'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-2904123925977483651</id><published>2007-08-14T04:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T07:40:12.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drastic Action!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Hi Folks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Today, I &lt;strong&gt;don't&lt;/strong&gt; feel very gay. You know the &lt;strong&gt;naija thingy&lt;/strong&gt; now, every thing just gets to you once in a while, the &lt;strong&gt;corrupt&lt;/strong&gt; system and all, plus your own &lt;strong&gt;personal issues&lt;/strong&gt;. Anyway sha, &lt;strong&gt;God&lt;/strong&gt; dey!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;However, inspite of how I feel today, I have decided to take a &lt;strong&gt;drastic action&lt;/strong&gt; to uplift my spirit and to inspire everyone who feels as low as I do right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;The drastic action is &lt;strong&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;So...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;1. I thank God for the fat rat in my dustbin, becuz it means I have food in abundance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;2. I thank God for the bumpy Naija roads. They've taught me life isn't a straight line graph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;3. I thank God for the nasty bus conductor. At least I have eyes to see him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;4. I thank God for when NEPA strikes. It has taught me to hope. Light will shine again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;5. I thank God for the guilt I feel in my heart when I do things I shouldn't. It means I have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;a conscience.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;6. I thank God for the times I face troubles. Those times have made me emotionally matured.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;7. I thank God for people who don't know but think they know. They've taught me humility.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;8. I thank God for friends I've lost. The loss has taught me to make God my friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;9. I thank God for the cloudy sky, because somewhere there is a silver lining.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;10. I thank God for those who think I can't amount to nothing. Becuz God is set to shock them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Whao!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I feel much better all ready. What's that &lt;strong&gt;funny something&lt;/strong&gt; you want to thank God for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Holla Back!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Luv always&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-2904123925977483651?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/2904123925977483651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=2904123925977483651&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2904123925977483651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/2904123925977483651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/08/drastic-action.html' title='Drastic Action!'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1696818322517977469.post-3704882605857445761</id><published>2007-08-06T04:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T04:35:36.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>D'banj or Tuface?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Hi folks.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to start today's blog with a confession.&lt;br /&gt;I like fine boys!&lt;br /&gt;Now, '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Fine' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;in Bukenzo's dictionary doesn't just mean looks, its a combination of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;charisma, potential, panache, charm and you know...intelligence with the right attitude&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;. Now, don't start judging me or anything, am just being truthful. Okay, let me make self clearer. Its not like I have a crush on, or trip for fine boys like that, I just admire them. Simple. Cuz I know someone is probably reading this blog now and thinking...&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I recently heard a conversation between  about who is finer and more talented,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Dbanj&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt; or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;Tuface&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;? Wish you were there, but since you  were not, i got excerpts for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend A:   Dbanj is definitely the Koko. Why? because he is more refined and charming, plus                 he's got a very tight stage craft. He's been able to keep his passions in check, abi                 have you heard any pregnancy rumours about him flying around?&lt;br /&gt;                Tuface? we are not even sure he can construct a sentence in English without                         adding pidgin english. But Dbanj is just so so ...fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friend B:   Tuface is sure finer. Is it his fault that every girl wants a piece of him. Haba,                         never make the mistake of comparing Tuface and Dbanj, becuz they just are not in                 the same league. Dbanj is overly hyperactive, Tuface is more matured                                   in everything, even his music is better. He is a charmer any day jare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lagos na wa! They sound like they are jobless abi?&lt;br /&gt;But you know, realistically, who do YOU think is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;'Finer' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;? Holla Back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luv always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1696818322517977469-3704882605857445761?l=adebukola.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/feeds/3704882605857445761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1696818322517977469&amp;postID=3704882605857445761&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3704882605857445761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1696818322517977469/posts/default/3704882605857445761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adebukola.blogspot.com/2007/08/dbanj-or-tuface.html' title='D&apos;banj or Tuface?'/><author><name>Bukenzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02918582003119805172</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>
