A successful husband is one who makes more money than his wife can spend. A successful woman is one who can find such a man! – Unknown.
Mrs. Beyonce Knowles-Carter is arguably the ultimate “gold-diggerest” b**ch in the world! Gaddem!!! Imagine a chic that is a friggin’ multi-millionaire in her own rights but still married an “ugly” guy for his money. You just can’t beat that… Haba! Why you no free bros for one poor akata chic wey neva see rich man to marry na? Aunty, I bow sha!
Yup! I said it! Iyawo Jay-Z inspires the millions of less sophisticated ratchets across the globe, unrepentantly on that hustle, one of who has unfortunately crossed my path and inspired this diatribe on the common-place phenomenon. Before we proceed, it is pertinent to note that I don’t hold much against women who seek material gratification in exchange for sexual favours. It’s all a game innit? Guys want to f**k, and girls want to buy the latest Prada bags and Louboutins to inspire envy in fellow girls. Vicious cycle I know, but it is what it is. If guys weren’t so mother**king thirsty, women would have absolutely no bargaining power in the scheme of things and would be content with “Fendy”, “Channel” “Lewis Vitton” and “Guccy” products, the luxury fashion industry would ebb, materialism would wane, and Mr. President wouldn’t be so goddamn ugly! (Don’t ask for a correlation).
The reality however is what prevails today. You play the game where either the girl “wins” (Dropping NO sex or far less sex in exchange for the ton of money your mugu ass forfeits), or you nack the elasticity out of that girl’s kpekus while shrewdly refusing to part with more than a measly meal at Mr. Biggs. The balance that is exchanging exactly same amount of sex for money value is approximately 0.05% (UN Report). The other statistic involving “true love” where sex and money are never even numerated, holds far less prevalence with a 0.0000005 percentile (Maulag survey/respondents) – Maulag babes are gold-diggers, screw your opinion!
Unfortunately for them and fortunately for innocent, hardworking men like us who only want a little punny (deservedly), the change in nomenclature from the tush “Unilag” to the pedestrian “Maulag” renders them on the same sub-ordinary level and consequent bargaining power as their sister school Mapoly, Nekede Poly, Ibadan Poly, OkoPoly, and their mother-in-ratchetness, OSU aka OOU. All of us have been adversely affected by the common trend, be it directly or indirectly; a friend, a relative, a friend’s relative, or a relative’s friend… Some of us even wear our victim badges with pride like a medal of honour, while the “perpetrator-predators” wear their bounty and tote their “spoils of war” with even greater sense of accomplishment.
This might seem like quite the kick in the nuts for all decent people out there irrespective of gender but again, this class of people don’t always come out winners. Thankfully too, when karma decides to deservedly f’you up, it injects into you a generous dose of stupid serum; just for “good measure”.
Take the case of the low-aiming gold-digger who gets played by our Warri friend.
My good pal whose identity we must protect at all costs to ensure he doesn’t get free make-over with acid… (screwit, his name is E**** H********) met this dame at an event, bla bla bla, yada yada yada… Nacks were set.
But to spoil it all, Ms. Thing decides she wants to exchange coochie for KFC. Fair enough right? NOT! But because the power of the P***Y is stronger than the force of gravity, E-Baba could ill complain. He rents a semi-expensive room (which according to him “pained his life”) for the tryst, and our Warri pal proceeds to nack subsidy-removal frustration out of the KFC-loving toto. Alas, he could only nack so much before a suspect “odor from the chamber” derailed his valiant efforts. And so he slept off.
Morning comes and surprise surprise, while bros slept our diva had been so thoughtful as to order breakfast-in-bed.
…On his tab.
WITHOUT EVEN ORDERING ANYTHING FOR BROS!
Freak out? No Sir! Nigga kept his cool. Pushing her luck to the limit, madam demanded a refund on breakfast as soon as possible, before strutting into the bathroom like a Disney princess… Issorai!
Mr. Man promptly rolled over to her side of the bed like a US Navy Seal in action, stealthily rummaged through her bag while she remixed National Anthem in Igbo to the beat of the cascading shower, and Voila! My nigga pulled out N5,000 from her bag, pocketed it in his denims, escaped to America where he changed his identity, and everyone lived happily ever after.
.. If only!
In actuality, time to leave the room soon came. Did madam forget to remind, nay, demand reimbursement? Fawk No! It was after all her birth-right. Does our hero betray any sense of justified disgust? Nah…. Uncle simply dipped his hand in his denim pocket most magnanimously and shelled out with a flourish, the exact sum of N5,000 to the grateful girl.
His reward? A gob-smacking kiss to register her pleasure and appreciation. Lol! Cool story right? I love it especially because it actually happened less than a month ago.
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK, I SOLEMNLY PROMISE! Lol…
PS: A woman accompanied her husband to the doctor’s office for his checkup. Afterwards, the doctor took his wife aside and
said, “Unless you do the following things, your husband will surely die.” The doctor then went on to say, “Here’s what you need to do. Every morning make sure you serve him a good healthy breakfast. Meet him at home each day for lunch so that you can serve him a well balanced meal. Make sure that you feed him a good hot meal each evening and don’t overburden him with any stressful conversation, nor ask him to perform any household chores. Also, keep the house spotless and clean so that he doesn’t get exposed to any threatening germs.”
On the way home, the husband asked his wife what the doctor said. She replied, “He said that you’re going to die.”