Category Archives: Uncategorized

10 Awful Things that the World could do Without!

10 Awful Things that the World could do Without!

1. Losing a friend because he broke your girl’s heart and you had to pick a side.


2. Losing a lover because you wanted him to take you seriously and gave him an ultimatum.


3. Having to attend boring management meetings because you got promoted.


4. A lie being told about you in a place or manner that a rebuttal can never be made but impressions have been formed.


5. Expecting you to play nice when someone says you should be thankful for a loss in your life because having that thing isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.


6. Not knowing whether to keep quiet or speak your truth about a situation that could potentially escalate.


7. Not being able to kiss your aged parents or grand parents because they could catch covid-19 and die.


8. Seeing the status updates of someone who used to be your very best friend and now he or she is just a stranger who knows all your secrets and is happy without you.


9. Being stuck in a relationship that makes you more sad than happy, just because of the optics.


10. When you can’t give an elder or boss a piece of your mind because of that thing called respect.


What awful thing should be added to this list?

While you are thinking of a time when you felt awful about one of the things above, also think about the person or people who have been on the receiving end of your awfulness. Let’s try to live by these 3 principles:

1. Be kinder to one another.

2. Live your truth; makesure your choices make you genuinely happy. It’s your life not theirs.

3. Look at the bigger picture. A lot of things don’t make sense when you look at them in bits and pieces.

Stay safe Chutzpah fam! Some of you are working from home, or may be in self-isolation, while others continue life as they know it. Please remember to be kind. Do not hoard supplies, do not spread the covid-19 virus, maintain safe distances and proper hygiene and remember to say a prayer for the world.

Sending love and light your way!

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Posted by on March 19, 2020 in Uncategorized


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JFK Blues

I was recently selected for the Mandela Washington Fellowship for Young African Leaders and this is exactly how I felt:

It made the opposition I received from men, women and even learned colleagues who were all standing on the table I was so vigorously trying to shake by speaking out against skin lightening practices totally worthwhile. #thefightcontinues #saynotobleaching

So I packed my bags ready for my dream trip to God’s own country. Eager to be moulded into greatness and to rub shoulders with the other fellows. #letsgothere

Had some hiccups in the days leading up to the trip but in Naija we know village people must always try themselves fortunately, God pass them!

So I would love to end the post here and say my trip to obodo oyinbo was uneventful but when you are making soup and Lagos traffic, faulty airplane, TSA, missed flight and spiritual cold are ingredients you know you are cooking up a storm so just grab a plate and let me continue…

Air peace got me to Lagos right on time. They give me the kind of assurance that aerocontractors had in its glory days. The kind that makes you wanna call them ‘your girl’.

Had a 10 hour wait till my next flight but had gotten an email to be at the airport 2 hours before checking in for some last minute instructions.

Called up my mama (you know I am a Lasgidi girl through and through) and she suggested we go somewhere outside the airport to chill for the 4 hours I had to kill.

That’s when my village people started laughing in Isoko. The traffic from the International airport to the nearest eatery in Ajao estate was ‘unholy’ to say the least. We finally spotted one Mr Biggs after being in traffic for over an hour. I had already started doing the mental calculations about how much time I was allowed to eat, gist and then hit the road again so I’d not be the star actress in ‘stories that touch’ episode 78!

We got back to the airport in record time after my beloved mama had prayed over me, anointed me and kissed me all over intermittently giving stern instructions and nuggets of advice. I love me an African mom any day, any time! #bestkarmaforanytrip

Everything else was uneventful at least for a while. I had to look frantically for a place to charge my phone. Why oh why are all the ports at the airport broken? Naija I hail oh!

I boarded my Delta Airlines flight to JFK ready for my amazing journey and undeterred by the fact that I was sitting between two African mothers who needed this ‘daughter’ to show them the buttons, adjust this and that and answer all manner of questions. Guys my new name is Anita Fixit!

Then the absolute worst happened. It was like a dream…first the monitors went off, then the airplane became very hot and then the lights went off and only the emergency lights gave us any form of visibility. I put my hands on my head! If this was Arik air, I would just hiss and wait for the pilot’s announcement of a delayed flight due to technical difficulties (Yes, Arik has shown me pepper plenty times #sorrynotsorry) but this was an oyinbo airline for Okoro’s sake! I thought of a zillion things- the missing planes and plane crashes and the domino effect a delay in one flight would invariably cause.

Soon we were sweating and then panting and everyone had the same bewildered look on their faces. The air hostesses passed out cold paper towels and we got progress reports from time to time. I sent a message to la familia to ‘bẹrẹ gbadura‘. Hubby sent me a youtube link to this awesome song and my frayed nerves found some calm.

Ada- I Testify

In a couple more minutes we were on the move and I testify that it was smooth sailing all the way to NYC. Well apart from the time when the waitress asked if we wanted chicken and yam or beef and rice and I picked beef and rice and aunty beside me picked ‘anything’ only to start wailing when she saw the mutilated chicken sitting untop mashed yam swimming in a pastel colored gravy. At least my excuse for jollof rice was edible!

Got to JFK, breezed past immigration (All Glory To God), checked in my luggage for my next flight and got my boarding pass. Connected to free wifi and then went in search of some cake and hot chocolate. To better understand the events that unfolded afterwards I would like to add that I went to the departure area but some stern looking Fed told me it was too early to be there since my flight was in 8 hours and I should find something to do with myself till much closer to departure. (Who sent me to even ask question sef? Shey I could have just wakad jejerly to the departure lounge).

When it was about an hour and 15 minutes to departure I strolled like a boss to the departure area only to see the worst queue I had ever seen in my life. The queue had twists and turns and interceptions and people walking like the undead. I panicked! The oyinbos were in no hurry and I mentally willed them to go faster. When it was 20 minutes to departure I kept begging the TSA guys to let me jump the queue cos I was gonna miss my flight and they’d calmly say ‘ma’am we should be over and done with in a couple more minutes.’ I was gobsmacked!

I left the TSA 10 minutes to departure only to realise the actual distance to gate B51. I ran and jogged and searched frantically for a cart to assist me with the commute and then ran some more till my lungs felt like they would burst. Got to the boarding gate at the exact time of departure printed on my boarding pass and was about to breathlessly congratulate myself when the woman at the desk informed me that my flight had gone 10 minutes before.

The kind folks at Delta airline put me on the next available flight which was 8 hours later and I became an omonile at JFK! The sort of person who hadn’t showered in 24 hours and who was unimpressed with the facilities around and just wanted to get home! The hours flew by kindly enough. I got busy with a course I’d left pending for some weeks and covered good ground.

Finally it was time to head to Washington DC and I made sure I was first in line. I had been assured that my luggage that arrived 8 hours earlier would be waiting for me. In Naija, the luggage would have found a new home! The plane was really small and for some odd reason my feet were freezing cold like rock solid cold even though the rest of the airplane had ambient temperature. Had to wrap my pashmina around my feet.

Finally got to the place I would be calling home for 6 weeks and I was offered a roll that tasted like boiled unseasoned beans wrapped in a slice of bread- they called it a burrito!

To be continued…


Posted by on June 23, 2018 in Uncategorized


The Mockingjay- the koko of the gist!

I didn’t mean to write another  soap opera honest! I was running late for work and thought I was saving the post in drafts. The oversabi thing published itself. Anyway back to my story 😉

The Mockingjay

In the hit movie ‘The Hunger Games’ the Mockingjay was symbolic. Rue and Katniss used them to send a signal to each other saying they were alright and voila an idea was born. Wouldn’t it be socially life-saving to have a way of sending a signal to le boo that he/she was treading on dangerous ground in a particular discourse with a stranger and without making that message so obvious? Of course we can’t go around cat calling or jay mocking when we are not in the woods, we’d look like savages but what if like the poker game we could rub an ear or wrinkle our noses to pass a subtle message across or not to over think it, instead of saying Cecilia, you could just call her by her native name Abike and she’d know something was up.

Still think it’s too much trouble?

Why this might just be a smart idea:

  1. If Jide in the story in my previous post had ‘mockingjayed’ his wife, he would have prepared her and maybe she wouldn’t have been caught off guard by the seemingly innocent invitation.
  2. It’s essential for a couple to know that for this to work there has to be a high degree of honesty and trust. Partners shouldn’t be made to feel like the Mockingjay is a prelude to disaster. The intro for a horrible truth that has been kept hidden from them up till now.
  3. There has to be unity among the partners. If le boo mockingjayed you for example, You shouldn’t eye ball him and continue like he hadn’t just sent you a signal all because you didn’t understand why. You just go with the flow and expect to understand why sooner or later. You guys are supposed to be a team. You both vs world.
  4. Focus. If you are one of those chatterboxes who loves the sound of your own voice or undue attention, you’d most likely miss out on a lot of mockingjays or your boo wouldn’t even bother. He’d just beg the earth to swallow him up so he could die.
  5. It prevents drama jare. There are a lot of words that have been said that we all wish we could take back. Words said in public are even harder. Imagine talking about a great family trip to your boo’s boss when he had lied to his boss that he was on admission in the hospital at that time. #disaster #roughplay #verbaldiarrhoea.

So all in all having a mockinjay isn’t such a bad idea. What it’ll be is essentially up to you and le boo although i’d suggest you didn’t use your native dialect as the world is really small and you’d be surprised how many foreigners understand your secret code.

And as for my illustration, common things occur commonly and for some reason there are one two many stories of guys having awfully long engagements with one bae and then dumping her to marry a second bae who they courted for half a second. Guys that scenario just could be yours. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned #nobemetalkam #notsubbinganyoneoh #where’smypopcorn

Have a drama free weekend Chutzpah fam,
Thanks for hanging in there.
Love you all.

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Posted by on May 21, 2015 in Uncategorized


The Mockingjay

Cecilia was leaning on her husband’s arm affectionately greeting all who came her way. She didn’t think twice of the woman who lingered just a bit more than the others, didn’t think it odd that her usually talkative husband had stiffened beside her. He often got bored of such social gatherings and she took it as the first prompt that she needed to wrap up their evening out. She excused herself and headed for the bathroom, hoping that on her way she could stop at the dessert table for one more helping of the delicious cakes before she resumed her diet the next day. She bumped into the lady she had exchanged pleasantries with a moment before. Her open friendliness a bit overwhelming. Her name was Bisi and all she did was gush and gush about how pretty Cecilia’s hair was, how good she looked, how much taste she seemed to have blah blah. Cecilia kinda liked the attention but had to hurry on, not wanting to keep hubby waiting. Moments later, mission accomplished and smiling like a Cheshire cat she waltzed back to her husband’s arms. She was ready to leave but just as she turned towards the door Bisi called out to her, inviting she and her hubby for a house party next week. Cecilia nodded, she wasn’t about to say no to this poor dear who was obviously desperate for her friendship and she seemed like a nice person too. She saw her husband’s disapproval too late…

As soon as they got to the car she sensed something was wrong. Jide could barely hide his feelings.
What’s the matter boo?
Why did you have to say yes without even asking how I felt about it?
It’s not a big deal hon, I didn’t want to seen impolite, we can always cancel. Don’t you like her?
Hubby was silent…
Bisi and I dated some years ago…

Did someone shout OH MY GAWD?!!!
What on earth…?
No wonder the sneaky snake was so all over her…
Cecilia was beside herself in fury. Any woman tryna break up my home fall down and die, she seethed. She had a good mind to attend the party and show the babe that five years of marriage wasn’t beans. The nerve of the woman. The look on Jide’s face though.

Bisi smiled. She had thoroughly enjoyed the look of discomfiture on Jide’s face. The bastard! He had put her through hell and back. After making her the Lord of the rings, he had run off to marry a girl he met at a work retreat. The funny thing was the babe wasn’t cuter than she was and had even allowed herself get fat. ‘See her guzzling cake like it was going out of fashion hiss’. Bisi had to take a deep breath, she wasn’t a hater. Her beef wasn’t with the cute but clueless Cecilia in fact she had no beef at all because her life was great. She finally had a great man, a great career and a great life and simply wanted Jide to see which was why she had invited them to her engagement party but the look on Jide’s face made her know that wasn’t gonna happen. Heck maybe she should have just gotten herself invited for dinner at theirs LOL. She wanted to watch that rotten worm squirm.

Jide swore under his breath. The one girl he hadn’t told wifey about had come to f**king bite him in the ass. Karma wasn’t gonna win, not if he could help it. He needed to have a talk with Cecilia before things escalated. He wasn’t proud of the things he had done in his youth but hey he wasn’t the worst out there and he wasn’t gonna let a mistake rock the stability of his marriage certainly not a mistake he wasn’t hitting anymore!

Cecilia walked into the bathroom.
‘We need to talk’ ….both said it at the same time and the look between them spoke volumes.

To be continued…

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Posted by on May 21, 2015 in Uncategorized




…a short story titled ‘Happy New Year’, I wrote it almost two years ago and found it in my archives…enjoy!

Sadia stared intently at the clock, willing its indolent hands to go faster. Midnight drew nigh and she felt the air being sucked out of her as she anticipated that final boom. She had always imagined how she would die but suicide had never crossed her mind. She wondered if 70 hot brothers would be waiting for her in paradise but the thought of another man laying his finger on her caused bile to rise up in her throat. Her stomach twisted in revulsion as she begged the images that began filling her head to disappear. She didn’t want to remember and that was the reason for her haziness the last couple of days. Jemima assumed she was a junky, she saw the pity and disapproval in her eyes but even she knew better than to interfere.
Sadia sighed as she clutched her tummy. It had felt hollow since that night. A part of her had been removed and she wasn’t sure if it was entirely Alhaji’s fault. She spat as she glanced at Alhaji heaving and writhing on top of her, eyes closed, lost to the world. Murder was too good for him, too good for her. It had taken her 10 years to decide what punishment best suited the crime but her mind hadn’t waited that long. The punishment had started the first time the tears failed to come, the first time she didn’t struggle as hard. Alhaji had noticed, she remembered his smile at having broken her finally. She died that day and even the loss of her womb had not been able to provoke emotion, just emptiness. She moaned as the pleasure built up mingling with his in sinful melody. There could be no atonement for her. The jury found her guilty and the more her mind tortured her with feelings of unworthiness; the more she succumbed to the passion that emanated from this single act. She had started planning this day 5 years ago and she knew it would be poetic justice that they die together. She needed to do this for Hassan. She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him…
She had wandered along the busy streets, eyes glazed, oblivious to the blaring horns and hustle and bustle around her. She had come to buy rat poison. She had decided that she would beg Meme to allow her make dinner tonight. Meme was going to her uncle’s house for a wake and would jump at the offer. Hassan must have seen the look in her eyes as she bought the poison. He knew that look, remembered it from days training in the far dessert. He knew deep down that no rat would be dying tonight and even as he warned himself to mind his business, the striking girl with the sad eyes and determined mouth had him enthralled. Sadia was in no mood for chitchat but when Hassan remarked that rat poison was a slow and painful way for anyone to die, he finally caught her attention. He hadn’t asked too many questions, hadn’t provided her with much information but he had done something he thought he would never do, he had told her about his timeline. He had no family, made no friends but had confided in Sadia that in a few years, his phone would ring and his time would be up. He had asked for no money in exchange for his death, just the peace that came with leaving behind his troubled past and a chance at atonement. He didn’t care too much for those he would take with him. They were better off dead anyway. And in a kiss more laden with promise than passion, the deal had been sealed. He would teach her all he knew and in exchange she would carry out her plan without fail or compromise. He didn’t know her story but she believed in heaven, maybe Allah would give them a chance to be together in heaven but if He didn’t then it was all the same to him.
Sadia hadn’t died that day, Rufus had. She had cooked the food with the poison alright, not wanting to stake all her plans on the stranger at the market but just as she turned off the gas, Alhaji had grabbed her bosom from behind, causing her to jump at the unexpected intrusion and her insides had churned with a mix of hate, disgust and desire. Eight hours later, she lay asleep in his bed. Alhaji watched her, Meme would be home soon. He left the room hastily, determined to expunge all evidence. He hastily dumped the uneaten food on the refuse heap outside and never saw or heard the troubled barks of his beloved canine as he ate his last.
Sadia was ready by Christmas but had taken her time. Getting Meme and Jemima out of the house tonight had proved quite a challenge but when she got Alhaji involved, he had made it happen. The sick pervert couldn’t pass up another opportunity to possess his offspring and she closed her eyes tight to block out the lustful curl of his lips. She watched the minutes pass by. Alhaji would be home by 10pm, he had gone to drop his wife and niece himself. Sadia wore a black robe and underneath it the red underwear Alhaji liked. She felt nothing, not even fear, just a cold emptiness. She glanced at the clock again, it was time. Alhaji heaved in her ear drowning out the first chime. She counted the chimes as the third, fourth, fifth, sixth rang in close succession. She closed her eyes and searched for the button on the contraption beneath her pillow. She thought of Hassan and the suicide bombing in Kaduna the week before. The eleventh chime went by, she looked straight into Alhaji’s eyes and with a voice laden with hate she said ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR’ and then pressed the button. The boom was the last thing she heard…


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Posted by on July 13, 2014 in Uncategorized, X-Files


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2. An Open Letter to Boko Haram!


Dear Terrorist,

I see you sitting at a table planning your next raid, mapping out the trail of death and destruction that will leave many orphaned and others homeless. Collateral damage you call it. For a better cause you reason. You turn a blind eye to the weeping mother who lost an innocent child or the confused child sitting beside his dead father, murdered in cold blood.

You want to make a statement, you want the world to listen up, to respect and tremble before your sovereignty. You dream of bringing world leaders to their knees and causing a revolution that your generations will sing about proudly…
  But have you ever stopped to wonder about the lives lost, the sorrow and the pain you inflict on the weakest of mortals who have in no way wronged you? Their only crime is their association to your object of hate. All is fair in love and war you chime. Ruthless and unforgiving is the trademark you wear with pride but permit me to ask; ‘Has there ever been a successful terrorist mission?’ You don’t lack the skills, the men or the firearms but inevitably you lose the war each time even after several battle victories.

  A wise man once said only a fool does the same thing over and over and expects a different result. Don’t you think it is time for a change? Nelson Mandela touched more lives with his love than Osama Bin Laden did with his hate. It is more than mere statistics, only the living can corroborate this story.
   I see the pride in your eyes as you gaze upon your son, I know how much you want to protect him, for you see we humans are not so different after all. We love, we fear, we fight, we hope. The very same feelings your offspring evoke in your heart are the very same feelings that those whose loved ones you brutally take away feel within their hearts. Come reason with me Boko Haram, let’s make love and not war, you can be heard even without the roar of violence. Touching a life with love causes the kind of revolution that generations of blood shed cannot achieve. Let’s fight for peace for a change.
    Don’t be sucked into political propaganda shrouded in religion. Allah would never approve of the killing of the innocent. You kill Muslims and Christians alike which makes a mockery of the religious disciplines that govern your fight. Please don’t be a pawn in the hands of selfish men. They promise you gold and silver and make you believe you are fighting for a worthy cause but what good ever came out of killing off the weak and defenseless in a nation? The people you kill are not the enemy. It belies your strength and colours you in cowardice when you target those who could never fight back.

   My dear terrorist, it is 2014 and new battle strategies are necessary. I need you to take stock of what you have achieved in the last year. Nothing has changed, your demands are still not met and before long the people of Nigeria will get used to your terror the way we have accepted maternal mortality rates and road traffic accidents. Now is the time to make a change. I urge you to see things a little differently. Today I am bringing love to the table, it doesn’t make much sense but within its embrace lies the greatest weapon. Let do things differently, yes we can!

From a concerned citizen!

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Posted by on March 5, 2014 in Uncategorized, X-Files


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Goodbye Blog, Hello Website!


Hey chutzpah fam,

I started this blog in October 2010 and 7 awards, 821 email subscribers and 129,724 hits later I think it’s time we took it to the next level!


I present to you (yeah I ditched the WordPress in the url)

Please bookmark this new website and for all my loyal subscribers, I would ask that you do me the immense favour of subscribing again. The box is at the bottom of the left column.

2014 will definitely be an awesome year.

Excited much

P.s: This is my last post here, all your favorite posts have been moved to the new website

Thanks and God bless,
Miz Chutzpah

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Posted by on February 3, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Happy New Year!


As we begin the new year, I want you to look in the mirror, take a deep breath, brace yourself and say from the depths of your heart that “THIS YEAR I AM GOING TO TAKE CHARGE!”. Yeah you heard me, no more sitting in the back seat while people, events, old habits and reckless decisions drive you through the town of mediocrity and into the valley of destruction.

When I first heard my mentor Rev Ben Akhigbe II speak those words “Take charge”, I felt a spark ignite within my very soul. That was exactly what I needed to do. I had to stop blaming the system or the economy or the people around me. I needed to stop relying on them like they were guide dogs or I was helpless. The truth is that life is tough and more often than not, that break you desperately need is NOT gonna fall in your laps like a bag of cherries and making or breaking a couple of half-hearted new year resolutions is NOT gonna change who you are or more importantly where you are headed in life.

You need to TAKE CHARGE physically, mentally, socially, financially and spiritually this year if you expect it to be the golden year of your dreams!

Here are five points to serve as indicators that YOU are now in charge of your affairs:

1. Your CV gets updated before the end of the year. Do a course, acquire a new skill, get a degree etc Just make sure you have something to add to it this year.

2. You finish something. Many of us are surrounded by heaps of unfinished business. Abandoned projects litter our lives and we blame them on everything and everyone except our inability to take charge. The men on Forbes richest didn’t have it easy trust me but being resilient is key!

3. You set yourself free: From that relationship going nowhere or that job that makes you sick or that toxic friendship. There’s nothing like freedom.

4. You create a box called conquering impossibilities and fill it with mementos of stuff you achieved against all odds. Scared of water, learn to swim. Take charge of that phobia, that impossibility and that disability and aim for the sky.

5. You find a reason to smile everyday: YOLO YOLO YOLO! You only live once! Take charge of that thing that makes you lose your smile, that threatens to give you a headache. God has already given you dominion now you need to TAKE CHARGE!

No more complaining about things you think you can’t change. No more saying ‘it is well’ and relapsing into the pseudo-comfort of complacency. NO more MR NICE GUY.

Take Charge!!!


Posted by on January 1, 2014 in Uncategorized


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The Christmas Break…


What breaks in a moment may take years to mend…Swedish Proverb

The holidays are upon us. Christmas brings with it days off work, endless feasts, merry making and all sorts of new and exciting adventures for both young and old.

Like all holidays it is a time for family and like all family gatherings friction is often not too far off. This holiday be mindful of the words you utter to those nearest and dearest to you. Words are like knives and a person once cut may end up nursing that
festering wound for the next 365 days.

Remember how you felt the day you broke that glass ornament after your mum specifically asked you not to touch it? You wished you could fix it, you prayed the pieces would magically come together and offer you the second chance you so needed.

Many things in life once broken, take years to mend, others are forever destroyed; Trust, Confidence, Friendship, Family-ties the list is endless. So as you delve into this wonderful holiday be careful not to break anything(or anyone). Family is like a pack of Skittles, every one is uniquely different but you get such a zing when they unite in your mouth. Don’t let a cherry ruffle you up!

Season’s greetings chutzpah fam!
Don’t drink and drive…


Posted by on December 19, 2013 in Uncategorized


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The A.W.


She glances at him from beneath her lashes…
Pouts her lips like she is blowing ashes…
She wills him to look at her…
Wills him a heart attack…
Anything that will make him pause…
And look her in the eyes like he needs her without remorse…
She thinks of the other men, an abandoned lot…
And wonders how they became her opportunity cost…
The man she chose seems to live life on his toes…
Barely aware of the waif in his care…
Oh how she longs to be looked upon with admiration…
And spoilt and ravished with much adoration…
Treated like a queen…
And allowed to preen…
She doesn’t ask for anything more…
But to be celebrated and complimented till lips are sore…
Treat her right, respect her, don’t let it be a chore…
For she is none other than the attention whore…



Posted by on December 12, 2013 in Uncategorized


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