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About Sola

Sola said to write about her. I wanted to avoid it because then she’ll think I care about her (which I actually do but why let her know?) But then my fingers danced around my keyboard for a while and my brain froze over. Law school is making me think only of legal principles and opinions and statues. It’s actually not funny. Anyway, back to Sola. Sola is a stalker

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On Z

On Zero At the job interview today:  Interviewer: Have you ever gotten a zero on any test before? Me: A zero? No sir. Never have. Interviewer: Wow. Amazing. Okay, have you ever missed a test that was never made-up for you again? Me: Umm… Yeah. Yes, actually. A couple of them during my University days. The way I dealt with that situation was that I – Interviewer: Okay. Let’s just

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On P

On Precious I feel honoured to know you. Thank you Preshy.  I love you.  On Patience ‘I will wait’ by Mumford and Sons has got to be the greatest antithetical song of all time. I mean, the lyrics and everything spell patience and long suffering but the beat is so fast one would wonder if Mumford and Sons were trying to give the song a double meaning.  Just listen to

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A Rather Weird One

Before you read this story, I’d tell you a little about the mythical incubus (plural: Incubi). According to the fairly reliable Wikipedia, ‘An incubus is a demon in male form who, according to mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleepers, especially women, in order to engage in sexual activity with them. Its female counterpart is the succubus.’ In essence, an incubus is what Nigerians would call a spirit husband. Caveat:

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Red Means Hot

I am a literature teacher in a deceptively tacky school. I don’t care much for my job and trust me, my job doesn’t care much for me. The students I teach? Average. Okay English. Okay Diction. Okay willingness to learn. Just Okay everything. Sometimes, I think my average unprogressive life might actually be rubbing off on them. But hey, I’m not here to talk about my trials, tribulations, worries, sorrows,

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Ode to my Yellow Pen

*I’m serious* -_- I chose you. And I’ll choose you over and again if we both came back to this world a second time; Or if Ope ever re-celebrated her grandfather’s burial. You were just a souvenir. It was either you or the red one. The red one – blazing red, probably used to getting all the attention, called out my name. I barely even saw you. But thank God

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