The Thoughts of a Semi-Sane Individual

A Tripod Productshizzle



I’ve written about Boogey on my blog in the past, so he needs no formal introduction. Sanctum is a song from his Upcoming album “Something About David (S.A.D.) and has been receiving massive air-play from radio stations. 

Directed by Brotha Lee of Temple Film Productions, the “Sanctum” video is a genre-changing short film, certain to further fuel awareness of, and discussion about Boogey, an artiste many have hailed as the leader of the new wave of NIgerian elite MCs. 


A downloadable hulkshare link, and a dropbox link, to the trailer are also included, to enable you post a direct link for your viewers to download from your site:




How else can I stop this fight

And quell endless tearful nights

How can I make this stop

Make my way to your heart’s top


Will this simple sorry do

For being a stupid fool

Will this sorry poem do

And return to our awesome cool


I’m sorry if I made you cry

And almost made you say goodbye

I’m shameful for my pride

And acting like a child


This has been my third strike

Hope I’m not sent on a hike

I know its a corny analogy

But please accept my apology




This last weekend was very eventful for me. I met a great chick, finished my deadlines for me to have a wonderful weekend. I was also looking forward to meeting my cousins, aunts and uncles at my grandfather’s 50th burial anniversary. But what stood out the most this weekend, was my mum and I being robbed at gun-point on Saturday…

…yeah you heard right…ROBBED!!! and in broad daylight too.


Shit looked like I was a real life character in a poorly directed Nollywood movie. Lemme give you a rundown.


Four guys on Okada blocked our ride, two off ’em came down and one of them drew a pistol (m’believe I didn’t wanna know if irin tutu was real or fake)…first thing that came to mind…I threw my blackberry under the seat and stuck a hand in my pocket. Anyways, the hoodlums made away with my mum’s phones (surprising her with another phone today), her jewellery and our cash. These guys acted cool. It was obvious they were guys who stayed/operated within the area.


When we went to report at the police station, our “protectors” asked if we were sure the criminals had left, the number of guys that attacked and if they had guns before we could be attended too…I was amazed at the manner of questions these people put to us. Instead of getting off their lazy, sorry arses and arrest the area boys till someone coughed, they just…smh!!!


But while all these interrogations were on, and amidst writing our statements, one particular police woman made a statement which made me ponder; she said “This is the reason why police shouldn’t have been taken off the streets”


The statement was in a way very sensible. This is because, since the checkpoints were stopped, crime in Lagos had gone up. Ordinarily, the street where we were robbed had two police checkpoints. I doubt if that incident would have occurred if these policemen were there. The Nigerian Police Force could comprise of questionable personnel, but sometimes, their presence brings some level of sanity to our streets.


Even if we part with a few hundreds of Naira when accosted by the police, I’m still of the opinion that they should be back on the streets. Not necessarily at checkpoints, but more patrol cars should be given to them to make rounds in jurisdictions within their area commands.


A friend said it could be the police themselves sponsoring these criminals for the public to cry out for their presence on the streets, but how true can this statement be?


This is just my opinion on the matter. But I think Policemen are a necessary evil on our streets…

…or what do you think?


Hey y’all. Thanks for reading the first part of these insanely mad couple. Not many were happy with the ending, so this is the concluding part. Thanks once again to @mollysweety for helping out.



I’m stunned…I can’t believe Carla walked out on me like that…

I gather my wits…and clothes together and try to follow her. I catch up with her just as she’s about to get into a cab…

I hurry back to the house…luckily my keys are still in my pocket…

…I get into the car and follow at a distance…good, she’s heading home


 Yes! I won.. Storming out of his room hurriedly dressing up so I don’t get tempted to go back in..

I got out of the house and flagged down a cab and got in. Giving directions back to my place..
Just as the cab is about to drive off, I see him run out of the house trying to catch up, no not this time..
I had won, I heaved a sigh of relief and closed my eyes.. Yes, I won!


The cab stops in front of her apartment and she alights. I park just behind her car and dash in after her.

…I need answers for her behaviour tonight…and oh yes, imma get those answers…

I meet her just as she’s entering her flat. She doesn’t even pay attention to me. She drops her bag on the bean bag by the door…I try to block her, but she shoves me aside and heads to the kitchen…

…She returns with two tots of tequila, hands me a glass and just stares at me


I thought it was over.. I thought I had won.. But getting down from that cab and seeing him dash in after me, this could only mean one thing..
I’ll be needing a drink.
I drop my bag and head straight to the kitchen.. Poured two shots, he’ll be needing it to..
I hand him the glass without a word., just standing there staring..
This wasn’t gonna be easy..


For what seemed like hours…we just stare at each other…and then with our eyes…we have a conversation…unspoken words that meant a lot to the both of us.

One question escaped my mouth “Why?”

To which she just shrugs…

Then…I pull her close…

…The kiss…



“Why??”.. Damned if I know..
I just wanted to win, I guess..
I just shrugged and then he pulled me close..
… The Kiss …
Inevitable. Fire.,
Senses reeling, I grabbed the back of his head and deepened it..
This could only lead to one place..


Without delay, Carla pulls me to her room…

…The burning desire in her eyes


I wonder about the last hour. If she felt this way, why did she stop.

She tells me to sit on the bed and walks to her CD player and puts in OUR CD.

The voice of Usher in “Nice and slow” diffuses across the room…

…She looks at me, winks and bites her lower lip


Oh well.. I should have known things were gonna play out this way.. I might as well enjoy it..
Who was I kidding?  This was what I wanted! 
Pulling him to the room, I see the desire burning.. The feeling was mutual.
I tell him to sit on the bed and I turn our song on..
Perfect moment, perfect song.
I send him a wink and slowly bite my lip; The signal.
It was about to go down…


We kiss for what looks like forever. I flip Carla to her back. I kiss her forehead…nothing. Then the nape of her neck…a twitch. I trail kisses all the way to her belly button…her back arches a bit…

…I kiss her rose-bush and flick my tongue a bit…a moan…

…I go ahead and work her womanhood. My tongue boring, searching, excavating, digging, seeking the love waters of the vaginal borehole…

…SQUIRT!!! In my face!

“Take me now!!!”, Carla says.


“I’ve got to have you inside me”

Near violence, I shoved him back on the bed, yanked at his jeans. 
“I want to fill you. I want to watch you take me.”

“Hurry”.. My hands were already gripping his hips. 
Oh, to feel like that again, to know he would send me flying again.. 

“I can’t stand it.” I arched up to welcome..
He drove in, in one hard stroke. And froze…


Just as I’m about to thrust…I pause…

…She’s stunned. I look into her eyes. Why would I fight her? Take a look at her…her devilish innocence drives me wild

“I love you Carla”, I say as a teardrop rolls down my eye. She smiles, grabs my phallus and guides it into her. 

If sex was music, this would be the best song we’ve ever listened too

…With every thrust, she says ‘I love you baby’…words laden with tears…we go on…pictures of rushing waterfalls, acres of sunflowers, black and white ballet dancers flood through my mind as we climax together


I was scared he was about to flip the script on me…but instead, with tears in his eyes, he tells me he loves me…

…I am overwhelmed with emotions. i wanted to just connect physically, emotionally and spiritually with this man…

LOVEMAKING was the only way…and love making did we do….ending in a blinding climax

“Don’t ever leave me again..”
This was home.. I don’t care how many fights we’ve had or how many more we’ll still have..
“Don’t ever leave me.”


Hello people, its your boy Laru. Today, I thought I’d try something new, so I got Molade (@mollysweety) to co-blog with me on this one. This is the thoughts of a couple in love and their experience together. Read and leave a comment.


Carla! No one gets me this upset like Carla. Just take a look at her. Filing her already manicured nails and ignoring me like we didn’t just have an argument…third one in 4 days. Just to annoy her, I increase the speed of my car, this upsets her more, but that’s the point…


Here we go again! It’s always the same, after every argument..
We fight, I sulk and file my nails, he feels like I’m ignoring him, and then he does that thing he usually does with the car.
Boy, I really hate it when he does that.
I really don’t know what has him so upset though…


I march into the house with Carla trailing behind. I need a beer! As I crack open a bottle and Carla slaps the bottle out of my hand…it breaks into pieces as it falls to the ground.

I’m about to hit her and then the flood of emotions I feel for this lady rushes in. Carla isn’t the most beautiful woman in the world, but she’s the Yang to my Yin


Storming into the house, both enraged. He heads straight to the bar, I know he wants to get a beer.

I need a drink too, but we have to clear things up. In anger, I slapped the bottle out of his hand.
It crashed to the floor, shattered into a million tiny pieces..
Then the flare of anger in his eyes, I’d push him to the limit..
His hand raised, as if to strike.. Then he looked into my eyes..
And it all came back to him, I guess..

This is Carla, the one woman for him.. No matter how annoying she could be.. It was Carla.

So instead of hitting me, He drew me closer..


 Those slim shoulders firm up as I draw. Carla close.  She shudders at my touch. I gaze into her eyes. Diamonds! Its always like this. Explosive fights and an even bigger emotional re-alignment. She collapses in my arms. We are in this position for what seems like eternity and then I feel a quiver and a little sound…


.. I hate this feeling of weakness., 
I hate this, I hate him..

He touches my shoulder and I all but melt into his arms.
I feel myself shuddering but it isn’t out of fear..

This isn’t fear, it’s not weakness either.
It’s helplessness, hopelessness..
I’m hopelessly in love with this man. This man who makes me so angry and happy at the same time..

I touch my lips to his, lightly, fleetingly..
That little sound escapes through my lips., fuels his fire..

I hate this man.., oh how I Love this man..


 That sound could only mean one thing…she’s ready. Ready, willing and available. All I wanted was to break this woman off. And yeah, break will I do!

I sweep her off her feet, eyes closed and our tongues doing a remake of the titan wars, we head to the bedroom.

I put her down just by my Super-king-size bed. The illumination from the security light outside casts a glow into the room. From the light in the backdrop, Carla looks like a Madonna!

Without help, she takes off her little red gown and reveals the sexy lacy lingerie I bought her on Valentines…

…I let out my own sound!


.. This could only lead to one thing; Disaster.
And that’s what he was after.
He wouldn’t quit until I’ve been broken, like always.
And he had his ways..
But it was too late now..
The illumination from the security lights cast a warm glow over my body. Without help, I raised my hands taking the red dress with it.
He’s watching, eyes glued to my body.. Clad in only those red undies he got for me..
It had come to this, no turning back now..
I push him down on the bed, slowly taking off his clothes..
This time I’m in charge.
I straddle him, ready…
He’s half out of his mind, 
I lean towards him, exposing the beauties on my chest..
Biting his neck, I whisper into his ears..
And then I get up, pick my dress and walk out the room.
I slammed the door behind me.. It was really too late now..


She pushes me on the bed, takes off my clothes and gets on me…her favourite position. Nibbling my ear, cooing words I never believed existed.

Just like the unexpected…she gets up, grabs her things and storms out of the room.

I try to yell out…but my voice fails me…

…I just look down at my erect member, quivering like an expended arrow.




 .. As she always does.


After much persuasion from my friends and those who follow my blog, I’ve decided to write something after all. You can call this a rant, but its a matter that has bothered me for a while. I just feel I need to address it, else the trend would continue.


Yeah, when most of us see links to a new post by one blogger, some of us are quick to open the links and take time out of our ever busy schedule (even though some claim busy and tweet all day) to read these post. The other set of people just ignore the links and carry on with their businesses.


Take me for example, I love to read. Fiction or non-fiction, I love to read. It makes me aware of stuff. So when I see a link to a blog, I’m quick to open and read. It may not be my kind of stuff, but I know something is there for me to learn from.


But many people don’t go down that route (no sir). No disrespect to the bloggers I’m gonna mention now (identity withheld, but you’ll get the message; I #ff them and read their blogs). If many of you don’t see the link to ‘THE DIARY OF THE FORMER GEEK’, ‘THE RECORDS OF MISS D’, ‘TULA’S BLOG’ and the king of them all ‘THE BIRTHDAY SUIT CONVERSATIONS’ y’all don’t click on the links. The painful part is that some have wet pants if they don’t read these blogs in a day. Don’t misunderstand me, I love the above mentioned posts. I retweet the links to my followers on twitter and friends on facebook, especially if I find them to be a good read.


There are many unknowns out there with wonderful blogs, but they don’t get views. If they do, maybe just from close friends. Yesterday, I put up a post and sent the link as usual to twitter. I even DMed (Direct Messages, like an inbox…for non twitter users) the links to the Royalty of the Blogosphere hoping they’ll help post the link for their numerous followers to read (call me beggy beggy, its for a good cause) since their followers would only read stuff posted by them. But after several hours, no retweet from them. Almost like I was ignored. I was like…WTF!!! Just when I thought I was gonna launch someone into the blog world (I had a guest blogger yesterday), there was no one to view it…sigh!


I write to relive my mind. Its soothing for me. I don’t care if i don’t get a comment (like those who rush to say “I’m first to comment” on TNC). All I want is to pass across a message. I don’t wanna win an award as BEST BLOGGER OF 2012 or THE PEOPLE’S CHOICE IN THE BLOG WORLD. I just wanna have fun.






On the way back to the office a few weeks ago. My team members told our driver to pass a side street because of them wanted to get something. On getting to the actual street, we saw a lady walking down the road…a full figured woman. She was tall with boobs that’ll make Kendra Wilkinson look flat and well rounded buttocks. While our bus passed her, myself and the dude beside me (we usually sit at the back of the bus) turned to look at the babe…



…CHOI! The babe was breathtaking. Fine is an understatement. Beautiful doesn’t even quantify her. Dressed simply in a t-shirt, jean shorts and flip flops, it was obvious she was just taking a stroll. She had the look of a 20-year old lady. She caught our glimpse and laughed…a wholehearted laugh. Ah! The teeth…sigh!

The men in my team debated on whom to go after her. While their little banter went on, I told the driver to park while I alighted from the bus. So I went after her and introduced myself, spun some lyrics and shit…She told me her name was LD, she aint doing anything at the moment and…wait for the bombshell…






Trust omo boy not to believe such hocus-pocus. I just laughed and she laughed too. She then flipped her finger to show me a very small, cute rock. I told her any babe can give herself a ring. All this while, my team bus was driving slowly behind us while we walked. We got to the front of her house and a little girl came out and screamed “MUMMY!” My heart fell. I then asked her “who married you?” Cheeky right? But at that point I was drawn to her. I asked for her number but she declined and said it was cos of temptations. I just had to let her be.



LD is an example of the many married women out there who could still pass for a single babe. This is because they take very good care of themselves and not allow the weight of marriage pull them down. Many Nigerian women start ageing fast the moment they get married. Marriage is supposed to make you fresher and ease a lot of emotional baggage.



My friend Hot Mum 1 still goes clubbing with her husband. She would pass for a 21-year old girl. She dresses trendy and ‘knows what’s up’. Hot mum 2 and her husband came in for a friend’s birthday the other day and they looked like they were dating and not married. Even making jokes and laughing at us the ‘young’ ones. These ladies have been married for quite some time and have kids of their own but yet, you wouldn’t know it.



Many Nigerian women lose touch with their younger sides the moment they get married. They think it’s childish of them to go out at night and have fun. The annoying one is giving out their clothes and acquiring aso-oke materials like that’s what is in vogue and toning down their makeup.For the daring ones, using ankara as nightgowns. What happened to sexy lingerie…I will chase any woman who uses such as nightie.



I want to marry a lady who’ll still act the way she was before we tied the knot. We gotta go clubbing. She gotta be dressing hot to the point she will be toasted (I’ll kill any man who tries this though). My future wife has to compete with younger, unmarried babes. In America, such women are known as MILFs (Mum I’ll Love to F**k). What these women don’t know is that it reduces the risk of losing their men to other women (not unless the man is habitually promiscuous).



On a closing note, if you are married or about to marry, try, endeavour to keep being beautiful and trendy. Be called a HOT MUM. Make your husband proud to have you as a wife and you won’t regret the decision.

(This piece is dedicated to my hot mum friends Kunbi Mogaji, Vivienne Okikiposu and Yemi Keshinro).


Like every other night, I lay on my bed…deep in thought, but sad. My life flashes before me. I get up and walk around my modest home. I call it modest but other people see it otherwise. It’s a 6-bedroom house with all the paraphernalia of a good home. I stand by the window and pull back the curtains, I see the pool and beyond that my cars…4 in all.


If I have all these luxuries, why am I sad? I’m a 35-year old lady, a director in one of the big companies. So you can guess why I’m sad…you guessed right, I’m single. I’m the first in a family of 6 and my younger brothers and sisters are all happily married. I bear some of their problems but I don’t mind.

I’m still lost in the vortex of my mind when I hear a loud knock, more like banging on the door. I look at the time 22:46. Who could be at my door at this time? I look outside again, but I don’t see Musa my gatekeeper. I walk to the door and peep through the peep-hole to see Musa standing by the door.


“What is it?” I demanded.


“Madam, come see something for outside”, he replied.

I open the door and I’m hit by a heavy hand. Musa is pushed to the ground as 3 men, more like boys storm into the room.


“Where are your valuables?” they asked.


One of them grabbed my arm roughly and held me to my feet. I yelled in pain. 


“Be gentle with her. Let’s just take what we want and leave”, another said.


I looked up to see the voice that spoke and saw a handsome face. Not rough like most thugs are, but what you’ll call fresh. I studied him. He was well built, tall but his face was what attracted me to him. I’ve had my share of men, but there was something about this man.


He tore my arm away from his partner’s grip and asked me gently to give up all I had. I obliged them and gave out my jewellery and money. They took any other thing they could lay their hands on. All the while Handsome Face was looking at me and when I faced him, he looked away. If his friends tried to take anything that was very expensive, he told them to drop it. It caused a lot of in fighting, but I guess he was in charge.


When they were done, Handsome walked up to me and said if I could lend him one of my cars. I gave him the keys to my Prado jeep and also slipped him my complimentary card. Why I did that baffles me but I did. Soon after, they leave.


The following day I call in sick and decide to stay at home. I’m not worried about the theft, nothing the insurance companies can’t take care of. Just then my phone rings…


“Are you home?” a voice like honey asks over the line.


“Yes I am. Please who is this?” I reply. The line goes dead.


An hour after, I hear a soft knock on the door. I rise to open the door. Opening it, I see Handsome standing at the door. Without any warning, he grabs me and pushes me against the wall and kisses me. I kiss back with the same intensity…


…my body is on fire


…I ache all over


I pull out his shirt and run my hands over his hairy chest. He kisses the lobe of my ear, my nipples go hard.


“Let’s go to my room” I suggest.


In a flash we are in my room, tearing each other’s clothes off. We kiss…oh those kisses…with intensity so inflammable and so much burning passion. Throwing all caution to the wind, I slip under him and receive his phallus.


We make love. Sweet, passionate love. He grabbed my shoulders while he thrusts. I scream out in excitement and drive my teeth and nails into his back. Boy I can tell you one thing, Handsome is a sex god. As we explore each other’s mouths and make wild love, he digging his manhood into my vaginal abyss, we climax at the same time.


We talked. I got to know why he got into crime. Troy (Handsome’s real name) is a graduate who has struggled to get a job to no avail. I promise to help him get one. He apologizes for his misdeeds of the previous night. He jumps off the bed and gives me some of the items taken including my car keys. I shake my head and told him he can have them.


Taking me by surprise, Troy starts to cry. I take him up in my arms and rock him gently. He looked into my eye and I see something I’ve never seen in the eyes of my previous boyfriends and lovers…something unexplainable. We make love over and over again before he gets up to leave.


It’s been 2 years. Troy is doing great in a new company and here I am fulfilled. Oops! Lest I forget, I’m 4 months pregnant and Troy and I are getting married in 2 weeks…*winks* 


(This piece is dedicated to my friend Jumoke Smat @Smatkoschmann)





This post is a reply to my very good friend Tomiwa’s blog post (@MizzTej on twitter) “A man’s world?! says who?” (read on


Usually, I’m not one to delve into gender issues because its a never-ending topic. Its got its pros and cons, but it depends also on who is arguing. Nonetheless, my criticism to Tomiwa’s post will still be written.



Traditionally, the world as a whole is a patriachal based society, where the male species is seen as the head of the pack in the human race, with the women playing a secondary role. Even biblically, God created women to be a help-meet to man. Note HELP-MEET. She’s supposed to help the man. I don’t know the positions of other religions but the Almighty ordained that women are supposed to be supports to men.


Although there is something called THE GLASS CEILING SYNDROME, that is, the invisible barrier that limits people from achieving certain positions because of sex, race, religion, et.c., some women have attained peak positions in their various fields due to hardwork and dedication. But it is noteworthy that there exists limitations and difficulties. Note unless backs are scratched or libidos quenched (which is commonplace these days).


Every tribe, race and nationality is dominated by the men even though laws equating men with women have been enacted but, that still doesn’t change the prevailing issues.


Some of you ladies would say without women the men wouldn’t exist. I think that the only advantage the women have over men is CHILDBEARING. But you can’t even have kids without we guys shooting our load up your sexual abyss.


Well I wouldn’t blame you for the posts. You must have been gingered by fore-front feminine activists like Oprah Winfrey, Beyonce, et.c, but don’t forget even these women face male opposition.


You wanna be doctors, engineers, pilots et.c., fine go ahead be that, but you can’t be fathers, popes and the like.


Just stay the way you are and continue to be the reasons why you were created- supporting pillars to the male building. I’m not being chauvinistic but practical. So…



    “who run the world girls…

     who run the girls, boys…

     so, who run the world…BOYS!!!”


The following takes place between 12:00am and 4:00am (cue in 24 beeping soundtrack)…


As I creep stealthily down the murky, dark tunnel, I begin to feel claustrophobic…but I edge on and on. The President is counting on me, the Nigerian citizens are counting on me. The weight of a whole nation (about 150million of them) rests upon my shoulders.


I am Special Agent Ade McLaru of the Triage Special Ops Division of the Secret Service. I’m only called upon when emergencies like this come up and for rare special duties. That is because I’m the best out there. My mission: To turn off the nuclear bomb that former Minister for Defence, Alhaji Ibrahim Dan Musa just activated and bring the culprit to book. This is a one-man operation. I cannot fail.


The tunnel is dark, damp and slimy especially around the edges, making movement a little difficult for me…I trudge on. I get to a fork in the tunnel and consult the rough diagram the insider gave to my team. I take a left and then…


…its a 7-foot fall to the bottom


…I land with a thud, soft but I try not to make a noise. I’m in the room preceeding the infra-red infested space. I’m prepared for this. I bring out my mechanical cat and mice, prep em up and semd them to the infr-red ozone…and wait. A few seconds later, the alarms go off. I’m positive the cameras would pick up the feline and its rodent friends. It would take about 10mins before the alarms can be turned off and reset. I have to be quick.


I dash across the room. I stop in front of the large metal doors leading into the VORTEX. I splash the lime solution on the electronic combination locks. It reveals numbers 1,2,3,4,8,9 as frequently punched, but number 4 looks like it has been punched twice. My brain box kicks into gear…Alhaji Musa’s birthdate 24.3.1948. I punch in the combination 2431948…P.O.P!…the large doors swing open.


A pause.


My breathing heavy…


The room is empty. Completely cleaned out.


The hairs on the back of my neck stand up on edge. Spiderman’s so called spidey senses got nothing on what I’m feeling at the moment.


I swing my arm just in time as it catches the assailant in the jaws. With another quick set of moves, he’s disarmed and unconsious. I bring out the smelly salts from my satchel and hold it up to my prisoner’s nose and he comes alive.


After almost an hour of torture, he reveals that beneath the VORTEX is the nuclear bomb. After extracting my information, I knock him off again.


I set out to look for the opening. For someone trying to hide something, musa was not smart enough to conceal the trap door launcher, albeit I admit it took a while locating it. I get it opened.


The sheer size of the bomb gets me distorted for a few seconds, but suffice it to say a Boeing 747 looks like a bicycle next to an 18-wheeler, thats how big this bomb is.


I set to disarm it. I work feverishly on it in the dark not to give myself out. Just as I’, about to pull the last wire…


I’m blinded by bright lights and a splitting sound ringing in my ears and someone calling out my name.


My mom, standing by the switches of my bedroom…and the bedside alarm still blaring…


“Denrele! Denrele!! Wake up, its almost 6am. Get up so you dont get late for work!”


What tha…so it was all a dream!


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