Facebook love or madness (1), by Anurika Onyelemelam

“You’re bullshitting me, Uncle John!”
“I’m not bullshitting you, Julie!”
“You’re too!”
“I’m not! Swear to God! Cross my heart and hope to die. It happened!”
“You mean say the babe no get hand?”
“I tell you, na only one hand the babe get!”
I burst into laughter. I couldn’t believe it. What on earth is happening on our multi-social media these days? Lies, deceit, fraud, sex and what have you!
Guess you’re wondering what the heck I’m discussing with Uncle John. I will tell you, but first…Ha! Ha! Ha!
God, I just love a good laugh.
This is the joke. Imagine preparing yourself as a guy that you’re going to bang a babe senseless…bang her until she’s reeling with shock or pleasure, depending on the type of waves the guy’s one eyed snake dishes out.
Then you saw her and bam! You’re rooted with shock…your wits leave you momentarily…then you gathered your scattered wits and run like the hounds of hell were after you.
That was what happened to Uncle John.
But Uncle John is just being the drama king here. I mean, does a babe need to have two hands to be able to be good in bed? What has two hands got to do with her honey well?
Is there any difference between the ‘Honeywell’ of a one-handed babe and that of a babe with two hands?
Ok….ok…I can see you’re getting impatient to understand the crap I’m talking about.
It’s Facebook o! There’s so much fraud attached to it these days. I wonder why!
Human beings are terrible creatures. They always misuse anything good. But tell me, who is misusing Facebook? Is it the guy who connects with a babe or the babe who allows herself to be led into the slaughter slab of the guy’s bedroom or hotel room and slaughtered sexually on his bed?
Here’s the scenario of what happened: I don’t know whether Uncle John joined Facebook just for the fun of it or to connect with babes.
I no dey inside the guy’s mind. I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer an explanation.
You and I know that so many people these days don’t join Facebook because they want to chat or get information. No way!
Anyway, he saw this pretty babe’s profile on Facebook, connected with her and they soon became friends. I heard that on her profile, she had a flowing hairstyle, nice smile and the face of an angel. A face a guy can die for…a body a guy will always salivate and dream of…
Anurika Onyelemelam didn’t know how many days, weeks or months they chatted before they agreed to meet.
Uncle John deliberately went there late. When he drove into Mr. Biggs at Maryland Bus Stop in Lagos State, he didn’t immediately jump out from his car. He tried to observe the babe unobserved.
His eyes logged unto her…BAM!…a gong of alarm went off in his bed…he couldn’t believe his eyes. The girl he had been dreaming to bang has one hand! The other hand was noticeably missing…either chopped off…or born that way?
How had he missed seeing it on her profile? Ha! Yes, her ‘flowing hair’ covered the missing arm! Clever girl!
Whatever, Uncle John didn’t wait to know. He reversed his car and drove out of the place like the hounds of hell were after him.
He was furious…he was angry. He got home, called her and gave her a piece of his mind. His anger was not so much that he missed a good bang, but that she was deceitful right from the beginning. He didn’t see anything wrong in banging a babe with one hand, he said. I don’t believe him. Why the fuss then? But he sure was pissed that she didn’t see it fit to tell him since they had been connecting and chatting that she was one handed.
Another experience from another guy…let him tell the story himself.
“We met on Facebook. We started chatting and got on so well. We exchanged numbers. She used to call me every midnight. It was so sweet.
“A few months later, I invited her to come around for us to formalize the relationship. She was so happy and I was also happy because I had become fond of her. We fixed a day to meet at my place. I gave her direction on how to get to my place. It was on a Saturday, 4pm to be precise. I asked her to call me on my line once she gets to Maryland.
“Few minutes after 4pm, she called that she was already at Maryland. I asked her to give me 10 minutes that I would soon be with her. My cousin, Eddy, went with me. I decided to call her to find out the type of clothes she was putting on.
“I called again when I got to the venue and noticed one overly mature lady waiting impatiently by the entrance of the eatery. My heart jumped in fear. Could she be the one? God please no, never! Don’t let this Iya Agba be the babe o!
“I called and waited. Sure enough, the Iya Agba picked the call. Awww…men! My eager manhood dropped off into a frustrated sleep. How could she trick me so! She’s one of those women who seem to have a phobia for growing old. She was in spaghetti top and arse fitting jean. Her make-up was too heavy…fixed nails, fake eyelashes and the rest of the war paint! Her stomach was sagging, sign that she must have been through with babies. Her boobs were also straining to let loose from the bra leash.
Even though the bra she wore was, ‘Oshodi Oke’ sorts, valiantly trying to force the boobs to jettison the status quo, but the stubborn boobs  maintained the status quo, looking downward in defeat.
But even all these fineries couldn’t hide the fact that she was an old woman!
“I was in my car, watching her. She was the exact opposite of the person I saw on Facebook…the lady I fell in love with. I told my cousin to reverse the car. We drove off. Yes, I left her standing and waiting at the front of the eatery. She called for several hours but I didn’t pick. I was filled with righteous anger. I revisited her profile again. I came to the conclusion that she used one of her daughter’s pictures as her profile pictures. I mailed her an angry mail immediately.
“I said to her: “You should have told me that you’re looking for a man who will help you to train up your children. I know that you’re a mother of over six children…Nonsense! You think I don’t know? I know you!”
This pen is tired…will continue next week….