Ramadan...

Okay, so it’s the much anticipated Muslim month of Ramadan. For yall Christians who have only bits of info, Ramadan is the fasting month for Muslims. It consists of 29 or 30 days of fasting depends on when the new moon is sighted. During that period, one has to be as pure as they can possibly be. For most, that means, no alcohol, no sex, no inappropriate contact, in fact no contact with any non-relative who is a member of the opposite sex. Okay, nuff with the dry sentences. This is the deal

Yours truly has made her list of Ramadan do’s and don’ts. I present to you...rude girl’s Ramadan’s strategies and limitations 

·         Rude girl shall try her possible best not to listen to music that will induce thoughts of well-chiselled abs and sexy British accents.

·         Other forms of music that shall be prohibited to rude girl include:

1.      Taylor swift and her hullaballoo of boys, girls, and all the amazing possibilities between them.

2.      Songs, that induce thoughts of going over to say hi to cute boys that live on street with her

3.      In fact, songs that contain the word boy or girl

...yeah right...

·         Rude girl shall not surf the net excessively for rudegirl is very adept at “accidentally” venturing into sites that are not Ramadan-friendly

·         Rudegirl shall not watch movies where some certain “choice words are used” nor view movies where certain male and female Hollywood hotties act out the fantasy of nearly 85%  of world female population...team Edward fans..beware!!!!..I’m not dissing before you curse me digitally.

·         Rude girl shall reduce social networking to the barest minimum, because some certain twitter “trending topics” will appeal to the vile disser in her and she may spew forth from her fingers obscenities that will cause father and mother to blush irrationally with shock

·         Rude girl shall time the use of her blackberry seeing that it is a newly acquired “toy” and the urges to grab and use to the fullest are still steaming inside her, rudegirl has decided to have a timetable for bb use. It shall be locked safely in mother’s hand lest I develop light fingers and steal it from myself.

·         Rudegirl shall not entertain thoughts of beating the crap out of one certain family member (she-who-shall-not-be-named)

·         Rude girl shall cease to be rudegirl and go back to being the jeans wearing, non person who speaks her mind (whether it’s at the right time or not), meek, conformist that she will never be on a normal day.

·         Since certain talents of rudegirl have to be put on hiatus, rudegirl shall find other Islamic induced ways to have fun and be cheeky.

·         Rude girl shall post blogs, devoid of cruel cheeky humour and shall concentrate on love for fellow man...I hope so..

·         In, summary, rudegirl shall become good girl.

And on the last day if Ramadan, I shall leap into the heavens, thanking God for another fasting witnessed, and in that moment, rude girl shall re-appear and good girl shall disappear..till next year when new list is composed and cycle begins all over again.

Ramadan Kareem

Xoxo

rUdEgIrL

Oops I forgot, the most important aim of all

Rudegirl shall finally lose the rest of the extra weight she has acquired form 4.5 months of non -stop dissing and eating.......I AM NOT BLOATED O..all you haters..I’m still fab enough for those dudes to testify to God...ciao...lol

Things I hate bout you

So, after watching again the movie “10 things I hate about you”, I got inspired to write my own poem on the love-hate triangle that has plagued humanity for since the word love came into existence. Now, I’m not much of a poet, so spare me in the criticisms.

I hate the way I react to you

I hate the way you change my moods

One moment, I’m confident and cool

The next I’m a blubbering angry mess because of you

I hate it when you pay me too much attention

But hate it more when you barely display any affection

I hate the way you strip me of words

Walking away leaving me in awe       

I hate the way I react very strongly

Because I hate you annoying me so easily

I hate it so much it makes me sick

But worst of all I hate

Knowing that I can’t hate you

Movie critique

Movie critique.

I put a lotta thought into deciding which movie industry I should focus on. So, I picked out the three main ones and screened them.

·         Nollywood: I am a proud Nigerian, but if I decide to attack our so called “advancing movie industry” I would proly get on the bad sides of a lotta people. So, YOU’RE OUT! (bangs judge’s mallet on table)

Which leaves me with Bollywood and Hollywood..of which I shall gladly start...

Wait a minute...

I am sooooo re-including Nollywood. After all, I am a proud African.

Bollywood:

·         These people have taken love to another level entirely. Nawa oh. Eh-hen. Is it by force to sing when you’re in love? I mean. What do they want cockroach-voiced people like me to do? And, why don’t they put fat people heh? So, in other words, fat people cannot fall in love with resident hunks and sing under tress like people high on weed ba? Look to the left, you’ll here singing. Look to the right, you’ll see dancing. I mean, what if one day, you’re walking down the street and you see your sister/brother dancing and prancing round singing with voices that sound like a dog with asthma and my daddy after a good meal (P.S: THAT voice is BAD).

·         Secondly, up until recently I was starting to get the idea that these people never brushed their teeth. Otherwise, why is it that, they will touch every available contour and ridge of the girl and never kiss? Don’t they manufacture toothpaste in India?

·         These goes out to all females who happen to be dumb, sorry I used that word enough to actually think any 9ja boy (that is straight) will carry you under a tree and start singing “Obimo, Samo, Obimo, bebe mo, Omalichanwa”..NA LIE OH!!!!

To be fore warned is to be fore armed..back me up guys

Nollywood:

·         These people are the ones that crack me up the most. You see one of the reasons I love 9ja people so much is their inherent ability to come up with funny bullshit. Once I was browsing thru an airline magazine and I came across this article that said “How to make a Nigerian movie in 10 steps”. I vividly remember steps 8. It said: on the movie poster, put the face of about three famous 9ja actors/actresses whether or not they are in the film. E.g. Desmond Elliot wearing a medical coat in a movie titled “When the Kolanut said no” (the title was from me..big ups to Effiong Okpo for citing title)

·         Themes have never passed the following:

·         My jealous stepmama wan kill me because I married a rich man

·         Money Ritual

·         Prostitute meets a man who changes her

·         My in-laws hate me because I have no child

·         Play boys and Play girls..otherwise known as ahewos

And finally...

·         You ever noticed that all 9ja films end the same way in their advertisement ...blah blah blah. Full of suspense, action, intrigue.

A must see..Grab your Copy..NOW!!!

rUdEgIrL

The average day in my house

5:30 am

     Mum walks in and begins to holler at us for sleeping to deeply. We as usual wait for her recitation on how we as good Muslim children should always wake up on reflex when we hear the call to prayer. Mu sisters and I just chill and we take the moment to steal some sleep cuz she’s gonna be there for the next five minutes.

5:35 am

     As if on cue, we both look up and tell her, “were not sleeping, we’ve heard you ma”. That is her signal for exiting. Now the problem begins me and my sis both would love to catch a few more minutes of sleep, so we stare at each other mentally willing the other to get up and use the bathroom first. I win in most cases (Imma bad girl)

5:40 am

     I’m up. I say my prayers and stumble back into bed reminding myself not to sleep late again so I can wake up early for morning prayers the next day. (P.S:I’ve been doing that since may). Back to sleep land.

8:00 am

     Aargh, this is one of the reasons I hate dad being at home. Having to wake up and make his breakfast by that time. The man too dey chop sef. Ah-han! Trust me, I don’t stand up on my own, mummy has to come and wake me up...again. This time, it takes me nearly 20 minutes to get up because its like as soon as I make an attempt to leave the bed, sleep just slaps me on the face-HARD and pushes me right back in. This is not a joke, it feels exactly that way. Ok not a slap, more like holding my neck and shoving me among the sheets. At least I get up, I didn’t lie to her that I was having cramps so my sister would do all the work that day. Now that is not meanness, I’m just helping her discover her home keeping potential. I’m such a good sister!

10:00 am

     Nearly everyone is done with breakfast. Now the mini-drama starts. Who to wash the dishes. My immediate younger sister (Il call her mimi for now) and the last born (Il call her riri). Mimi says she cant wash the plates cuz she washed dinner last night. Riri counters her argument by saying she already told mimi since they woke up that she was gonna wash dinner plates today, therefore mimi has to wash breakfast. As for me, I’m just laughing because, I AINT WASHING NO PLATES! Serves them right. This was how I used to feel when mummy used to tell me they were too small and I would do all the washing then. Good luck girls!

12:00

     THE PLATES ARE STILL UNTOUCHED. Lol. This people think I’m gonna play the elder sister card and be sympathetic or simply get irritated at their petty arguments and wash it for em. LIE!!! I know how to play the game too. Il be chilling with my movies girls!. NO SYMPATHY!!

12:30 noon

     Seeing as they have no choice, one of em gives in. By, now tis time to prepare daddy’s lunch.  Will he just have a gastric bypass for heaven’s sake or just go on a friggin diet!

1:30 pm

     Mamma drama: mummy comes in and starts to holler...again? yes..again. This time its about how she doesn’t fathom three girls who have not takes baths since morning. Yes o. That’s what three months of a messed up vacation can do to you. The good news is, we always shower before the day ends. Then she takes time to give out fresh orders which she repeats bout a billion times that change your mood from annoyance to amusement. She sure uses those vocal cords. She will not stop until we get our asses up and do whatever it is. Even then, she might squeeze in a few more.

3:00 pm

     Bath time. Im in the bathroom musing bout how lack of activity has given me some extra weight. Damn you Hollywood for making slim the it thing. I remind myself that as soon as I get to school and start being active, itl all go away..I hope.

**The next 45 minutes is spread between shower time for three girls**

4:00pm

     Mummy comes to remind us to pray. Prayer’s said, we surf the net, or watch a movie. Since mum and dad are constantly hogging the t.v all day long, our only source of fun is the internet and our laptops..thank God for laptops o. When I pass, dad tells me he has never seen me reading since I got home. Mentally, I’m like dude..I’m in uni, I change my courses every semester with no idea what the course topics are..abi should I carry any statistics textbook I see and start solving? wtf?

5:30 pm

     Dinner preparations..again..mern It aint easy. Lunch plates are washed without any hassling. Thank God. I go out and get the next season of whatever series it is i’m currently hooked on to. (just concluded smallville btw on to the hills). The rest of the day is free...

6:30

     If PHCN are feeling queasy, the generator comes on. And mummy finds a new issue to holler about. Mimi not doing something, or she reminding riri to get her clothes from the line.

7:00pm

     Prayer time..and yes mummy is in action again.

8:00pm

     Serve dad’s meal and go back to using my trusty sidekick (laptop). I’m thinking of naming her the way boys name cars..petunia maybe? Heck no

**no hassles again till bed time where I remind myself to sleep on time**

**..yeah right... like I ever listen to that**

** God I love my family**

Big tings..big dreams

**If anyone who happens to have attended the same secondary school with me or is currently enrolled in my university is reading this, please do not, I repeat, DO NOT poke fun at me. As odd as it sounds, these dreams have crossed my minds not as random ideas, but have frequently popped up in my head nearly every day.** And now, I proceed...

            I love Hollywood, movies, I love The United States of America, I love Ellen DeGeneres, nearly all my role models one at one time or the other in my short life so far has been an American. Ben Carson, Oprah Winfrey, Ellen DeGeneres, Angelina Jolie, Paris Hilton (HELL NO!!!..Though I once used to wish I was her sister with the way her credit cards always got a good workout routine).The thing in particular I’m in ,ove with is the concept of individualism and freedom to express yourself, in anyway. Now I’m definitely not a fan of homosexuals, but the fact that they were allowed to be themselves, (and I know, YES they struggled to be accepted). Now they even have their own awards GLAAD awards.

Now  a lotta people say, I like America so much because my life has literally been transfers from one prison to another. Home is a prison. Secondary school in a village ina dry state and now university in the worst possible northern state for me to finally have a brief taste of that freedom .yola...kai! Now yall are proly thinking im one of those girls who will go nuts once I have the chance. No I won’t. I’m smart enough to see where that often leads to.

Okay so back to my dreams. It started out with me watching E!’s true Hollywood stories and seeing how so many actors didn’t come from silver spoon backgrounds. Some of them were so shit poor, my imagination couldn’t even get to that level, and that is saying something. Then it progressed to me learning lines from movies I had seen. I also, began to notice the character roles that usually got Oscars. Most of them involved quite an amount of emotional breakdowns involving tears. I don’t mean your usual tears mixed with crying, I meant, silent tears or tears that came with speeches. I became fixated with them .Everyday, I would stand in front of the mirror and try to put myself in the characters shoes and cry. I only got as far as wetting my eyes with tears. None actually ever managed to spill over. Till I got my solution, I would watch a sad romantic movie and with that in mind, the tears would just come, or better still, I would listen to the soundtrack of the scene that brought me to tears.

I have dreams of becoming an actress someday, not permanently, though, I hate the paparazzi.I also have dreams of writing and producing a true life story. I don’t have huge plans and all. What I really still want to do is write, investigate and report news, but a little of Hollywood will make it all worthwhile.

P.S: I also wanna be a covergirl

P.P.S: and a supermodel

P.P.P.S: and a bestselling author

P.P.P.P.S: and erm...lol I was kiddn..bout the P.S-es ..well, except the cover girl part..for vogue or Elle to be precise.

You know you love me

xOxO

rUdEgIrL

randomzzz

 Random title? Yeah, I know. Its one of those moments where I have so many random teenage thoughts swirling through my head, but none carries that extra weight to publish a whole blogs worth of topic. If my last sentence made no sense, you still know what I mean so quit correcting me.

So, I have some “miniature-sized bumps” on the smooth plane of skin that I call my face. Why? My family has no history with pimples or any other facial complications, so why am I the one. I know some people might ask why I’m freaking out because of a few “bumps”, not pimple, mind you. I asked my mum, and she said they were mosquito bites. Thank you so much PHCN for limiting my toasting opportunities..lol..jokes

So, I basically live in an area where the only friend I have happens to be my cousin. The other few teenagers happen to be either sad excuses for humanity or they are male species. Now we wouldn’t want daddy to have a fit if one of them decides to holler at my house, so I’m sticking to prevention better than cure.

I’m sitting here listening to red jumpsuits apparatus’s-guardian angel. Excellent song by the way, if you like guitars. Red jumpsuit apparatus. Who in the world comes up with a name like that for a group/band? They’ve got amazing vocals though. Damn I forgot what my next sentence was. That’s been happening a lot to me lately. I hope it’s not early amnesia.

Oh yes, before I forget. IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN INCEPTION, STEAL, BORROW, MONEY AND/OR DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO SEE IT. ..Or you could just go to the cinemas and pay. That movie, I believe slapped James Cameron and his amazing writing and directing skills right across the face...HARD!!!. Also, some peeps have been saying stuff bout dull people not understanding the movie. As for me, I think, as long as you graduated high school..without any corner corner, you’re fine. Well, except you’re extraordinarily retarded. Big ups the director..what’s his name again?..damn I forgot. Oh well.He also directed the dark knight which I do not need to tell you was a HUGE success, even thought I really didn’t see the fanciness.(I preferred the book)..

Okay, so yes, yall have seen the intellectual pathway of randomly intelligible erm..erm..thoughts.yes thoughts passing through the head of rudegirl tonight.

**peace**