The bolded remarks are her comments, while my arguments follow suit:
Our ex is so for a reason. Sizing him up & giving him d evil eye when u meet smacks of lack of confidence & low self-esteem.
It’s called ‘The Establishing of the Alpha Male’. Checking out who is boss. It’s a male thing. Something you can’t understand if you don’t produce testosterone so don’t worry yourself. What I don’t understand is why you insist I should keep a 30 feet radius distance from my exes even when we’re still good friends? And don’t play that ‘ex’ card, not even all our exes are so for a reason. Tread softly.
When we ask “do u love me?”, we’re looking 4 reassurance not information. We know u do, but humour us, will ya?
You know what? Lets save ourselves all the trouble, ok? I’m going to tattoo, ‘Yes I do’ on my biceps. So when you ask me for the one…hundred…thousandth time, all I have to do is expose my arm and flex my biceps at you. I’m wasting so much saliva on that topic I’m getting seriously dehydrated.
Your mother’s cooking is fantastic, we know. But remember, she’s had longer practice. So cut us some slack if ours isn’t up to par.
Believe me; I know that only too well. I’m not expecting you in any cooking competition in the near future. All I need is for you to, at least, switch the salt and water ratio. Seriously I’m wondering if I’m eating from The Dead Sea. Bleah!
Sex is sex, not a class of food! And make-up sex will only come after we’ve thoroughly discussed d spat.
Really? You are so behind the times. Haven’t you heard of the seventh class of food? I’m beginning to see the symptoms of its deficiencies in you. Make up sex? Bah! That’s all cosmetic bullshit, all overrated. Leave the makeup out; let me have just the plain vanilla version. And about the discussion, can I get back to you on that? I’m already on my way to see the Chelsea-Man U match.
Grabbing ur crotch in public is embarrasing. Do u need to check that often to know ur johnson’s still there?
It’s not ‘grabbing my crotch’; it’s called ‘TLCing my Mini-Me Production Manager’. I’m being appreciative of his always being there for me and for the good services rendered and for not being a disappointment. Something you obviously need a lesson in.
Don’t flirt with another gal when we’re not around. We’ll find out cos our grapevine’s better than urs & then u’ll b in hot soup.
Like we don’t already know? We were counting on the news getting to your grapevine. We noticed our food tastes a little better, you show more attention and care and you stop bugging us for unnecessary and expensive gifts when we do. Do you think it is a coincidence it happens mostly around festive periods? Or that we mostly ‘chyke’ your friends, or the friends of your friends? It’s just to keep you on your toes, baby.
So what if our yes sometimes means yes, no or maybe? It takes a mature & sensitive man to know which is which. So, are you?
If I wanted puzzles, honeybunch, I’d go to the nearest newsstand and check out The Guardian’s crossword or Sudoku section. Have you looked those words up in a dictionary lately? You know what? Next time its ‘Opposite Day’, give me a memo, will you? A little heads up will go a long way in preventing a communication fiasco. I’m mature. I’m sensitive. I’m just not crazy.
We love soccer too, but hearing about Tevez or Messi all d time is boring.
You love soccer? That’s news to me. We didn’t mean for you to tag along on our boys time; we don’t barge in on your girls’ time out, do we? So run along now. Go knit some sweater, play ‘oga’ or do whatever it is you girls do. And guys, like I was saying about my preference of Messi’s footwork to Tevez’s before….
Mariah Carey & Angelina Jolie are hot, so what? It pisses us off when youu say it, so stuff it!
So you do know that Mariah’s got some impressive chest endowments that make one giggle like he smoked mutant weed and that Angelina’s 17-18-19 is a Weapon of Mass Destruction that ruptures eyes and implode brains? Stop being jealous, dear. I’ve got an idea. I’ll take you to the next Naeto C, Tu face or M. I. concert, yes boss, and if you as much as yell, ‘Tu baba, I love you!’, I’ll clobber you upside your head and file for break up. And your chests are off-limits for autographs, ok?
Considering our stock of very sharp kitchen knives, and your face like a model posing for a ‘thunder face’ painting, I think it is prudent, in the interests of self preservation, for me to sleep out tonight….and tomorrow…until next week. I’ll be over at Chuks house where we’ll be drinking beer, playing Pro-Evolution Soccer on his PS3 all night and talking about Mariah’s chesticles. Don’t bother knocking; it’s not the New Testament, he won’t open to you. And, for the love of heaven, don’t go banging on the Military Barracks gate asking them for a machine gun like you did last time.
*shoots out of the door and shuts it before the cooking stove she threw could hit the target*
By Ebuka Igbokwe