This poor girl just keeps on falling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fall so many times in such a short amount of time. The shoes don’t look so high, so I wonder what was really going on. I know that sometimes it’s not easy to be steady on heels, but damn. I would have honestly vexed and taken off the shoes. The person behind her is struggling to not laugh, and the girl beside her has a WTF look on her face.

It’s a different kind of fall cause it’s not like she’s hitting something or tripping on a cord. And she sure doesn’t even look drunk. My guess is that she got a tranquilizer shot. Why else would her ankles be so bendy? Even the wide shot of the video shows her still falling and getting up. And falling and getting up. And more falling and getting up. I laughed so hard that I almost pee’d on myself.

But girl (her name is Diane), you got your degree! And your fellow graduates will never forget this day because of you. Congratulations. You have no idea how many people’s day you have made (and will continue to make) better with this fall of yours.

P.S. This is even funnier that Funmie falling on her ass, wide legs open with NO underwear.

P.P.S. And even while we were in Miami, she fell down twice on the staircase. On the same day.

The post Chronicles Of A Falling Graduate appeared first on Verastic.

The book discusses their marriage and journey and all that kind of good stuff. I don’t know if I will read the book, but I do find the cover photo to be very, very beautiful. I might be wrong, but I think she’s wearing her wedding dress in this photo? Anyway, it’s a lovely photo. Cynthia Bailey is a very beautiful woman, and she and her husband complement each other quite well.

Go Cynthia!

The post Cynthia Bailey And Her Husband, Peter Thomas Have A New Book! appeared first on Verastic.

The first night he was gone was the hardest. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. The house was so quiet, too quiet. It was just me and my gadgets, and as much as I loved using them, they were not people. I started from March to look forward to June. I went to bed early that first night, but it was torture because I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to sleep. But I didn’t want to stay awake either.

The next morning, I woke up early and once again, had no idea what to do with myself. There was no one demanding pancakes, bacon, and sausage. So at 9AM in the morning, I went to the mall, just for time to move. I came home before The Verastic Show started, and I won’t lie, the show helped me for the two hours it was on. Being without Igwe became less difficult as time passed, but it was never easy. His brother, Olamide must have called me like every other day to check up on me (Thanks, Olamide!). And Funmie and Uju were sweethearts as usual. That said, I have learned some lessons, and I want to share:

1.  Long distance is HARD. It’s HARDER when you’ve been together [physically] for so long.

2.  The fear of agro is the beginning of sexual wisdom. I have never, ever been the type to have lack of sex as a problem. I’ve gone years without it and not even thought much of it. But with Igwe being gone, it was ridiculous. I’ll never forget this one random Thursday that I thought about sex from dusk till dawn. It was pretty bad.

3.  Nigerian networks are possibly the number one reason for heart attacks in Nigeria. Igwe had three phones, and sometimes, I couldn’t talk to him on any one. We’ll talk on one till the reception disappears. Then we’ll switch to another one. And another one. There were times I’d call and it’d tell me that the number I was calling did not exist. Or his line would get crossed to someone else’s line. Or we’ll be talking and I’ll be hearing someone else’s conversation. I mean!

4.  Nigeria is expensive. I don’t know why people say it’s cheap, but it’s EXPENSIVE! I don’t know how we made it by. I don’t mean to sound like a cliché, but I really, really give God all the glory for making things happen and making our ends meet.

5.  When a man travels to Nigeria for three months, he comes back as a ravenous sexual beast, where the mere touch of a bare breast has him calling his God.  And that’s all I’m going to say on this. Insert coy smirk here.

6.  When a man travels to Nigeria for three months, he also comes back needing to be reacquainted with Obodo Oyibo. On our way home from the airport, Igwe marveled at the nice highway and buildings, and at some point, he asked, “There’s light, right?” To which I replied, “Where do you think you are?” When we came back home, he lay flat on the floor for a few minutes. The carpet smelled good. He opened the fridge several times, excited at it for reasons I cannot explain. He opened all the kitchen cabinets, too. Even the faucet put a big smile on his face. On the first night home, we slept with the lights on because the darkness reminded him too much of Nigeria. He kept saying he was hopeful that Nigeria would be this way (like America) some day. Not just the Island in Lagos, but Nigeria as a whole.

7.  When a man is away from everything that is familiar to him and he is in desperate need of help, sometimes, that is the time he discovers his true friends. And the discovery isn’t always an easy pill to swallow.

8.  I have learned that I am stronger than I think. This realization is a double-edged sword. Sure, I am happy that I am stronger than I think. But sometimes, I feel like God is continually trying and testing my strength, and I really wish He wouldn’t.

9.  Igwe and I have become even closer. Being away from each other required a lot of trust, and I am not talking about trust because of infidelity. That was never an issue at all. The trust we needed was for far greater things that I cannot even talk about to anyone. At least not yet.

10.  Apparently, I don’t really care to cook. You know I cook, right? I usually show you my food sometimes via my iCook posts. But when Igwe traveled, I stopped cooking. I think I cooked stew once or twice. And I cooked pasta a couple of times, but after that, I was done. My meals consisted of frosted flakes, honey nut cheerios, yogurt, Chipotle, and of course, free food from Funmie’s house. I have decided that when I grow up, I must have a chef at home cause I ain’t about this cooking life.

11.  Big dreams require big sacrifices, and this is ours. So we hope to God that He sees us through, as He always does.

Amen.

The post Igwe Traveled For Three Months … And I Learned Some Lessons appeared first on Verastic.

Lessons In Love by Lara Daniels

If you haven’t heard about Lara Daniels, it’s okay. You’re here now, so you can find out more about her and her book, Lessons In Love. I have not read the book, so don’t consider this post as a review. If you have read it, feel free to drop a comment and tell us all about it. If not, I hope you read it.

About Lessons In Love:

Fourteen months ago, Tara Olu-Browne quit her well paying job to follow her heart: Become a full time romance writer. Her decision is paying off, until she agrees to write for Black Desire, a new romance publisher set to turn out books that will appeal to a West African audience. Black Desire is headed by business mogul, Jimi Akintaylor and while he says he enjoys Tara’s previous works, he is critical of her current manuscript calling the love scenes improbable. Tara is left with two choices: quit writing for Black Desire or suck up her pride and request pointers from Jimi on how she can improve on the love scenes. She chooses the latter, and realizes too late that she just signed up for some very practical lessons in love.

Available now at Amazon. 

Excerpt from Lessons In Love:

We’re now in his kitchen. He lets go of my hand. I doubt if any cooking ever takes place here. It’s so clean. So new. So contemporary. It ought to be in a museum. I lean against the granite countertop while he strides across to the very modern stainless steel fridge – I’ve not seen the likes of this before; in magazines, maybe. From where I stand I see the refrigerator is well stocked – all kinds of flavored drinks and a wide variety of assorted snacks. He mechanically procures a coke and tonic water from the fridge, empties it into two tall glasses which he has retrieved from the cabinet above the fridge. Then he reaches over to the wine cellar and brings out a bottle.  He twists off the cap and shortly pours it into the glasses. He carries both cups and turns to face me. His eyes glow with something I can’t decipher.

“Here,” he says, handing me one of the drinks. He is close enough for me to smell his crisp, mesmerizing scent, and frankly, it disconcerts me.

I eye him doubtfully. Truth be told, I’m nervous. I’ve told this man I want him to sleep with me and he hasn’t given me a reply.

He takes a long swig of his drink, then places it on the counter top and gives me a quizzical stare. “Are you okay?”

I shrug, trying hard to tamper down this mortification that’s washing over me in waves. “You’ve not said anything Jimi,” I say.

His eyes burn into mine. “Tara, cut me some slack. You’ve stomped me with a request that’s a little disturbing…something out of character for you. A man needs a drink.”

Disturbing? What’s all this self-righteous talk? “But you were so willing to say yes yesterday,” I say bravely. “You didn’t need a drink then.”

“Tara, yesterday…I was speaking without thinking, something I rarely do. You were upset and defensive. I don’t know, I lost it. ” He stops and grimaces. “When I said sex mechanics yesterday, you do know I wasn’t asking you to sleep with me, right?”

I nod. “I do.” In hindsight, I realize it was one of those awkward situations I get myself into where the conversation  spirals out of control.

“Look, I don’t know how long you’ve had sex but the way you wrote about sex in Tomorrow and Lagos Blues, it’s just … implausible. For two people who supposedly love each other, there was no tenderness there.”

We’ve been here already.  He has made me listen to the comments of other readers. Why are we rehashing how bad of a writer I am when it comes to love scenes?

“So when I said sex mechanics,” he continues, “I meant…” he rubs his hand on his head, struggling to find his words.  “Crap,” he spits out. “I don’t know what I meant. Tara look, you are the writer. Do what you need to do to get your material. Just make sure it’s good material.”

I frown, shaking my head. “But Jimi, I’m doing what I need to do to get good material.”

He gives me a blank stare like he has no clue about what I’m saying.

“I’ve never really been in love before.” Well, until now. “I’ve also never had sex before and I’m asking for your help, and you haven’t given me a reply.”

“What?” He whispers. I think he’s about to implode. “What do you mean you’ve never had sex before?”

I ignore his shocked expression and trudge on. I am a desperate woman on a desperate mission and I’ve got to air my piece, now that I still have the courage to say it.

“Look Jimi, all I know is that yesterday you were so willing. Today, you’re…..I feel like you’re trying to let me down nicely.  I’m no charity case. If you don’t want me, tell me and I’ll go ask someone else to do me the favor.”

I sense his menace before he voices it. “Over my dead body,” he says, and before I can take my next breath, he pounces on me.

… Read the rest when you buy the book.

 About The Author, Lara Daniels:

Lara Daniels is a Registered Nurse by day and an avid romance author at nights. Born and raised in Nigeria, Lara penned her first fiction at the age of nine. She continued her love for writing all through Secondary school, then to college, from where she relocated to the United States. In July 2009, she published her first novel, and in 2010, she published the sequel, Love at Dawn – which charted on iTunes UK top 100 Romance novels. Her short story, ‘For Wale Taylor my first love’ first published on Femme Lounge, also charted among top 100 Amazon short stories/anthologies bestsellers. When she is not writing, Lara enjoys spending quality time with her family – a husband and three children. She currently makes her home in Texas. For more about Lara Daniels, catch up with her on her blog at www.laradanielswrites.com or on twitter @LDparables

Check out her websites www.laradanielswrites.com and www.laradaniels.org. Also, connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

DISCLAIMER: I have not read this book, so this isn’t a book review.

P.S. If you have read it, please share your thoughts.

The post Book Feature: Lessons In Love By Lara Daniels appeared first on Verastic.

I’ll be travelling with Igwe and Funmie. Our flight is later this evening, and I’m grateful for the evening flight. My last few flights have been early in the morning, and for someone who is NOT a morning person, that’s really asking a lot from me. It puts me under all kinds of duress. I’m happy that I won’t be travelling alone this time cause then we can play in the airport – whatever that means. If not for anything, we can take pictures of ourselves.

Since I came back from Tampa last week, I have been playing catch up on everything. This happens every time I travel.  I am sorry for all the e-mails I have not responded to yet. I promise I’ll get to them. In addition to having just come back from Tampa, Igwe also just came back from Nigeria (I’ll blog about that later), so we’ve got luggage all over the darn place. I didn’t bother completely unpacking my luggage from Tampa because I knew I’d be travelling again soon, and Igwe hasn’t unpacked his either. I’ve knocked my toes more times than I can count on the luggage, and each time I scream, “Damn it!” and then, I promise to move them, but err … yeah, still there.

Anyway, these are some of the things I’m travelling with. Uju said we’ll go to the beach. I’m excited about that, but I’m also dreading the heat. I have my sunscreen and sunglasses, so Jesus take the wheel. Uju said we’ll also be going clubbing. I don’t know yet if I will make it there since I’m not much of a clubber, but I’ll see how that goes.

Adios!! I’ll be sharing pictures via Instagram.

P.S. I apologize for the excess light in my picture. I’m too much in a hurry to fix it.

P.P.S. No bra pictures this time. Can’t promise next time though.

P.P.P.S. You know what I realized today? I need new clothes!

The post Vera Goes To Miami, Florida appeared first on Verastic.

I started using Lancomé back in 2008 after I attended a free Lancomé thingy where they made my face up and made me look all pretty. It was after using that foundation that I realized just how heavy my Mary Kay foundation was. The Lancomé lady told me that my skin was nice, and that I did not need a lot of coverage. She suggested that I only used a squirt of the Lancomé foundation, that’s all. And I have been following this rule since 2008.

But back in February of this year, I went to buy my foundation and realized that Lancomé had discontinued my line and come up with a new one. I seized the opportunity to shop around. I went to MAC, Cliniqué, Estée Lauder, and Lancomé (to get their new line) for a sample of their foundation.

Estée Lauder, Mac, Cliniqué, and Lancomé

1.  Estée Lauder: Double Wear Stay-In-Place Makeup ($36)

2.  MAC: Pro longwear foundation ($31)

3.  MAC: Matchmaster SPF foundation ($33)

4.  Cliniqué: Perfectly Real Makeup ($25)

5.  Lancomé: Teint Miracle ($40)

So here are the things I learned about picking the perfect foundation:

1.  Determine your skin type: dry, oily, or combination (I’m combination), as this would help you not bother trying certain types of foundation. Example, if you have dry skin, then you want something that is hydrating or moisturizing.

2.  Ask not what your foundation can do for you; ask instead what you need your foundation to do for you: If you already know what you need your foundation to do, this will narrow your search again. Example, do you need it to cover up acne? You need something with SPF? Do you want it lightweight? All day wear? Illuminating? Most times, you cannot get this all in one foundation.

3.  Have an open mind: Don’t stick only to brands that are marketed for Black people. Or don’t stick only to a certain type of foundation, like liquid or cream to powder. Be open to new ones.

4.  Shop around: Go to department stores where there are beauty experts (like the ones listed above), and ask them to match you AND give you a sample. The experts behind these counters are trained to help you pick the best foundation for you, based on skin tone, skin types, and coverage needed.

5.  Experts actually make mistakes: The lady at Estée Lauder (who was Black by the way) completely missed my shade. The shade she gave me made my face look like I just had a mud bath. Okay, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. But honestly, she completely missed my shade. What she gave me (pictured above) is like five shades darker than I need it.

6.   Don’t test foundation on your hand: Most Black people are different shades all over their body. Your hand is not where you wear your foundation, so why would you test it on your hand? Test it on your jaw line instead, between your face and your neck. Make sure it matches both your face and your neck.

7.  Do NOT test for your shade online: This is worse than testing it on your hand. Testing for your shade online is as crazy as becoming a surgeon online. Okay, maybe not as bad … but still pretty bad.

8.  Don’t buy the drug store brand at first: Not everyone would agree with this, but I think that at first, you shouldn’t use the drug store brand. This is because you cannot test it the way you test the department store brand (like MAC). Plus, there is no one to ask for guidance when you’re buying the drug store brand.

If you’re wondering about the conclusion of my research, I am sticking to Lancomé. It really is the best one for my skin. Both of the MACs were too heavy for me. They were my color, but no matter how little I used, it still felt like a lot.  The Cliniqué wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t perfect. The Estée Lauder was completely not my shade, but even if it was, it had a matte finish that was just too much. The Lancomé goes on really easily, like colored lotion.

The Lancomé foundation is meant to last for about three months, but because I use so little and not very often, it lasts for about nine months for me, so although it’s the most expensive foundation compared to the rest I sampled, it has the most value for me.

Happy foundation-shopping. May you shade find you.

P.S. MAC, Clinique, and Estee Lauder are all the same company. MAC was made for makeup; Clinique was made for skincare, and Estee Lauder was made for perfume, but somehow, they all ended up with makeup. If you had to pick one out of these three for makeup, I’d start with MAC.

The post How To Pick The Perfect Foundation appeared first on Verastic.

I finally got to Tampa on a different flight and was so excited to meet my people. Chisom and his wife, Chinwe; Nneoma, Chisom’s sister; Chinedu and Nonso, Arinze’s brothers (and it had been at least 13 years since I last saw Chinedu), relatives living here in America and ones that came from Nigeria and other places, and so many people. Arinze’s wedding was a mini family reunion.

There are so many pictures that I want to share, so I won’t bother you with all the details. I just want to say that I learned a lesson on Friday after drinking a big glass of Pink Moscato on an empty stomach. Never again. Enjoy the pictures.

Kissy, kissy (this wasn’t the first kiss)

L-R: Chioma’s Dad, Arinze’s Mom, Chioma, Arinze, Chioma’s Mom, and Arinze’s Dad

The couple with Arinze’s nuclear family: Nonso (2nd son), Arinze’s Mom, Chioma, Arinze (first son), and Chinedu (Baby of the home)

Chinwe & Chisom. Remember them?

Me, Arinze, and Nneoma. Literally the ONLY picture I took with Arinze (apart from the group ones)

During cocktail hour, all of us in this picture hurdled around one little seat. Women in high heels are not meant to stand for long. Every single person in this picture is from Adazi Nnukwu, my hometown. We did not plan for this picture to turn out looking like this, but it did. So guess what we called this picture? Check out the caption.

The Real Housewives (And Husbands) Of Adazi Nnukwu – Season One

Chinwe is just one crazy girl. The way she’s looking away in this picture, one would think I took her by surprise. But this was actually her pose. Guess we can call it the, “She caught me by surprise” look.

Nneoma + Chinwe

This is Cynthia, one of the stars on The Real Housewives of Adazi Nnukwu. The other three ladies in the picture (Nneoma not included) are her sisters, and she’s the baby of the house. How do I put this simply? Cynthia is a clown. I don’t think I have ever met anyone so bubbly and happy. You can’t really stay next to her and not smile. God bless her heart. She entertained us with all kinds of moves, including singing into a table knife.

Cynthia, the very happy girl

That Vera girl …

The first dance

When it was time for Arinze to find the garter, home boy just charged. First of all, R. Kelly’s Bump & Grind came booming through the speakers which excited people. Then Arinze off’d his suit jacket, and we all oooh’d. Then he started doing this slow motion moves. The combination of the song and Arinze’s moves (and the way he was taking his time crawling up Chioma’s dress), I fear oh! I thought we were about to witness the conception of Arinze Junior, but alas …

Then Umu Boys lifted Arinze up

Someone must have told that little boy that wife no dey for market again, so he started early to do his wife search. Go boy!

Then the DJ started playing Gyrate by Tony One Week, and the next few pictures pretty much sum up that moment.

Umu Boys lifted Arinze up

Moves ….

Safe to say that Arinze was feeling the music

Our family is planning a meeting with Arinze to discuss whatever he was doing here

The wet guy behind is Arinze isn’t wet from the rain. That’s all sweat. Too much dancing!!

Chisom, Me, and Chinwe

Slash Wisdom and I. I showed him a new kind of pepper that he won’t forget in a hurry.

The day after the wedding, we were on Cake Duty. Our job was to transport this cake from the table to the fridge — without breaking it into pieces. Since Nonso has a PhD in Economics, it only made sense for him to economize space in the fridge and also economize cake disaster. But just to be safe, I took his picture, so in case he dropped it, there’d be proof of who had the cake.

The move. Check out Chinedu’s face behind. He looked quite unsure and afraid.

Success! You’re a brave man, Nonso.

Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes this post. It only took me several hours to pick these pictures from the several hundreds I took. It was a lovely wedding. My only regret is that it’s over.

P.S. Ms. Dawari asked about my duties at this wedding. Well, I didn’t have as much as Chisom’s wedding. But on Friday evening, I was the official Hold-The-Venue-Open Director. We had a sort of get together at the apartment community center, but someone had to be there to keep the place open, so that was my job. People came almost four hours late. Yay me.

P.P.S. I forgot to take a full length picture of myself. I barely even have half-length pictures of myself. I was too busy taking pictures of everyone else.

The post My Weekend Recount: Arinze’s Wedding Was Craaazzzzzyyyyy! appeared first on Verastic.

This is the first time I’m putting up a whole post dedicated to Game Of Thrones, and it’s for good reason. I started watching this show two years ago when I was bored and decided to see what series HBO had. I watched the first episode of Season 1 and I had to watch the next. That was how I got hooked. In Season 1, one of the main characters, Ned Stark got beheaded. I did not see that coming, and frankly, I am not over it yet.

Fast forward to Season 3, I was about three episodes behind, but I didn’t mind because I knew it’d be OnDemand, and I could watch all three in one day. But the day after Episode 9 aired, I saw instagrams and tweets about the falling apart of the Starks. What?!?! So I was so afraid of watching it. I was curious and anxious, but I approached the episode with much trepidation, a fast-beating heart, and very shaky hands.

Once upon a time, Robb Stark sought help from Walder Frey. Walder Frey was willing to give the help on the condition that Robb Stark (who is King of The North) marries one of his many daughters. Robb agreed. However, he fell in love with Talisa, a native of Volantis. Then he married her. His mother, Catelyn Stark was against the union because “Walder Frey is a dangerous man to cross,” but what can you tell a man in love?

He still needed Walder Frey’s help. Long story short, he apologized to Walder Frey, and a wedding was agreed upon where Robb’s uncle instead would marry one of Walder Frey’s daughters. Everything was going well until it was time for the bedding ceremony (meaning the husband took his wife into the room to know her), and the band started playing The Rains Of Castamere. Everyone except Catelyn Stark was too drunk, too happy, and too relaxed to realize what song was playing.

The moment when Lord Bolton stabbed Robb Stark

In what seemed like a split second, someone stabbed Talisa Stark in her pregnant belly. Then arrows rained down on Robb and his mother. Lord Bolton stabbed Robb, right before he said, “The Lanisters send their regards.” Then Catelyn’s throat was slit. And then, cast and credits.

Oh. My. God.

I stared at the blank screen for a while waiting. Waiting. Waiting.  Then I started thinking about what would happen next to undo what just happened. Like maybe that red-haired witch, Melisandre would somehow consult her god, the Lord of Light or whatever she calls him to undo these deaths. Or this could go the Nollywood way where this was all just a dream. Oh, the terror!!

And all this time, little Arya is outside. She was this close to her family, and it all got taken away from her hit list is getting longer. I assume that her There was so much more that happened in this episode, but the death of Catelyn and Robb is by far the most memorable – and not in a good way. I cried my eyes out after watching this episode, then I spent two nights – no lie – dreaming about it.

Tomorrow is the season finale, and I want to ask, what else could top this, but I know better than to ask that, especially when it comes to Game Of Thrones. This show isn’t like any other. In Scandal, for example, I am confident that Olivia Pope will never die. How can she die? She’s the main character. Game Of Thrones isn’t that way. It could be anyone’s dying day.

Picture source: Forbes

The post Game Of Thrones: The Rains Of Castamere appeared first on Verastic.

Woman who looks good in a sleeping cap AND isn’t an accurate representative of the women I see outside in sleeping caps

I don’t know if this is a new trend or if I just started noticing it, but all I know is that everywhere I go, there are women – Black women – walking around with sleeping caps on their heads. These women can be found at Walmart, at the gas station, at the pharmacy, driving on the road, at the mall, and every damn where in between. What is going on???

You see, the thing about the sleeping cap is that it is actually meant for sleeping. What that means is that you put it on your head when you are about to sleep, and then, when you wake up, you take it off. You may wear it around the house, or leave it on your head when you walk outside to throw the trash in the dumpster, but please, let it not pass that dumpster. It’s like every single time I go to the store, I spot at least three women proudly walking around with colorful sleeping caps. And just to be clear, it doesn’t matter how colorful it is, it’s still a sleeping cap.

The picture above is nothing compared to the women I have been seeing outside with their sleeping caps. In this picture, the woman is very made up (not how any of us look when we’re going to bed or when we have just woken up), so this picture was clearly taken for marketing purposes. The women I see, however, have no make up on, and for the most part, are not dressed in any particularly nice way … which makes sense anyway. Who would dress up nicely and crown it with a sleeping cap?

I know and understand that sometimes, the time just isn’t there to style your hair and all that stuff. Or maybe you have rollers in your head that you’re not quite ready to take off. Or maybe your hair is still wrapped. It’s all good. There are scarves for that. And no, I am not talking about the satin scarves that are also meant for sleeping. I’m talking about regular good ol’ scarves.

So you’re thinking, what if I don’t want the regular scarf to touch my hair so it doesn’t break my hair? Well, first of all, don’t be dramatic. Using a regular scarf one day of your life for a few minutes or hours will not finish the hair on your head. But just in case you only have three strands of hair and you really, really want to preserve them, then you can leave the sleeping cap on your head and still cover it up with a regular scarf.

If it seems like I am overly touchy about this sleeping cap issue, it’s because I am. I just don’t understand why women do this. I used to think it was a Nigerian thing because every time I saw a woman outside with a sleeping cap on her head, she was Nigerian. But then, the good Lord opened my eyes up to the truth. It’s Black women of all nationalities. Nigerians. Africans. Americans. Everyone.

Please, stop eeeet! It is people like you that make men say they don’t want their women wearing sleeping caps to bed. And we all know what that will do to our hair. So please, next time you consider going out with a sleeping cap on your head, think about your fellow women. What will this do to them? Also, the next time you think about going out with a sleeping cap on your head, I want you to take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself this question: do I look stupid? If the answer is anything other than a resounding YES, please wash your eyes with hot water and cold soap. And then, repeat until you get a resounding yes and consequently not go out with a sleeping cap on your head.

Yours In Service,

Vera Ezimora for World Peace

P.S. This post also applies to those of you that have been going out with your pajamas and bedroom slippers. Stop eeeet!

The post Ladies, Let’s Talk About Going Out With Your Sleeping Cap appeared first on Verastic.

So .. here’s the the post:

Attention Beautiful African Goddess, please don’t accept anything but the most gracious and chivalrous treatment. Even as a boor myself, I know very well that Women such as yourself are among the most beautiful, sensuous, and coy on this Mother Earth. Blessed is the man that should experience the joy and privilege of being in the mere presence of you, let alone that he should experience the treasure of being your loving companion.

Indeed, how serendipitous that a chivalrous Knightly African Warrior such as myself should come across a Queen in this corner of cyberspace. I would honor you. I would bow to you. I would give you the passionate Goddess worship you so deserve. Let us meet and let God bequeath us the passion and pleasures of Kings and Queens. Let drink deep draughts of infernal pleasure as we make love to Songs of Songs amidst frankincense and myrrh. Let us experience passion as it was once known…as it was meant to be.

Come my African Queen…come and experience a taste of paradise. Give yourself what you deserve. I am awaiting. Come taste what the boorish male can bestow. Come experience an Imperial tradition that bows to Isis Goddesses.

THE END

P.S. I know you must be waiting for gist about Arinze’s wedding, and I will put it up soon … with pictures of course.

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