It is another #ManCrush Monday and none of these guys is even seeing me. I am a ManCrush, they don’t know it is why they don’t like me. Thank Goodness those haters are in the minority; it would have been one hell of a task trying to kill all of them- with kindness. I hardly have enough kindness for my many lovers and none to spare for haters.
Why those little minds beef me, I can’t pretend I don’t know- I got abundance of what they lack. I have ten times more friends than the besotted fools, a hundred times more books and CD’s than those clueless dummies, and a million times more brain cells than they do- bloody cretins- even though they have all the Money-in-The-Bank I could use- put together.
I don’t have the easy grace of Tuface Idibia, or the Six-pack of Flavour, nor the biceps of Iyanyan, or the Lady-Killer face of D’Banj, neither do I possess the butter-and -honey voice of Cobhams Asuquo. I myself envy those who do and I, and I will not be slack in declaring such impressive personality my #ManCrush. But what is stopping these haters from declaring me their ManCrush-. it must be a demon to be cast out in Jesus’ name. They copy my style and carry-body like say dem be me but will not come out of their diabolic closet.
They don’t even pretend to like me a bit when they come bothering me with one request or another supplication for kindness. It is either to borrow things- which I never get back, or to steal my peace of mind, to kill my time, and destroy my patience.
Maybe I should start charging them for picking my brains all the time. They invaded my privacy and murdered my sleep. It is either they want me to help them sort their mobile phones, or they want my assistance with drafting an Application For Promotion, or help fill the form to apply for shore leave- yet they hate me for the ease with which I oblige them.
They want the things I have like a Nigerian lady covets Brazilian and Indian hairs, but pride and prejudice will not let them crush on me openly. shame on them all.