I am in a drought of gist right now. I know, I know, I’ve been MIA for a minute and a half but (wo)man had to take care of some pressing issues. As much as I enjoy blogging, I am not about to make my living from it, so you must bear with me. However, being the considerate blogger that I am, I decided to search my inbox for some of Yesi’s short stories that I will share – without his permission (I hope I don’t get shit-listed for this sha). No, these aren’t romance (we don’t do romance at edede; romance is boring). These are life and times stories. Enjoy!
Manclopedia – Vol 1
*Conversation with my Uncle*
I watched him take a swig of the beer with his eyes closed. His Adams-apple yo-yoed as he swallowed.
With a smile perched at the corner of his lips, he opened his eyes to catch my gaze.
“Son,” he started, “The only thing better than a cold bottle of beer…” his voice trailed off, as if he fell
into deep thought.
He continued with more conviction,” The only thing better is another cold bottle of beer!!!”
He was pleased with his profound statement and his face wore a contagious smirk etched also in my face.
“Now go get me another one!”
Manclopedia – Vol 2
The tension in the air was palpable. I stared my opponent down with fiery eyes, but my countenance was matched by his determination. In this, the most noble of sports, a loss at this monumental occasion was unacceptable. For grabs were dining-table bragging rights. Yes, my younger five-year old brother he was, but in that instant, all I saw was the enemy.
“Victory shall be mine!!”
The rules were simple.
– Contestants stand equidistant from the wall.
– Feet can neither move, nor leave the ground.
– The contestant who pees highest on the wall wins.
The enemy assumed the position. His demeanor exuded confidence… and for good reason. He had refused to pee since lunch-time, and had consumed an obscene amount of water and Ribena. He had spent the better part of the day doing the cross-legged -chicken-dance to prevent a bladder explosion as we watched cartoons on TV.
He looked at me one last time, dropped his shorts and let rip.
His trajectory was unbelievable. He almost hit the top of the wall on his first trickle. I watched, mouth agape, as he inched closer and closer to the top. Just when I thought he was done, he thrust his hips forward to deliver one final spout that scaled the wall. He had not only beaten my personal best, he had shattered it. I looked at him with new found respect.
I set my feet, took a deep breath and peed for all I was worth. A pathetic start; I hit just a little above the middle of the wall. My brother giggled at my dismal showing.
No I won’t go out like this
I pushed as hard as I could. Closer, closer… but I needed a little more umph! I bent my knees, thrust my hips forward, pushed my torso back, and continued to urinate in a ridiculous Matrix-esque pose. Closer, closer… but my body was running out of fluids.
Can’t lose, must win!!!
I thrust further, further until… WHAMMM!!! I opened my eyes to find myself flat on my back… salty liquid all over my face. My brother erupted into laughter as he ran back towards the house. Dinner was already served.