For those of you who do not speak Yoruba, a fairly popular language in West Africa, the above phrase means "what is sparkling?" On second thought kilon sparkles doesn't make for a very nice introduction for if anyone asked me what it was that was sparkling 4 years ago, my answer would have been my underwear. You see, 2008 was a very difficult time for me. While my mates were getting tongue piercings and tattoos behind their ears I felt that the best form of rebellion was that which occurred behind zips and trousers. If it was not more luminescent than a mirror ball then it was quite unworthy of housing the Afam jewels for the day. For how would the jewels know how important they were to me if they were not wrapped in materials vaguely reminiscent of the golden lamé shorts made popular by Rocky in the Rocky Horror Picture Show?
It should come as no surprise to you that the actual content of the post has little or nothing to do with the sparkly nature of my underwear. The truth is that I, Afam have just had a little bit of an epiphany. By now you must all know that I, am not and have never been a great dancer. I find it immensely difficult to maintain any sort of control over the greater part of my body parts simultaneously. If by some miracle I manage to perform some skillfull moves with my legs then it is incredibly likely that my head will vibrate like I was in the throes of an epileptic fit. It is because of this intrinsic deficiency that I have enrolled in a number of dance classes. Why is it so serious you ask? Well, I, Afam will tell you. As I have not yet mastered the mysterious art of maintaining the greater part of my hearing in clubs, I am altogether incapable of chatting anyone up, for a conversation littered with "pardons, sorries and could you please repeat thats" is never a great help in stimulating the nethers of anything. Not even a goat will be stirred by those offerings. I have no other choice but to expresss my need for coupledom with my mating dance.
The dance classes have been incredibly beneficial because they have made me at least 2 parts more flexible than I was in the past. I am now so flexible that I am quite capable of doing an imperfect split when very very drunk. It isn't worth the pain to attempt it sober. I would wager that it isn't worth the pain attempting it drunk but drunken Afam has always been a little bit of an over achiever. After a heavy night out I can be seen limping through the streets of Manchester. Is it not tragic?
Even though the dance classes have been rather successful, their success pales in comparison to that of my bi weekly swimming sessions. I was simply delighted to discover that swimming is a great way to improve your back flexibility and your winding and grinding skills. Now, in swimming there is this thing called the butterfly kick. It is the most common stroke in swimming because you do it after you dive for the front crawl, breast stroke, butterfly and you do it upside down when you do the back stroke. If you were to perform this move on land your body rolls up and down like some sexy, sexual predator siren of a mermaid. This is exactly the sort of thing you need on the dance-floor. It says, "a little less conversation, a little more action please." Granted, you might end up with a nymphomaniac but this is always and everywhere a good thing.
Happy Days,
Afam
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