Hello people,

How's it going?

Today's going pretty well for me. I've laughed a lot. It's always good to laugh. Now, I've got to say something profoundly profound about laughter. It's a trick we bloggers/writers use all the time. If I were to start talking about beauty, I'd probably start of like this. I've heard it said that the 21st century has imposed a standard of beauty that is all but impossible, but I don't believe this. There's more to beauty than white teeth, sharp cheek bones, and symmetrical features. There is beauty in the sky, and the moon, and most smiles. The thing that makes a smile beautiful isn't the pearly teeth but the glimmer of genuine emotion that flashes across a face as its lips part. There is beauty in the neediness of Sam Smith, there is beauty in the smirk of Karlie Kloss and there is beauty in the common tragedy that life is. But, all of these things are things I find beautiful. Beauty is personal. Your eyes are yours and yours alone. Laughter is delightful because of the complete detachment that comes with it. When you laugh your head is clear. Laughter suspends reality for a heartbeat, and sometimes that's all you need.
I think a change of tone is necessary now. You may not know this about me, but I wear glasses. Sometimes, I love the fact that I'm bespectacled, and sometimes, I'm a little insecure about it. When I met G, University Crush number 3, I had my contacts in. It looked like things were going well, but we'd only just met so I was a little worried. When we went out on our first date I didn't want her to suddenly meet the bespectacled me and think, "I must have been drunker than I thought." Obviously, I'm not as insecure as I was then, life is far too short for that.

me

Getting a new pair of glasses can be a beastly experience. They're just so expensive! You can't scrimp on glasses because you wear them everyday. And even if you aren't fussed about how your frames frame your face, depending on your prescription, your lenses could be twice, or thrice as much as the frames themselves, so when I heard about Warby Parker I was very pleased indeed.

Warby Parker is a company that provides frames and lenses that don't leave your wallet skinny. In their words,

Meet the Julias

Meet the Claras

Yes! These three. They're me, and I'm sure that if you go through their website, you'll find you too.
 Happy Days,
Afam

ps. The frames, I'm wearing in the photo aren't Warby Parker frames. #justsaying

ps. Haskell call me.

psss. Haskell I love you

pssssss. Haskell I want to have your babies.

psssssss. Sorry to get your hopes up Haskell, I can't have babies. I have a penis.

Okay, so it's official, I'm not the same as I was. It feels like I say this a lot. Maybe I say it too much, but no matter. As they say, the price of the fish in the market remains unchanged, and more appropriately, the money in my bank account has neither apprexcated nor depprexcated, so let's get on with it.

When I wrote this one, I was writing some copy for a client. It was a little bit weird that I was writing two completely different things simultaneously. Who said men can't multi-task eh? Anyway, I was disturbed by the shocking number of "take care of your man" articles out there. I cannot fathom why a man is essential. Sometimes we make deals that are senseless. Yes, you have a husband but now you're depressed. Yes, everyone thinks you've got everything but you know you've got nothing. And then you'll die. That'll be it. There has to be more to life than walking on eggshells for the sake of someone else. So, I took all the advice I'd heard over the years, and I wrote it down. I stripped it down and presented it as I saw it. That's what I generally try to do on the blog. The result was caustic sarcasm that covered its ass. As a writer, you must cover your ass. It's particularly essential when you're dealing with controversial issues, that apply to so many people. 

Mama Afam didn't like it. She thought it was too real. She said she knows too many people who lived like that to find it funny, no matter how ridiculous the writing got. I didn't want to stick the disclaimer on the end of it, at first. I thought my feminist credentials would show everyone that it was satirical, but my editors advised me to cover my ass, and so I did. 

This one was very well received by the Bellanaijarians who read it all the way through. I did however enjoy some of the comments from the people that didn't.

Luis Garavito: Admitted to the rape and murder of 147 young boys. Pedro Lopez: Accused of raping and killing over 300 girls across South America.

I quite liked this one. It made me laugh. Dog god alien fucker... it's very very very catchy.

Happy Days,
Afam

Friends, frenemies, enemies, frefoes, foes, comrades and famzers, we have come so monumentally far in such an unbelievably short period of time. You will no doubt be infinitely surprised that my ramblings have to date earned me thirty-two pounds and 43 pence. I'm sure that some of you will read this figure and giggle for it is so tiny that it is hardly worth boasting about. In fact you could go as far as to infer that he would boast of earning a mere £32 from 8 months of work must be mad. You would be right. I am mad.

Happy New Year. Yes, I am aware that it is now the 24th of January and as such 23 days late but you'll have to forgive me. After all I am Afam, Afam the Magnificent, the Clever, the Bold, the godly, the demi-god (Get creative with it. Any positive adjective will do. I'll even accept Afam the Ridiculous, because those who permit themselves to ridiculed in public do the world a service. They serve as the punching bags of the world.)

I'll be perfectly honest with you. I was delighted to see the back of 2012. My 2012 was just like the movie 2012. In 2012 I ran a little bit mad. I kid you not, I have a therapist, a killer prescription and everything. However I'm the sort of chap who'll look at the pieces of his life falling apart and say, "What a magnificent disaster! Do the pieces not fall beautifully?" there is beauty and delight to be had in everything. You need only aspire to see it.

I welcomed the new year as I've welcomed most other new years; deep in prayer at Church. It's a little bit of a Nigerian tradition. The last time I asked Papa Afam if I could party in the New Year, I was fixed with a look of such disdain and disbelief that I was rendered incapable of looking him in the eye for no fewer than three days. You mustn't think that I'm such a goody goody. I've had my crazy days.

What the future has in store for us I cannot tell. I can only hope that it's a better one than we can imagine. That even as the threads of our lives fray and come undone; even when all the shit in the world hits the proverbial fan, we'll find a large enough umbrella to shield us from the chaos.

Happy Present and Future Days,
Afam