The Women in my Life

As it so turns out, the last three women in my life in any meaningful way have
been Nigerians. All Bush girls. The first, she contacted me by email about my
writing. Soon we were dialoging... but she kept pushing... for me to call. So
I called. She was rather... Nigerian. If you don't understand, then you just don't get it. She complained about people and things and glorified her meager beauty... as you'd expect a bush Naija chick. Eventually I got tired of her pettiness and did the "flip." What happens is that I don't speak to the negative, so when anyone makes it into my camp, even if I let them in, I can flip. Like Mr. Official whose close friends were chastising him for stealing a book from Barnes and Nobles. I let him into the camp just to test him. Merely two days before he was to cash his gold--my talent--I performed the flip on him. He is today a scared man. The second girl
was a family friend. Even busher. Kept pushing me to come visit her... to come with her here... to come with her there... selfish, never listening to what I'm saying... then it came to light that she might also be minions of our dear friend swinket... so I performed the flip... don't really give a shit about what she thinks... she is bush. The third gurl... well she just lacked depth. Couldn't sustain a dialog, as could neither any of these others, for any meaningful amount of time... because she ... and they have spent little time thinking about these things.
But let it not seem as though all women in my life are retards. The women whom
I dare not speak to on such matters as romonse, they are PhDs and wonderful afrocentric sisters in "the movement." These are the ones who will hook me up with a friend in the movement when I'm ready. Till then I wonder why I continue to taste of the bitter syrup of mediocrity that Nigeria parades as its glorious women.