I’ve made it a priority to walk through the face of any person, be it a man or woman who tells me the ‘Dumsor’ is not that bad or the President should not be pressured to find a fix now—and by this, I mean to slap the hell out that son of a b*tch until all his or her teeth drop to the floor.
My cousin was recently rushed to the hospital for a near-death stomach pains and it’s all because that NDC woman who sells Banku and Tilapia near our junction sold her a fresh looking Tilapia which in fact had suffered Dumsor for God knows how long in her fridge.
This is why I begin to look for a hammer to break a skull anytime I hear people make ‘Dumsor’ a political propaganda because this nonsense is affecting everyone including my dog which barks incessantly for about 15 minutes anytime the lights are taken off in the evening.
We’ve bought two fridges so far in the last 1 year because of the power outages and only half of the fridge wall is working for the one sitting near me now. Have you ever seen a fridge with one part cooling and the other as hot as walking through Makola on a Friday afternoon pressed by the need to use the toilet? Check into my house if you have time…
Enough of the above because most Ghanaians may be facing that and I am not here to become the mouthpiece for every Ghanaian…F**k that, I wouldn’t be paid for such a job so let me just deal with my huge problem of being orga$m starved for almost 3 months because of President Mahama and his Dumsor cousin.
The Ghanaian men I’ve been meeting are pretty stingy and most of them don’t fit my kind of man. Even when I was ready to pass some of them for the mere fact that I can use and abuse them anytime I need to satisfy my sexual desire, the two that I considered this way failed me brutally.
I now understand why there is an increase in the sales of tonics and bitters all over Ghana. Our men have become 3 seconds sluggish worms. For the last candidate, he didn’t’ even show up for the match after I whetted my pu**y appetite from morning, waiting for that grand volcanoes to explode in his face.
The non-performance of these men and the fact that I couldn’t put myself through the constant emotional torture of whether it was going to be great or another flop meant that I had to seek for other avenues to satisfy the goddess in me—I am sure my goddess was a wh*re on planet Venus, else what would explain this extreme high libido of mine which makes some women even jealous?
Personally, I find women who are able to count the number of orga$ms they’ve had losers—perhaps that explains why most of my sisters are really mean on the ‘trotro’ these days. I jumped into trotro with smiles every morning, because I know how loud I screamed before wearing my panties for work. It takes a little time but eventually I make it there almost every morning with those toys my friend-Jessica introduced me to when I could not anymore rely on the pool of men. I go to heaven and come back at least twice. But that was then…