A JOKER IN THE PACK
Today I have the luxury of time to play with my hands like guitar strings. I posted a video of a lady swaging with her big size and big Abs. That suitably describes me.
Some years ago, my homeboy and I walked into a supermart. I picked a fat burner tea pack that he gladly paid for. He must been so thrilled that I have finally decided to check my weight and Abs. Typical of me, I completely forgot about. One day, the devil jogged my memory me at the pack.
I took a leaf bag, put in the hot water, and gulped it. I took the tea; it was bland! I hissed. What can this blast with this bland taste, flinging the pack on my friend’s bedside drawer. But the vulture is a patient bird.
I went about my business, but the next day, 24 hours after consumption, I felt a violent kick in my innards. It progressed like a rumbling volcano. Panic sets in as my innards were churning like dirty clothes in a fast swishing washing machine.
Day 3, panic gripped my friends. My innards were oscillating between combating crocs in a muddy river and sparring with angry elephants on rampage.
Day 4, it was a hurly-burly between luxury of peace in a space of two hours, before I was back at the boxing ring with Crocs and Elephants at the same time.
Finally, by the 5th day, my bowels released its glop after seeing black and dismal stars. Nobody touched the execrable tea pack afterwards. I also learned to love myself. Nobody can body shame me for body defects. You may have the perfect body; loving myself would never care. The premium I place on my “Miss Ugly’ is high biko. I do not have the superb body of Beyoncé yet my caravan moves on. I love my biggie and I intend to live healthy and long with it. Except for health reasons, please learn to love yourself.
I CANT COME AND GO AND DIE FOR ANYTHING.
Well now my pretty, this is what I call a joker in the pack.