Facebook: My Life Just Got Fabulous ….Again!!

Yippee!!! Just heard Facebook will be introducing the dislike button. Mark Zuckerberg, the founder of Facebook said yesterday during a Q & A “What people want is to be able to express empathy”.  He said some users (me) have been asking for the icon since 2009 and that the icon will be available to test very soon

He also said he did not want it to be a mechanism with which people could “down vote” others’ posts.


While I completely agree with him on the use of the button on the empathy front , however I can’t help but think that young Mr. Zuckerberg, by his comment on the “down post” is just trying to absolve himself of any wanton misuse of the icon in the future. And he knows it will happen.

To borrow a much used analogy, providing the dislike button on Facebook and asking users not to “down post” with it, is like taking a child to M&M world in central London and telling them they can’t have any sweets? That’s just cruel.Read More »


Conversation With The Barber II

The last time I mentioned my barber was in January, it is now August. That doesn’t mean that I have been running around looking like I am auditioning for a part in a Blaxploitation movie. Quite the opposite. I have been to see him and been having my hair cut, just that we haven’t had any gay related conversations, until yesterday when I paid him a visit him.


The following ensued and like the last time, which you can catch up on here the conversation was in Igbo.

Me: How now? How is the family? (He is married with two daughters)

Emenike (Em): I am fine my brother. We thank God. How is work?

Me: Its going well, thank you. I have a big presentation on Monday; please give me a nice haircut – I need to show them that I haven’t come to sell groundnuts.

Em: Don’t worry I will take care of you, he laughed

He prepared me for the haircut and as he draped the barber’s cloth over me, he stopped mid-flight as a rather voluptuous lady walked by the shop window and attracted his attention. The other barbers and customers in the shop teased him about being happily married man and shouldn’t be gawking at other women.

Me: How is that your townsman you were telling me about?Read More »

London Gay Pride 2015

London Gay Pride Parade was held yesterday and central london was splashed with rainbow colours. The theme this year is Pride Heroes and Londoners turned out in their droves, despite the heightened security alert following terrorist attack on British holidaymakers in Tunisia.

There was plenty for everyone – Human rights, Politicians, Gay marriage, Gay prosecution, Asylum, Welfare, Drag queens, S&M and plenty of eye candy.

Here are a few pictures:




I see you baby…….
Hmmmm Men In Uniform….
Queen Mary……



Twitter:Follow Back Or My Dick Falls Off

I am not sure when I will get the hang of social media, but I seem to have fallen foul again of another “rule”, this time it is not with Facebook. but with Twitter.

A few weeks ago, I got a standard Twitter notification that someone had started following my account. I looked at the new follower’s account and for no reason at all, other than he didn’t look hot on his profile picture and all his tweets consisted of copious amounts of dick & ass pics, I did not follow him back.

Twitter Follow me

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Ciao, Mr President

Heeeyyy Mr soon to be Ex-President, How you doin? *wink wink*. It’s me again.

I know you have a lot on your plate right now – deleting e-mails, shredding documents, transferring funds into private accounts, moving your belongings out of Aso rock and consoling the soon to be former First lady who I imagine is wailing uncontrollably in one corner of the residence and cursing you out (I do hope she is not taking your election defeat too hard. Tell her for me that This Too Shall Pass and she should remember diaris God O!!!!! I am sure He has already supplied all her needs “good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over”- she only has to check her USD bank balance to confirm) – so I will keep this brief.

The last time I wrote you was when you signed the Nigeria Anti gay bill into law, I ended my tirade with the following:

“Anyway, if anyone goes to jail by this draconian law and strange things start happening to you and anyone you may care about, don’t ask God or whoever you pray to, “Why me?” Just remember the minute you signed the bill. It seems Mr. President; you have scored an own goal. And frankly speaking, you have messed with the wrong set of people.” 

(Click here to recap)

I am not one to say “I told you so” and it would be hypocritical of me to show schadenfreude especially as, I told my friend off the other night for not showing decorum in his comments about the soon to be former first lady’s fallen status; but I am only human and #YOLO, so here goes – “I TOLD YOU SO!!!!”

Maybe signing that bill contributed to you losing the elections, maybe it didn’t. It could have been the missing Chibok girls? It could have been the hat you wore while casting your vote? Or it could have been the not so lucky underwear you wore on the day? Who knows? But the fact is you will lie awake at night in bed with madam former first lady cursing away at you in her sleep, wandering which one of your actions during your presidency caused your defeat. That sir, is priceless.


You are not all bad. You conceded defeat and averted potential bloodshed in the country, which is quite honourable. Though those close to you will not agree (Is she still crying?!?) but such a selfless act will go some way in redeeming your image as a caring Nigerian. You might even go on to be an elder statesman next month. Your place in history is secure.

However I think you could go a step further by mentioning in your memoirs that you regret signing the anti-gay bill into law. On second thoughts don’t bother – the memoirs won’t sell. Just post your regret on facebook and set up a manhunt account.

I will let you get on with looting clearing Aso Rock.

See you around.

A Case (And Maybe A Place) For Russell Tovey

Hey Russell,

I see you had a spot of bother last week regarding your comment about effeminate (fem) gay men. Every fem and their Chihuahua gave their 140-character text opinion on Twitter and some wrote articles vilifying and blaming you and other straight-acting (Masc) guys, for everything wrong with the entire world. You apologised and though some said it was a back handed apology, it prevented a melt down on social media.


Dude, I am a fan and I have seen you in most things you have done. I like your character in Looking, I can relate to his situation where he has to choose between his boyfriend and his office romance. I too have been in a similar situation on numerous occasion though not in the office (One shouldn’t shit where one eats). Right now I have to decide whether to bump my regular Friday night shag for the fresh meat I had a prior dalliance with. Tough, really tough.

I also saw you in Pass at the Jerwood Theatre upstairs at the London Royal Court. That was a hot play, especially the shower scene where you were butt naked. (Though not too sure about the dodgy Nigerian accent you tried to put on in one scene). For most of the play you were in tight Calvin Klein boxer shorts and I could see that the work you put in at the gym in preparation for your role paid off.


As you know the seating configuration of the theatre was such that the audience could reach out and touch the actors. You may or may not remember, but on the night before the play’s final run, during the scene were the stage lights were dimmed really low, just before you ran off exiting stage right, someone in the audience squeezed your bum and you fluffed your lines. It may or may not have been me, but all I am going to say is that you must have done some serious squats during those gym sessions.

I also saw you in San Francisco a day or so before Folsom street fair. You were walking with a lady who I now understand is your mum (lovely lady by the way). Around Mission and 17th Street you both stopped and talked to a homeless man. You reached into your pocket and gave him some money. That really moved me. ** Wipes away a tear**

Just to be clear, I am no stalker. We just happen to be at the same place at the same time…over and over again.

What you said about effeminate guys was a tad insensitive. In this blessed world of political correctness, you can think it, but you are not allowed to say it, particularly not to strangers holding a recording device. We are All God’s children (well the jury is still out on Vladimir Putin) and you can’t be implying (outwardly) that there is a more socially acceptable gay comportment than the other.

I am not going to go into the whole “internalised homophobia” accusations you got or into feeling of deep insecurity effeminate guys’ feel when they see “Masc only” on Grindr profiles and so on; for I am sure you have heard and read enough of that to last you a lifetime, so I won’t bore you. (But you can read what I think about it here between takes)

However, I would like to say in response to the comments made about your Dad, I think he is a visionary. When he saw your flair for acting he probably thought, after seeing the visible gay actors around at that time like Kenneth Williams and John Inman, why not go against the grain? Instead of his son being a gay actor, why not be an actor who also happens to be gay? That way you get to play other roles other than the stereotype gay comedy relief, that always for some reason are effeminate. So he shipped you off to a drama school where you learned and honed your acting skills. Incidentally you happened to get toughened up along the way. So fucking what?

So now you can play any male role, straight or gay, requiring an Essex accent convincingly. I have seen an episode of Banished on BBC and you play the straight guy extremely well.  Good on you and a huge thanks to your Dad.

For the haters that called you the “Worst gay ever”, just think of them as fans in denial. They will soon come round.

Anyway, the furore your comment caused on Twitter has all but died down now, just like most gay relationships in London for men aged between 18-40 these things tend to last a few days then we move on the next thing. Right now it is all about Jeremy Clarkson’s ‘fracas’.

Throwing Shade….

If however someone out there is still throwing shade at you on social media and you need a place to hide out, drop me a line. I have a place you can hide out in London. No one will know where you are. It would just be two of us doing what masculine guys – hanging out in our underpants, wrestling on the floor, watching sports on TV and drinking beer (Non alcoholic beer for me though). I could even teach you a proper Nigerian accent.

Drop me line….

How To Make New Friends On Facebook….Or Not!!

I just got slapped by Facebook…AGAIN. I seem to fall foul of their ever changing rules which I don’t take time to read and I am yet to meet anyone who does either. It all suspiciously started not long after my blog post The fabulous life on Facebook. I wrote another blogpost that appeared on my timeline on facebook with a picture of a nice juicy phallus. The custodians of morality at Facebook Support Dashboard – FBSD (The acronym makes them sound like the secret service), removed the entry from my timeline because allegedly some self-righteous Mary Whitehouse wannabe found the picture offensive and reported it.

photo 2.PNG
Is this offensive?

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Conversation with the Barber

Went to have my hair cut on New Year’s Eve by my regular barber. His name is Emenike. Good looking, average height, well-groomed beard, with a lean physique you get from hard labour – he hardly has any fat on him. Naturally, I have checked out his butt and he has absolutely nothing to be ashamed about.

Ngo Okafor

When I go to see him, I tell him what I want done and he does it. We never have any conversations. He hardly talks anyway; he just gets on with it, unlike other barbers who like to give their unsolicited opinion of everything they see on TV, Nigerian Politics and outside the shop window.

Half way through cutting my hair the following conversation ensued:

Emenike: You no travel?

This is not an unusual question to ask between Nigerians around the Christmas holidays as it is customary we travel home to celebrate with our families. It is also an opportunity to show real or often imagined affluence and showcase ourselves.  In the process  single straight Nigerians get future spouses. Being a gay man and not being out to my village, I am not prepared to spend £££ on a 2 week trip to be bombarded with questions about my marital status and be subjected to a long array of potential brides to choose from. So I use Skype to stay in touch during the festive season and feign bad connection when the question of marriage comes up.

Me: No, I didn’t. Work has been too busy.

Em: What part of Nigeria are you from?

Me: The East. Imo state.

Em: Eziokwu!!? E na su Igbo? Really? Do you speak Igbo?

He said this with the joy of a proverbial shepard who has just found his long lost sheep. Igbo is the language spoken by the Igbos  from the Eastern part of Nigeria, where I come from. 

Me: Ehe nu. Ofuma ofuma (Of course I do. Very well for that matter) 

The rest of our conversation is held in Igbo.

Em: Did you know I am Igbo? Why haven’t you spoken it to me before all this time you have been coming here?

Me: No real reason. Most times I just want to cut my hair and go. Ndo biko. I am sorry.

Em: Ok, no problem. When was the last time you went home?

Another question we tend to ask each other to ascertain if we have the correct documentation to allow us back into Britain or we just don’t have that many family ties left at home.

Me: 2008. My family (brother and sister) are here. My parents visit every year.

Em: Are you married?

Me: No?

Em: Eh? Why?!?

There was shock in his voice. Like it is a mortal sin to be male, Igbo and living in South London.

Me: It just hasn’t happened.

Em: You have a girlfriend?

Me: No

Em: Ah ah? Why now?!?

Now he is really worried for my existence on this earth

Me: Women don’t interest me.

WTF?!! Did I just say that in a testosterone filled  Nigerian Barbers’ shop??

Em: What interests you then?

Me: Men.

Em: Ok. I wouldn’t have guessed. You don’t look it.


Em: Are you proud? Do you hide it?

Me: I am telling you now, aren’t I? If anyone asks me I will tell them. I have come too far  to start denying.

Em: Are you male or female?

Wow…that threw me a bit…He is asking if I am top or bottom. Is he interested? Going by all my escapades both published and unpublished on this blog and my recent failed attempt to bottom, my response wasn’t a lie.

Me: Male.

Em: There is a guy from my village who lives around here. He is like a brother to me, so we talk. Everyone knows he is a female. The way he carries himself, but he is still hiding it. I told him he is here now in the UK, he can live freely. He got married to a white girl and got his papers then the marriage ended. The other day he told me he went home and got married and the girl is pregnant(!) I really don’t know why he did it?

There was even more disappointment in his voice than when I told him women didn’t interest me. He was genuinely concerned. This touched me.

He took out his phone and showed me the guy’s picture. Yup he is fem. I recognised him. I have seen him sashaying on the high street. A blind dog would know he is gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that. It is just the way he is built.

Me: As long as our people continue to demonise homosexuality, you will find people like your kinsman all over the place. They will continue to hide because they are scared of the fall out and the shame they might bring to their family.

Em: Do your parents know?

Me: They know but we don’t discuss it. They have stopped asking me about a girlfriend or when I am getting married.

Em: Are they happy about it?

Me: Probably not. A few years ago my mother asked me again, I told her I wasn’t getting married to a woman just to make her (my mum)happy? It would be unfair on the woman and I wouldn’t be happy. So she just has to deal with it.

Em: Hmmm. Have you had girlfriend’s before? Don’t women “move” you? Isn’t it a choice?

Me: Nwokem, my friend, it is not a choice. It is how God made me. Yes, I have been with women, but they don’t ‘move’ me as much as men do. What is a choice is how I have decided to live my life. I can either be happy being myself or unhappy trying to make my mother happy and my ‘wife’ unhappy.

Em: Do you go to church?

Me: Yes.

Em: But not our Nigerian Pentecostal church?

Me: No. I attend Church of England. In Nigerian Pentecostal churches, everyone wants to know your business and being gay is not acceptable. They will start binding and casting out demons on my behalf.  Meanwhile the church elders are either in the closet or committing adultery. I have no time or offering for closet cases or blatant hypocrisy.

Em: Nna, I hear you. Our people hide the thing well.

Me: Please continue to support your kinsman. Let him know you are there for him. With open minded Nigerians like you there would be hope for us all.

With that I paid him and shook his hand and left.

I thought to myself, he is quite open-minded and reasonably vast in the ways of western ways of life. He mentioned a couple of other gay Nigerians clients of his, so he is reasonably comfortable and exposed to the gay way of life. He is not saying “we do not have gays in Nigeria”

I just wonder if he would be the same if he went back to Nigeria and settled down. Society has a way of changing us. Maybe I am just being cynical.

Time will tell…..

Gay Foxes

Fox hunting was banned in the UK in 2005. The Government of the day in an attempt to compensate  for  centuries of cruelty meted out on foxes, set up a reparation fund for the foxes’ protection.

Country fox


Part of these funds was earmarked for the relocation of the foxes. Armed with these funds and coupled with the increase of overflowing rubbish bins due to the reduced refuse collection in the big cities (which to them is what the lure bright lights of Broadway is to an aspiring theatre starlet), the foxes packed their belongings and landed themselves in cities like London.Read More »

The Joys of Sober sex

Party and Play  (PnP) is a phenomenon of recreational drug users having sex with each other or a group. It can also be referred to as Chemsex.  In previous posts I have blamed Chemsex for inhibiting any decent online hook ups for me, as I have a zero – tolerance attitude to drugs.

A bit has been said recently in mainstream media about the increase of Chemsex within the London gay community. It has also been reported that there is a direct link to the increase of new HIV infections in the capital – 21% increase in 2013 over 2012 and this is a higher increase than the rest of the UK.

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