How true is the saying that "Na woman dey kill man." ?

Well, here:

Women be like packages. Packages that come with nested layers of inner packages.

The first layer (the one a man sees the first day he meets the woman) is probably the most beautiful.

As soon as you toast her, and she agrees, she opens the first package/layer of stress to you.

Next, she waits until your third leg waka go colonize the thick jungle inbetween her two legs (commitment), then, she opens up another inner package of stress.

At this point, most men will not notice how every package has an inner box contained it. They go on like excited monkeys on fool's errand trying to see when they'll open the final package that doesn't contain an inner box --which consequently leads to marriage based on "love."

After marriage, the woman opens the most sacred chamber to the man. This chamber is the darkest of all, really really really, as in really dark dark... DARK! chamber of stress and ingredients: a Billion Shades of Stress.

After the marriage stage, the man is projected into another level entirely --exponential growth of stress that comes to life as soon as she starts littering... Kids. At which point, her packages get an upgrade from the apparently lifeless nature of which the man still feels he can escape anytime, to a permanent kind of package which life has been given to!

At the kids stage, the woman's packages have now evolved into generating their own packages of stress that intensifies during their teenage years. At first, these new kinds of packages called kids are so cuuuute (awwww), like energetic puppies... but the excited monkey fails to realize that puppies do not remain puppies forever --not even close to a fourth of their entire lifespan. At this point, the monkey trying to see when the packages will finish becomes miserably confused as the live packages are more than he can keep track of while simultaneously managing the woman's packages; He realizes a similarity in the nature of the Kids' packages --you open one, just to find another. From the soiled nappies stage to pre-school, school, teenage rebellion, up to their years of higher education. If the man ain't lucky, he births "Lazy" packages that won't gain independence: And who art thou to call them lazy, independent or unserious? You gave them life they didn't beg for! Deal with it. Yes, that's right.

At this confused and pathetic stage, the man's life flashes before his eyes and he realizes that he once had a choice: Not to get too excited opening up onion layers of a woman's package (the more you open, the more you cry) --and it has no end. However, 15 years too late.

Man now spends most of his free time hanging out with fellow married/miserable friends, trying to escape the nagging mountain of boiling vulcanoes at home.

Finally, the man dies trying to win the battle; Or, he could win --consequently, he becomes too stressed, and weak after "winning" --and may die without realizing. Worst, he realizes how much he could have enjoyed a less stressful life if only he transcended his biology and the selfish, impulsive pushes made by his DNA to replicate it self, while offering him a few seconds of pleasure: Good dog, good dog, fetch!


Tarnk you.

Rubbish get a life

Women na scam
#SMAN

oyolohi:
How true is the saying that "Na woman dey kill man." ?

Well, here:

Women be like packages. Packages that come with nested layers of inner packages.

The first layer (the one a man sees the first day he meets the woman) is probably the most beautiful.

As soon as you toast her, and she agrees, she opens the first package/layer of stress to you.

Next, she waits until your third leg waka go colonize the thick jungle inbetween her two legs (commitment), then, she opens up another inner package of stress.

At this point, most men will not notice how every package has an inner box contained it. They go on like excited monkeys on fool's errand trying to see when they'll open the final package that doesn't contain an inner box --which consequently leads to marriage based on "love."

After marriage, the woman opens the most sacred chamber to the man. This chamber is the darkest of all, really really really, as in really dark dark... DARK! chamber of stress and ingredients: a Billion Shades of Stress.

After the marriage stage, the man is projected into another level entirely --exponential growth of stress that comes to life as soon as she starts littering... Kids. At which point, her packages get an upgrade from the apparently lifeless nature of which the man still feels he can escape anytime, to a permanent kind of package which life has been given to!

At the kids stage, the woman's packages have now evolved into generating their own packages of stress that intensifies during their teenage years. At first, these new kinds of packages called kids are so cuuuute (awwww), like energetic puppies... but the excited monkey fails to realize that puppies do not remain puppies forever --not even close to a fourth of their entire lifespan. At this point, the monkey trying to see when the packages will finish becomes miserably confused as the live packages are more than he can keep track of while simultaneously managing the woman's packages; He realizes a similarity in the nature of the Kids' packages --you open one, just to find another. From the soiled nappies stage to pre-school, school, teenage rebellion, up to their years of higher education. If the man ain't lucky, he births "Lazy" packages that won't gain independence: And who art thou to call them lazy, independent or unserious? You gave them life they didn't beg for! Deal with it. Yes, that's right.

At this confused and pathetic stage, the man's life flashes before his eyes and he realizes that he once had a choice: Not to get too excited opening up onion layers of a woman's package (the more you open, the more you cry) --and it has no end. However, 15 years too late.

Man now spends most of his free time hanging out with fellow married/miserable friends, trying to escape the nagging mountain of boiling vulcanoes at home.

Finally, the man dies trying to win the battle; Or, he could win --consequently, he becomes too stressed, and weak after "winning" --and may die without realizing. Worst, he realizes how much he could have enjoyed a less stressful life if only he transcended his biology and the selfish, impulsive pushes made by his DNA to replicate it self, while offering him a few seconds of pleasure: Good dog, good dog, fetch!


Tarnk you.

Funny as it is, I enjoyed reading this piece.
Nicely captured though I don't exactly subscribe to it's message

What's tha business?