Tag Archives: P-square

Henhouse Prowlers performing ‘Chop My Money’

Someone just sent me this video of American bluegrass band, Henhouse Prowlers performing P-Square’s ‘Chop My Money’ in Abuja and I just think it’s awesome – the energy of the people in the room especially, their appreciation, just made me break out in goose pimples.

See for yourself.

I spy with my little eye, a menwich!

I can’t believe I ever thought twins were a little weird (might be the whole twin-killing Igbo thing. Maybe) but these guys have totally changed my mind.

Boom!

image

You are looking at my fantasy (that’s Hubs in the middle, after his interview with the duo).

(((Titter, Titter)))

OK, to be honest, it might just be the dimples really.

The video of the interview is here

P.S: I didn’t think all twins were weird. Only identical ones. Ha! But no more obviously.

P-square news-es

UPDATE: HUH. Ifite Dunu, not Ifite Awka. I must read properly (but in my defence I’ve been having a fever for three days now.)

Flavour gini? Biko he’s too far away!

I must be SERIOUSLY slacking in my life because I did not know that P-Square are from Awka. My very doormout. How could I not know? I need to hand my National Union of Journalists badge back because I am a disgrace to the profession.

Anyway, if you’re done drooling, the boys whose mother died on the 11th of July five hours after heart surgery in India will be in Ifite-Dunu to bury her on the 2nd of August.

May God be with them at this time. And I mean that in every way. Some people are just coming to ‘chop their money‘.  They need to go to the Imo-Owka oracle and  kee nkwucha (also known as a spiritual ‘Tuck n’ Tape) otherwise plenti plenti girls will have their bread buttered for life via child support payments.

This is NOT a post about Flavour N’abania

Well. That’s a change right?

No, this post is about one of those P-Square twins. I asked on Twitter and it seems the one I dreamt about day before yesterday night was Peter. Peter Okoye.

This one:

 Why was I dreaming about him? I’m glad you asked because I have NO IDEA.

No, shut up, I am not that shallow. 

In fact before I had the dream, I didn’t know he looked like this. Or which one he was. Or that he looked like this.

I didn’t really care about their music, didn’t get the hype…well, I like that ‘She’s on Fire’ song but I don’t particularly care for the newest one. Basically normal everyday stuff.

But then I had the dream…oh boy!…talk about drama. We were together and there was beef from some girl and there was a whole lot of driving around trying to escape this girl and then it turned into trying to protect my family from this mad girl and then I was married so we had to hide….look the details are unimportant, even if the love I felt for the P-Square character ‘burned’ like a urinary tract infection (If you haven’t been pregnant yet, just you wait) before antibiotics. 

(Come to think of it, I did wake up with that too-full bladder feeling so maybe it was that as opposed to undying love).

The point is, if you know him, or know someone who knows him or his brother/sister/grandmother/maiguard, please tell him to contact me. I want to know if he had the same dream, if our paths are to collide somehow and how to Flash Forwardly prevent what happened in that dream from occurring.

If however this is one of those Igbo dreams  – like if you dream someone is dead it means they are going to live until they turn to dust on their feet – then please he should stay on his own side of the fence. Igbo chis are tricky.

Last thing I need is for one of my sisters to introduce him as her intended. There is no Igbo way of telling someone you’ve seen their fiance naked. Even if it was just in a dream.

The Okoye brothers and why some Igbo boys’ money should be chopped.

I laughed at this video because a lot of Igbo boys I know are like this. Their salaka is too much, biko. When you dash and dash like this, after marriage what will you give her then eh? I swear, that’s why a lot of you slack after the wedding.

 

During courtship: Porsche Panamera (or other car) + funky coloured hair-do, which of course you paid for.

After wedding: Jacked-up hair + waking her up in the middle of the night with “Bia, nwanyi. Ji arulu aru na-agu m” and expecting her to roast yams at that time of the night.

 

OK, OK, fine. I have been told I am hard on your guys but really, it’s all love.