Tag Archives: random thoughts

Been Thinking ’bout

1. Monogamy and it’s associated boredom

2. Female vocalists that sound as good live as on an mp3 file

3. Drake being a good rapper

4. Mitch Hedberg and other original souls that have gone too soon

5. Trust and two-facedness

6. Grammar nazis

7. Promiscuity being parallel to musical eclecticism

8. Accrobatic strippers and overweight ones

9. Titillation  and it’s accompanied release

10. Lameness

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What I’ve been up to lately…



Since my last post (haven’t bothered to check when) some good and bad things have happened to me. And there they are, in no particular order of importance.

1. I got a new haircut ( Didn’t take pictures of my last haircut) and trimmed my beard

I hate being bored or be left doing the same over and over again. So every so often I like to change things up in my life and includes growing a beard after getting tired of my babby-bottom-smooth look or shaving it all off and going for a quazi Buddhist monk look.

Off topic: Some studies have shown that growing a beard shields your face, at least some part of it, from UV rays (I’m assuming these UV rays are bad for men alone).

And the reason I don’t take many photos of me looking scruffy is because most of the time I know I don’t look good but I do it all the same just for the fun of it. It’s different from what I’m used to and that’s all that matters. But by limiting the amount of photographic evidence of my grooming misfires, I also limit the number of  what-the-fuck-where-you-thinking moments when I’m going through my photos as an old man.

2. Got a new crush…Well not exactly a crush but read on

First of I don’t know if calling my feelings for her a crush is appropriate. I’m too old for one , I think. At 28 I know what I want and what I don’t want. Yes, I do 🙂

Crushes are for pre-pubescent and pubescent kids (with their accompanying scent) who don’t know what to call what they’re feeling for this girl or boy in particular. Why her, why does she make my stomach grumble even though I just ate? Why does my heartbeat go funny anytime I see him?

Some people say that at thirty you’re decided on which course to take in life. You become set in your ways, until you make a cozy bed for yourself with the earthworms and bugs in your casket. I feel this at 28 so I know exactly what I’m feeling for her.

I told her that I liked her when I should have told her I am in love. But I think I made the right decision of revealing dial number six on the scale of feelings since I told her this over the phone.

I hate talking about weighty issues that should be talked about in person, on the phone. And my friends it doesn’t get any weightier than this believe me.

But the good thing is the ice is broken. Part of the chill of starting up conversations has dissipated. And this I like a lot so we’ll see how things progress.

3. Tackling my stutter head on

I have spent so much of my life shackled and paralyzed by my stutter. And so for the past couple of weeks I have decided to finally face it head on like a fearless bull fighter or a drunk Liverpudlian facing this same bull.

Stuttering has shaped my life for better or worse.

For better because, it’s  shaped and molded me into one hell of a tough bastard. At least inside. Outside I’m still a wimp. But don’t test me 😉

For worse because it’s retarded, or more accurately I’ve allowed it to retard my growth from boyhood to manhood. Proper manhood.

So what I’ve been doing is paying closer attention to my speech and not neglect it like I’ve always done and only kick myself for failing to work on my fluency when I start stuttering badly in some tense situation or other.


PS: I apologize if you were expecting me to have climbed Everest, gotten married, had a son , speed-read my way through 300 books, cycled around Ghana or learned tap dancing or Alkayida or accomplished some other great feat.

I live a boring life.

But it’s mine 😉


– Steve.

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Been Thinking ’bout …



1.  Remorseless guilty pleasures

2.  Thinking less and acting more on previous thoughts

3.  Pleasing oneself for the hell of it

4.  Fooling around 

5.  Sad clowns who make you laugh harder than happy clowns

6.  Dance music

7.  Involuntary spasms created by hearing the bass 

8.  The lucky number 8 … in snooker

9.  All good things coming to an end without warning

10. All bad things beginning without a warning

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On Mortality


There are a couple of things I fear in my life. I fear losing a loved one, I fear ridicule for ridicule sake especially one without justification, I fear not being as good as I think I am and I fear growing up a failure and poor. All of these though pale in comparison to my fear of death.

The reaper must be rubbing his hands together with glee if he can read English.

I think I read somewhere that most men think more about sex within the course of the day, than anything else. Thoughts of my mortality come a close second for. Third is how I’m going to die. Would I have any last words and if I did who would hear them and what impact would it make on their lives or on that of my family. Would I say anything worthwhile other than “FUCK!” ? Would I die slowly, alone, or in the company of incompetent surgeons? List goes on and on

The whole notion of leaving this plane of existence, that’s if there is another plane, and having all bodily remains of yourself eviscerated with time bothers me. I matter. Goddammit I matter. I didn’t come into this world after nine months of conception, which was a product of some months of courtship  then marital consummation, to then vanish from it like vapour.  Even if my contributions to the world at age 27 might not be as solid as that of my peers, I do matter.

I suspect my fear of dying is a product of my fear of dying unfulfilled. Dying without accomplishing even half of the things I have planned for myself and the world. I mean I live in a country with a shit movie industry and I have plans to change that. I grew up with some money, big house and a car, then lost it all when dad died. So I want to taste the good life all over again. That’s not too much to ask is it?

I want to see the eyes of my unborn children swimming around in my ball sack. See if they inherit my nasty smoking habit, hair colour, nose, size and shape of head, intelligence without the depression, see if they turn out to be mostly girls or boys, gay or straight or transgender.

This kind of shit matters goddamit and the thought not seeing them because I could have a fatal heart attack, or stroke, or get stabbed or shot dead without warning, really pains me.

Don’t you all wish the universe in its infinite mysterious ways tattooed our foreheads, or somewhere most obscure, with our expiry dates the moment we’re pushed from vagina or cut out from womb? For example, at birth this would be my tag/stamp/tattoo on my butt cheek

Name: Stephen Nelson

Expiry date: so and so

Side Note: Better get a move on son, clock’s ticking

Yeah so what if something like this would take out mystery from life? So what, who cares? Some of us need surety to make us function.

May be the whole idea of mortality should never have been discovered or identified by human beings. It should just have been one of those things that just happen and we let it. Without any lengthy philosophical questions or discourse. We just accept it and move on with our lives.

Animals die all the time. I’ve never seen any kind of them gather round each other to mourn their dead.

Who has ever heard of funeral rites being held for a rat, by fellow rats?

Anyway… In the words of AL Kennedy, Onwards!

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Been thinking ’bout

Been thinking about…

  1. Why Ghanaian forex bureaus stopped displaying rates outside.
  2. Knock-off football jerseys that have lighter feel to them.
  3. Empty containers having a longer lifespan than the contents they held.
  4. Drivers with the smuggest look behind the wheel not being the owners of  the cars they are driving.
  5. The best answers being the simplest ones; cliched but very true.
  6. The fact that women have stopped fighting like women.
  7. Having a theory linking brain tumours to stressful calls and so giving out my number  to cheerful people only.
  8. Coins devaluing my wallet.
  9. Pen drives doubling as crucifixes.
  10. How to help someone holding up a sign that reads, “homeless and horny!”.
  11. Only shopping on the other side of the window.
  12. Sometimes confusing “public enemy” with “public enema”.



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Count your blessings

Sometimes I feel that I should be grateful for the things I have and for those things I didn’t have, because I would have been miserable if I had them or worse, be dead. I should learn to thank God,yes the one with the big G, the universe and any other elements, unknown to me for a pretty damn good reason I’m sure, that are responsible for my being here. The only thing I could accuse ‘them’ of is being careless with my comfort, or lack there of, on this planet. I could have been born to the same parents, but richer. I could have lived in a stress-free, loving but not perfect family. That would make me more uncomfortable; perfection that is. I could have developed into someone who could fearlessly back up his radical thoughts with the needed action. Instead I’ve grown up to be a wuss of sorts. A pansy. A grown ass boy who can’t defend himself with speed in a heated argument but would rather settle it by his fists…

But then again, I think I should be grateful for having a marvelously inventive brain and a functioning body devoid of any terminal diseases, that I know of. May be, I might be six feet under with all these things I crave for, who knows.

Extract from my personal offline Diary/Journal

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