First of all...Introduction
Whatz good people! I no wan preach, but I gotta give you a quick update. If your area code is within the Tri-State region, mark April 27th on your calendar. I no dey like blow my trumpet sha, but we all know say Superman no dey buy queue for gas station. Yours sincerely will be throwing it down at the Toro Lounge on April 27th, and it will be an epic night!
For my fellow confirmed bubblers, there will be bottle service and you'll have the opportunity to legally oppress thy neighbor. If you've signed up for Zumba classes, abeg cancel am, on April 27th, as Iyanya would say "All I want is your waist".
If you are single and ready to mingle, come through and you'll be hooked, confam! If you are married, bring your oga/madam at the top with you, daz all. If you have no plans for the 27th, kindly navigate to Toro Lounge and you'll have the fun of your life. If you already have alternative plans, reschedule and redirect your footsteps to Tribeca.
If you no dey Yankee, don't dull, just waka go embassy, tell them say you wan obtain visa for the party of the year. Yes we can and Yes we fit...
I'll be bringing you the latest blend of Naija, DanceHall, House, Electronic and Hip Hop beats. When we get to the break of dawn, we go switch gear enter Gospel, confam!
Wondering about the details and addy...keep an eye on this page
Friday, April 5, 2013
Le Fart...Musical Diversion
The sun's rays filter in through the slightly parted window shades, casting warm glows on the tousled bed sheets. Outside the birds chirp merrily, an occasional high octave tune carried by the waves of the sun-warmed springtime morning breeze. Inside the room, beneath the sheets, she lay snug in the warmth of the niche carved by their intertwined limbs. A soft smile on her lips, her beauty captivating, even while asleep. The tranquility of the moment was ripped apart by a loud sound… braaaaapp brraaaappp!
"What the hell was that?" She yelled as she scrambled out of the bed in panic.
"Nothing hun, I just messed", He replied bemused.
"You just messed? That was a fart?" The look of shock in her eyes and the tinge of disbelief in her voice was as clear as the call to morning prayer on the streets of Maidugiri.
"Yes o, a belch from the gluteus maximus," he responded happily For some odd reason an image of Gandalf from Lord of the Rings had just popped up in his head and gluteus maximus sounded rather apt as opposed to 'ass'. After all, she started it, who refers to 'mess' as 'fart' anyway?
"Come back to bed jor, you are acting like you've never heard someone mess before,"
But she didn't budge, now the shock in her eyes had given way to a look of suspicion.
"How come I can't smell anything?" She quipped, her voice quavering a little.
Puzzled, he sniffed the air, his nostrils twitching and flaring furiously as he sought the tell-tale scent of toxic human gas.
"Na wah o, see as we are analyzing mess like Sherlock Holmes. Come back to bed boo, it is not that serious. You should be thanking God that the smell is not proportional to the amplitude.", he muttered.
Slowly she backed away from the bed, her eyes darting around the room like a caged prey. Inwards, her brain was screaming in full panic mode, flee while you have the chance, this is exactly how Oscar Pistorius killed his fiancee and blamed it on non-existent house burglars.
Her eyes grew with alarm as she saw the bulge beneath the sheet where he lay. Was that the weapon? To think that she had fallen for this serial killer's charm last night and followed him to his apartment without any suspicion. Chineke, he could have easily killed me while I was overdosed with good sex and sleep. The bastard's eyes were not moving from her right now and he had a glazed maniac expression on his face, the quiet drool of a predator about to pounce, she thought to herself, her panic increasing.
On the bed, he was licking his lips in his best LL Cool J style impression, his mind aflame with thots. Dayuuum! See how she is backing away to run and dive into my bed, he thought. Beneath the sheets, the tell-tale sign of his charged D pushed and strained against the sheet. His eyes glazed over in anticipation as he waited for her, his mind chanting D’Prince’s "take banana”.
Suddenly the pungent smell of the mess wafted to her nose as her back touched the wall. Just then she realized she was naked...
To be continued
"What the hell was that?" She yelled as she scrambled out of the bed in panic.
"Nothing hun, I just messed", He replied bemused.
"You just messed? That was a fart?" The look of shock in her eyes and the tinge of disbelief in her voice was as clear as the call to morning prayer on the streets of Maidugiri.
"Yes o, a belch from the gluteus maximus," he responded happily For some odd reason an image of Gandalf from Lord of the Rings had just popped up in his head and gluteus maximus sounded rather apt as opposed to 'ass'. After all, she started it, who refers to 'mess' as 'fart' anyway?
"Come back to bed jor, you are acting like you've never heard someone mess before,"
But she didn't budge, now the shock in her eyes had given way to a look of suspicion.
"How come I can't smell anything?" She quipped, her voice quavering a little.
Puzzled, he sniffed the air, his nostrils twitching and flaring furiously as he sought the tell-tale scent of toxic human gas.
"Na wah o, see as we are analyzing mess like Sherlock Holmes. Come back to bed boo, it is not that serious. You should be thanking God that the smell is not proportional to the amplitude.", he muttered.
Slowly she backed away from the bed, her eyes darting around the room like a caged prey. Inwards, her brain was screaming in full panic mode, flee while you have the chance, this is exactly how Oscar Pistorius killed his fiancee and blamed it on non-existent house burglars.
Her eyes grew with alarm as she saw the bulge beneath the sheet where he lay. Was that the weapon? To think that she had fallen for this serial killer's charm last night and followed him to his apartment without any suspicion. Chineke, he could have easily killed me while I was overdosed with good sex and sleep. The bastard's eyes were not moving from her right now and he had a glazed maniac expression on his face, the quiet drool of a predator about to pounce, she thought to herself, her panic increasing.
On the bed, he was licking his lips in his best LL Cool J style impression, his mind aflame with thots. Dayuuum! See how she is backing away to run and dive into my bed, he thought. Beneath the sheets, the tell-tale sign of his charged D pushed and strained against the sheet. His eyes glazed over in anticipation as he waited for her, his mind chanting D’Prince’s "take banana”.
Suddenly the pungent smell of the mess wafted to her nose as her back touched the wall. Just then she realized she was naked...
To be continued
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Setting P...
Summer greetings to everyone! The heat wave is over, so we are slowly easing into the cool phase of the summer season. Love is in the air, wedding plans are being made, nervous couples are fidgeting over wedding costs, wedding planners are busy navigating the curveballs and little details involved, guest lists are being sent from New York to London to Las Gidi, seating arrangements, tough decisions on whether to invite the ex or not...
Now that we just mentioned the ex, I still recall a scene from Four Weddings and a Funeral that cracks me up all the time, if you haven't seen, google it! "If there's any reason why this couple shouldn't get married, please speak up or forever hold your peace"... I think that's the most nerve racking 5 seconds in the history of a man's life. Eyes furiously scanning the crowd while trying to look calm and relaxed, when in real sense, your heart beats faster than Usain's Bolts footsteps on the race track...then you hear a female voice from the crowd saying "Excuse me Pastor..." (Jump and Pass!)...
You may want to invest in special musical forces to counter that move. Let me give you a hint of what a dj can do even when there's a little slip like that. Once the ex puts her hand up in an attempt to scatter your 'p', the dj will play DJ Khaled's beat "All I do is Win"...And everybody's hand goes up/And they stay there... That should fix it! You may want to give the church a heads-up though, so no one freaks out when they see a DJ with speakers scanning the crowd...lol.
Consider adding a distinct african soulful tune to your wedding plans this summer. Contact us if you have any special events planned. Our style is urban, classy and still traditionally stylish.
Check out this polished track by Dipo, titled "Be ur man"...
Special shout out to RENOVATE (www.renovatenigeria.org) for the amazing gala event (2012 RETHINK GALA) they hosted recently. Visit their page for more information.
Now that we just mentioned the ex, I still recall a scene from Four Weddings and a Funeral that cracks me up all the time, if you haven't seen, google it! "If there's any reason why this couple shouldn't get married, please speak up or forever hold your peace"... I think that's the most nerve racking 5 seconds in the history of a man's life. Eyes furiously scanning the crowd while trying to look calm and relaxed, when in real sense, your heart beats faster than Usain's Bolts footsteps on the race track...then you hear a female voice from the crowd saying "Excuse me Pastor..." (Jump and Pass!)...
You may want to invest in special musical forces to counter that move. Let me give you a hint of what a dj can do even when there's a little slip like that. Once the ex puts her hand up in an attempt to scatter your 'p', the dj will play DJ Khaled's beat "All I do is Win"...And everybody's hand goes up/And they stay there... That should fix it! You may want to give the church a heads-up though, so no one freaks out when they see a DJ with speakers scanning the crowd...lol.
Consider adding a distinct african soulful tune to your wedding plans this summer. Contact us if you have any special events planned. Our style is urban, classy and still traditionally stylish.
Check out this polished track by Dipo, titled "Be ur man"...
Special shout out to RENOVATE (www.renovatenigeria.org) for the amazing gala event (2012 RETHINK GALA) they hosted recently. Visit their page for more information.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
"Stay Thirsty My Friends..."
Just thinking...
So you are in the club, getting your groove on and after a few minutes of burning calories twisting your body to the beat, you head over to the bar to grab a drink. That's where the drama starts...
First of all, why do people like to chill next to the bar? To make matters worse, the spectators don't have any drinks in their hands, they just 'chill' close to the bar like people gathering for a township meeting. The worst culprits are those who actually stay at the bar itself: bros, u dey ask the bartender for interview abi you dey do internship or bar exam? Kindly buy your drink and fade so that others can purchase their liquor. The bar-huggers are not only spoiling market for the bartender, they are also burning cable for the chicks who coulda bagged free drinks from potential suitors/oppressors
So after elbowing, headbutting and biting your way through the crowd of spectators, you finally make it to the bar (in your mind you can hear your brain cells applauding you like Spartacus in the arena). The bartender flashes a Julia Roberts smile at you and asks for your order, "vodka and cranberry" you shout, struggling to be heard above the music. Na then the story go just change from thriller to naija horror film, the bartender metamorphoses into a medical student before your eyes, pulls a plastic cup, fills with ice, measures/adds 2 teaspoons of vodka and 10 tablespoons of cranberry to the ice and dumps a thin straw into the mix. Like play like play, she transforms back to a bartender with the Julia Roberts smile and tells you " $13". Abeg is the bar in recession or did I tell you that I am on an alcohol diet? Abi did you hear me order "vodka and cranberry on the rocks?"
No wonder some sharp men stick to buying bottles of beer in the club, more cost-efficient than liquor. But bros, why are you sipping beer? Is it too hot or is it burning your tongue? You can't be sipping beer from a bottle o, that kind of swag is too abstract. If you want to ration the beer, kindly ask for a teacup and a saucer, so that you can get your "sip-on". As for the big boiz popping bottles, no comment! I want to be like that when I grow up, no rush. As a proverb correctly phrased it, "No be who first call police dey win case". (literal translation: don't dull)
Dulleth not!
Just thinking...
So you are in the club, getting your groove on and after a few minutes of burning calories twisting your body to the beat, you head over to the bar to grab a drink. That's where the drama starts...
First of all, why do people like to chill next to the bar? To make matters worse, the spectators don't have any drinks in their hands, they just 'chill' close to the bar like people gathering for a township meeting. The worst culprits are those who actually stay at the bar itself: bros, u dey ask the bartender for interview abi you dey do internship or bar exam? Kindly buy your drink and fade so that others can purchase their liquor. The bar-huggers are not only spoiling market for the bartender, they are also burning cable for the chicks who coulda bagged free drinks from potential suitors/oppressors
So after elbowing, headbutting and biting your way through the crowd of spectators, you finally make it to the bar (in your mind you can hear your brain cells applauding you like Spartacus in the arena). The bartender flashes a Julia Roberts smile at you and asks for your order, "vodka and cranberry" you shout, struggling to be heard above the music. Na then the story go just change from thriller to naija horror film, the bartender metamorphoses into a medical student before your eyes, pulls a plastic cup, fills with ice, measures/adds 2 teaspoons of vodka and 10 tablespoons of cranberry to the ice and dumps a thin straw into the mix. Like play like play, she transforms back to a bartender with the Julia Roberts smile and tells you " $13". Abeg is the bar in recession or did I tell you that I am on an alcohol diet? Abi did you hear me order "vodka and cranberry on the rocks?"
No wonder some sharp men stick to buying bottles of beer in the club, more cost-efficient than liquor. But bros, why are you sipping beer? Is it too hot or is it burning your tongue? You can't be sipping beer from a bottle o, that kind of swag is too abstract. If you want to ration the beer, kindly ask for a teacup and a saucer, so that you can get your "sip-on". As for the big boiz popping bottles, no comment! I want to be like that when I grow up, no rush. As a proverb correctly phrased it, "No be who first call police dey win case". (literal translation: don't dull)
Dulleth not!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
"Dulleth Not..."
Can you hear the beat? Can you feel it coursing through your veins? Can you feel the rhythmic sound melting into your bloodstream, delivering shots of adrenalin to your system like little electrical sparks. The frenzy, the excitement, the energy, the thrill as the music liquefies slowly and merges into your body, becoming one with your soul. The next step in the sequence can be unpredictable, for some it begins with the nerves in their feet twitching, for others their eyes widen with excitement and bodies start to sway to the rhythm, head nodding back and forth to the beat...
The music genre doesn't matter, it could be electrofunk, dance-hall, soukous/makossa, hip-hop, bossa nova/samba, afrobeat, fuji
My job is to unleash the right beat, unlock your inhibitions...and to do it over and over again, till your mind, body and soul climax with the rhythm of the beat...
I am...DJ Yoossouph
"Dulleth not"...
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