God Bless Nigeria

The other day, a fellow blogger (s/o to Cereal Daters), mentioned Nigerian men and her old issues with them. I made a comment about how I once dated one who played in the NFL and how it was the most win/win situation ever. The more I thought about it, the more I A) missed him and B)realized I need to start hanging out in Queens or Long Island, wherever those people live. Here's why:

They have completely out of control work ethic. He and his 4 siblings all had dual degrees, the other three being doctors. Upon arriving in America, his mother worked at McDonald's to pay her way through nursing school and his father drove a cab. All the family members (or village) that came with them shared their house on Long Island. Boys in one room, girls in the other, parents in master suite. Crazy. I barely wanted to share a bathroom with my sister. And all of them completed college, hustled like crazy, valedictorians and such. Even better considering their parents were like Coming to America-princes and sh*t.

They have completely out of control names so you usually wind up with a fun nickname that makes you feel hip to some sort of game somewhere (probably in Queens). I can't even begin to pronounce his name for you, but his nickname was fun. Can't tell you, sorry. He plays ball still.

They have completely out of control bodies. He is literally, THE ONE, THE ONLY who made me swoon on a regular basis. Whenever he took his gotdamn shirt off, I nearly lost my life. Twice. He had something like 4% body fat and enough abs to build a nice baker's dozen. Jeessssuuss walks.

They have completely out of control cute accents. It's slight, but adorable. Like a mix of French and English (London, not here, idiots).

They have completely out of control manners. The most gentlemanly guys out, I'm telling you. He used to be so chivalrous, I would blush- a feat for a girl of color. Once we were in a cab, just the two of us and my skirt had ridden up just a bit. He reached over and tugged it down which was only a little patronizing, but mostly sweet. I think.

They have completely out of control stamina. Africans run a lot, or at least it seems they do when they whoop everyone's ass at the summer Olympics and NYC Marathon. They seem to be born with an extra shot of stamina, reserves that DEFINITELY tap into when necessary.

I'm also basing all this on one dude, so it could be crap, but trust me! Based on the one, you definitely need to get a mandingo warrior (who can widely receive with the best of 'em) in your life.

What other race/cultures of peeps are you feeling?

That bitch stole my line,

Xoxo

Blackie Collins