“This article contains explicit material, please proceed with caution.”

What’s your favourite book?…SEX!!!

I have a pet peeve. It is a pet peeve that I am sure many women have experienced and it’s one that makes me want to sleep the final sleep, just so I can converse with Saint Peter at the pearly gates and enquire of him why men behave as such.

If you haven’t already guessed, my pet peeve is the uncanny ability that certain men have of steering any and all conversation in the direction of a sexual activity. I hate it for a number of reasons and as always, I’ll share all of them, if you could lend me your ears:

1) Though sexual attraction is a beautiful and necessary element to any relationship, boat or raft, if either party is focused solely on the sexual, it’s a giant red flag that shouts “I just want to shag”. There is nothing wrong with shagging, absolutely nothing. However, if that’s all you’re after, there are so many ways to get it; be it prostitution, Tinder or a drunken Saturday night out. Why on earth would you waste my precious time with false conversation that you are not-so-subtly trying to make into innuendo? It’s stupid. Stop it!

2) It is NEVER as inconspicuous as you think it is. This one is just a PSA to any man that reads this blog. If you’re going to attempt to make a conversation sexual, then I want you to do better. I want you to take the road less travelled and lead me there step by step. I want witty repartee and most of all, I want you to read my signals and actually listen to my conversation, so you can discern if I’m in the mood to even take it there before you start boring me with promises of your powerful member and lithe tongue.

What I do not under any circumstances want, is for you to force me into a shitty sexting scenario that I just didn’t ask for. If I mention that I had a banana for lunch, it’s because my metabolism hates me and whilst I was famished and craving the burger or the pastry, I had to opt for the slow energy releasing fruit. So if in the midst of my dietary woes, you begin to make phallic references, it won’t make me want to fellate you, nay, it will most certainly guarantee that the only part of my body you’ll ever see is my face and perhaps an elbow, if I’m feeling generous.

3) It is insulting to my intelligence when I point out that I am hip to your bullshit and you try a more ‘covert’ route, pretending to care about my day-to-day life in the hope that I’ll soften enough for you to have another crack. Many try this but I believe the worst I’ve ever seen was from a young gentleman named Ben. He doesn’t even deserve an alias – if anything, I hope he reads this, so he learns how incredibly stupid he sounded and tries harder for the next girl. You’re welcome by the way.

Benjamin was a horny toad. Naught wrong with that, I can be too. Only Benjy would wake up and ask me for a nude. He would give it a rest for a few hours, then try again and again. And again. By the umpteenth request, I was fed up (but because he was hot – blah, blah, I’m fickle blah – I didn’t give him the full force of my rage) so I politely informed him that I felt as if we were two different people and whilst he was just after a quick shag, I was quite ok without it.

I wasn’t angry at this point and would have honestly respected him if he said ‘ah – right, fair enough’ and then stopped contacting me. But nay, Benjamin chose instead to insist that he was there for my mind and thus asked me the singular most ridiculous question anyone has ever asked me: “what’s your favourite landscape”


It was all too much for me and as tempted as I was to say, “oh, just past Owerri – my father’s village Amagu has a delightful landscape” – I remembered all the people that have warned me that my sarcasm can be offensive and again I exhibited what can only be described as damn near saintly restraint. I asked him why he was asking me such a bizarre question and so out of the blue too. This folks, you’d assume would prompt him to give some thought to his response, but of course not. He informed me that he was…trying to get to know me better…

Long story short that was the beginning of the end of Benjamin. He of course soon after deemed his ‘heartfelt questions’ enough of that getting to know me malarkey and hastily requested another nude, so alas, no matter how sweet he tried to be after, all his words to me sounded like “what’s your favourite landscape” and I couldn’t take him seriously.

The moral of the story fellas is this: I am always telling you – women like sex too, perhaps even more so than men. We just don’t like to feel like naught but a walking hole. Show me you care or at the very least try a little harder when you’re pretending and everyone could be a winner. However, if you keep insisting on taking the lazy and frankly offensive route, you’ll meet the same fate as our Ben and you’ll find yourself as the butt of a joke on an irritated (but lexically gifted) woman’s blog post. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Nicola Onyema

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