Kingsley Nnabuagha suffers from a disease caused by infection by his father's saliva

He insisted on kissing him   and that contact of his saliva with the boy's skin pushed his  already fragile mind over the edge.

Why?

Canine beasts infect people through their saliva.

Why was he kissing him ? Should he be reported for child abuse, for attempted you-know-what?

From that picture he  showed to the world last  year of the elder Mr. Kingsley, retired railways worker and once respectable

member of society, drinking from a toilet bowl, since the poor man is now convinced he is a dog, a tragic aberration I advised

Kingsley as a caring cyber companion not to reveal to the the world, you refused to take heed.

Anyway, what will I do? Since the son constantly shows the same signs of dementia bestalititis, degeneration to the level of an animal, as the father, one needs to try to penetrate the fumes clouding the mind of the son. The fact the he can string some sentences together, though often incoherent and nonsensical, shows he might be redeemed.

Kingsley, I know you are in there. Take heart, even though the beast refuses to allow the human being to manifest himself. With

time, with further education, I am convinced the real Kingsley will emerge and might show himself as a human being.

 

Does Kingsley's unfortunate father  recognize the sound of his own name?

 I urged his son Kingsley  not to follow him into that hole he insists on digging in the backyard in search of a bone to eat on

account of his condition.

There is only so much a  son can do.

If it becomes too bad Kingsley  has my confidential phone no.

I have a helicopter ambulance I can use to whisk him to help.

I wont charge too much even though he is dangerous in his present condition. He must not bite one for example, lest one

become like him.

Did he bite Kingsley?

Is that why Kingsley is  are the way he is?

The hypothesis that he bit his son  would explain much of his son's  irrational, illogical and generally asinine behavior.

Its not beyond hope though.

Kingsley  can call me and the sound of my voice will help him  gradually gain normalcy.

 

 

Kingsley the idiot  born from the urine of a demented creature,
Kingsley, the pervert wasted by the evil attentions of his  bestial father

keeps  displaying his  sexual perversion.

​

Horrible.

Must people  know that thing his  father did to him  that made them put him in prison?

That thing that left Kingsley  bleeding  from the place where the sun does not shine into?

That thing that made Kingsley a pervert?

Kingsley shows that  not only is he  a senseless idiot either demented from birth or by psychological injury from what your father did to you, a terrible experience I have been helping your family with

since it came to my attention as a doctor who specializes in treating the kind of dark deeds  the 

family is known for.​​

But what shall we do about you Kingsley?

How will I help him  realize his   problem?

What more am I  to do in my service to members of his  family in my role as their  family doctor?

 

Kingsley Nnabuagha, waste matter of a goat from Ogwashuku,  still does not  want to respect
the hand that feeds him.

I am not referring right now to  the human name he  foolishly gave himself  since its clear something urgent must be done to salvage him.

Wont he  heed the tears of his r poor, demented mother as she rolls on the rubbish dump, her home in the Ogwashuku market?

Wont he  heed the entreaties  of his  bestial father? We know he cannot talk, only growl, but he is his  father and he cares for Kingsley the Idiot.

While Kingsley laysabout as he  have done all his  life, if life it can be called, while he  poses for his Internet friends, his  deranged parents keep begging me to help him  out of the milk of human kindness
which even in their dim brains, they know I am much endowed with.

That is why I keep struggling to redeem  that  son of a dog's anus,Kingsley Nnabuagha.

Will he take  the medication that will help him  sleep off his  neuroses, the one I prescribed the last

time I  visited his  home under the bridge?

Please, anyone who knows him should urge him to take it. It has a bitter taste but its for his  own good.

​

​His  mother  fainted on her rubbish dump at Ogwashuku from hearing that you have exposed the

family's secret of mental retardation and perversion.

I warned him  but he  would not take heed.

A word is enough for the wise it is said.

But when the person being addressed is equal to a ball of slime, is no better than a drop of spittle,

what good is a word, what use is many words?

Kingsley, the slime pig  has no right to hold the fact that his  father is a dog responsible for his  condition.

We know the elder Mr.Nnabuagha  is an animal, a rabies infested dog, but their deranged son  should help himself.

He should take his  medication!

He should do as Dr. Toyin says and take his  medication!

What will I do?

I am at my wits end about Kingsley Nnnabuagha.

His mother, despite being too crazy to realize that the rubbish dump where she lives at Ogwashuku is not a four poster bed, which the poor woman in her blasted brain thinks it is,she is able to remember her lost and vagrant son, and has begged me to help him.

He suffers from something called dementia delusionis,where everywhere the person turns, he sees a reflection of his dementia.

What is the source of his problem?

In childhood, something terrible happened to him.

It was so devastating that he cant describe it.

I have had to make deductions from interviewing his mother, father and deciphering his broken sentences.

What is this thing?

Something to do with his father, with the demented man's lust for the soft bottom of his child....aaahhhh... decency prevents me from stating the rest.....a person can say only so much.....

Because of that trauma, everything he reads has to be interpreted in terms of sex.

Toyin Adepoju tells a funny story about his works as a lecturer, it becomes to this lost soul a story of sexual misadventure.

But I must bear with his problem.

Sympathy for that unfortunate mother who was unfortunate enough to marry into a family infested with jackal blood, compels me.

 

Seeing  the usual dripping from the rabid  jaws  of Kingsley Nnabuagha, I  rush to inform his mother who has begged me on the demented creature's case.

Mrs Nnabuagha speaking from atop her rubbish dump at Ogwashuku:

'I know I live on what people call  a rubbish dump, which I see as a castle, but is that any reason why my son should behave as if his head is leaking the little water  inside it?

Please, for my sake ignore him.'

I am  shocked as I pass by the 'castle' of the woman encrusted in filth but eyes shining with love for her clearly demented son, who dribbles with profanities like a mad dog,  a person infected by that most deadly combination, human/dog madness infected by his tragic father who bit him as the child lay innocently  in his cot.

What  else is one to do but heed the words of a demented but loving mother?