random vibes


Your regular dose of 5 bob opinions reached yet another milestone last week….100,000 hits!

mishale

***Doing a jig!***

Well, thank you readers and fellow bloggers.

Now to aim for 200,000 hits n 2009!!!

What’s on my Playlist?

EMI Productions – The Pink Panther theme

So there you have it, “Cousin Barack” (yes, he’s my kassin, but do I sssaut?) clinched the US Presidency last Wednesday. And since then, it’s been nothing but Obama this, Obama that. Obama ukiamka mpaka Obama ukilala. Obama all over. Kogelo village got international recognition. Babies all over Nyanza were named Barack, Hussein, Michelle, Democratic Candidate Obama, Yes We Can Odhiambo, Audacity of Hope Akinyi etc etc. Nyanza was declared the 52nd State of the US, alternatively the US was declared the 9th Province of Kenya. We had a national holiday in his honour. (I hear Nigeria declared 5 days holiday after his victory) EABL even renamed Senator beer “PRESIDENT”!!!!!!!

Well, all that news coverage is not entirely a bad thing, and I’m definitely not complaining. It’s far better to watch the same old recycled CNN bulletins and seeing every other media house trying to out-do their rivals in getting the “inside scoop” on Obama than to watch our local politics. I think by now I can quote his entire life story and name each and every single character that played a role in shaping him into the man that he has become, including the bullies in his 6th grade class.

Something that I found interesting is that Mama Sarah Obama, Cousin Barack’s 86 year old grandmother, has been appointed a goodwill ambassador for the war against malnutrition.

***shakes head***

Please leave the old woman alone for crying out loud!

Now, as we get back to normal programming (in terms of news) have you watched the news lately? It’s so depressing trying to compare our two bob politics with the US election. Politician A said this about the Waki Report. Politician B said that about the dramatics within PNU/ODM. Bifwoli Wakoli (he of the “Awori is a ‘Tikiteta’ fame) declared for the umpteenth time his intention to run for President in 2012. (Is that a sick joke or what??)

That brings me to a comment that 3TOC made in my last post about good looking people (e.g. Obama & Lewis Hamilton) deserving to be winners coz they’re easier on the eyes and people are more willing to listen to them. Do you think this is true? Supposing Cousin Barack looked like Bifwoli Wakoli, but retained his own wit, charisma and charm, do you think he’d have stood a chance of becoming US President? I highly doubt it.

Where was I going with this post? Oh…right. Found my bearings. Don’t you think it’s interesting how some stories make news for a while, the media create a huge hullabaloo about them, then they just fizzle out and evaporate? Think about it for a minute.

a) Fazul Abdullah: a few months ago it was Fazul Fazul Fazul mchana hadi usiku. Look under your mattress and call the cops if you spot Fazul! Report Fazul and win $5million! Fazul evades police ambush…twice! Then, that story just died. Where the hell is Fazul? Is he still within Kenyan territory constructing bombs for future terrorist attacks? Surely, how hard can it be to track down one man with faulty kidneys when the only dialysis machine that exists at the coast is in one hospital?

b) Felicien Kabuga: so, one of the most wanted suspects in relation to the 1994 Rwandan genocide is in Kenya. It is no secret that he has been here for a while and that he’s being protected by some very powerful individuals. Some months ago, the cops were pursuing some leads that made us believe that Kabuga’s capture was imminent. They froze a couple of his bank accounts and some of his commercial real estate properties. (why didn’t they do that before?) Just when we thought the cops were getting serious, that story died right there. So where exactly is Kabuga? Do the authorities only tisha him when he defaults on his protection payments?

c) Ferries: according to yesterday’s Daily Nation, over 180,000 passengers board the ferries daily to cross the Likoni Channel. How many incidents have we had recently? Those things have stalled mid stream er…how many times? And what is being done about that? Which kubaff Minister is responsible and what is he doing about it? Oh wait, it’s Mwakwere. Right, that explains a lot.

d) Somali hijacking: Just a day after the Somali pirates hijacked a Ukrainian ship ferrying military equipment to Southern Sudan (via Mombasa) I was having a sip at a local pub, y’know, the ones where all the brilliant people with all the answers hang out. So this guy goes like

“Hao Waariah wamechizi! Haki! Hawajui wanacheza na nani! Unajua Navy yetu si ya mchezo!”

He went on to tell us that apparently, the annual GDP of our beloved republic is usually understated by up to Ksh 100 billion, the surplus which then goes towards purchasing state of the art military equipment. Apparently, the ageing jet fighters that we see flying over our skies on national holidays are just for show, to fool our enemies and that the Kenya Air Force actually owns a fleet of F16 fighter jets! Huwaat? (Modoathii, 2008)

Another idiot who claims that his father is a former head of NSIS (National Something Intelligence Something) claims that the Kenyan Navy actually owns a fleet of submarines. You know, those big black things full of seamen? (not THOSE ones!) like the ones that keep sinking in Russia. (Yes, THOSE ones!) Submarines?? Kenya?? Are you sure it’s not a big green boat emblazoned with “SUBMARINE” on the side? I’ll only believe it when I see one. Anyway, he said,

“Those Somalis!”

pausing to create suspense as he sipped on his Guinness

“nawapatia 48 hours! Watashangiliwa mbaya! Ndio utajua military yetu sio ya mchezo!”

Several weeks later, we are still waiting. Russian, American and French naval ships surrounded the hijacked MV Faina, the hijackers kept revising their ransom demands downwards and eventually threatened to blow up the ship if their demands were not met. The deadline came and went. Kenyan government officials kept issuing statements to the effect that the military cargo was indeed the property of the Kenyan military, despite evidence showing that they were headed to Southern Sudan. What exactly is going on with that ship? For how long will this crisis continue? Or did it end and I’m yet to know about it?

e) The Waki Report: that secret envelope has got a handful of Kenyans panicking and several others speculating. Now every unmarked envelope in Kenya is viewed as suspicious. No one knows exactly whose names are in that envelope, but have you watched them politicians run to their defence, calling the report “massively flawed” and defending themselves? Massively flawed in what aspect? Weren’t you the same idiots who gave the Waki Commission the mandate to investigate the cause of the post-election violence, which obviously includes finding out just who was responsible? So now that the report is out, they’re trying all that they can do to make sure that it never sees the light of day. Without consulting us, the electorate. If I had my way, all the suspects would be transferred to Guantanamo Bay and have high voltage electrodes teasing their essential bits before being presented at the Hague where they will undoubtedly sing like birds.

f) Nakumatt: (I had to go there) some say that the demolition of buildings and other structures along Thika Road, including my beloved supermarket, was merely a ploy by the government to divert attention from the Waki Report. If that didn’t work effectively, along came Cousin Barack to divert attention even more. What do you think? Apparently they want to expand Thika Road into a 10 lane highway. Only time will tell (if they get started in the first place)

In other news…

NTV’s The Weekly Show began with so much hype but rapidly went downhill shortly afterwards. The humour is so stale, Jasmine Mistri’s accent is immensely irritating (and she makes fun of Robert Nagila’s???) and the other sub-characters Kimeendero (Charles Kiarie) Jaswinder (Jasmine) and Jeri etc suck big time. It was moved from Monday 7:35pm to Saturday 9:30pm and now I see it on Mondays at midnight. (or is that the repeat?) Um…why don’t NTV just get rid of the show altogether? I mean, it’s the biggest pile of bullshit that graces our screens. (Cobra Squad comes close though)

Another question:

Why is the show called “Churchill Live” if it is recorded two days earlier?

Fokojembe of the day!

Take a look at this hindiot.

What’s on my Playlist?

Benny Benassi – California Dreams

The other day as I strolled leisurely strolled around campus, I spied from afar a familiar lanky fellow walking in my direction. WTF?? Nooo, it can’t be! As he came closer and closer, my worst fears were confirmed. It was indeed Obadiah.

See, Obadiah and I go way back to my days in South Africa. Said imbecile was in my uni and we lived in the same building for a year. He dated a close friend of mine. But Obadiah was (and probably still is) an elephant’s anus. He was immensely petty, irritating and overly opinionated about everything. None of the Kenyans liked him but we had to tolerate his presence coz we all loved his girlfriend. She was an angel and totally lovable. It was said many times that if she were to dump him, that would be the end of his story. And I think he knew that since no one ever invited him for plans, he just tagged along with his girlfriend. And he did his best to be Mr Goody two shoes coz any hint of fishy activity would signal the end of his relationship.

We clashed several times over the years, and I was tempted to punch him several times but coz I didn’t want siasa mingi, I simply kept away from him.

Among the sityooopid things that he did include bitching on fellow boys whenever guys played an away match. He’s the type of guy who everyone shuts up when he walks into the room coz his big mouth was legendary.

I bought a PC in April 2006 and it cost me an arm and a leg. So obviously I was over-protective of it for the first few months after I bought it. Then in June 2006 I left for Johannesburg to spend the winter vacation with family. Upon my return, I was horrified to discover that some cretin had opened my CPU and stolen my IDE cables, DVD drive and my RAM chips and replaced them with older ones. Someone literally went shopping in my CPU! I launched an investigation and discovered that Obadiah had spent a lot of time on my PC unsupervised. (I left my room unlocked at my housemates request so they could watch movies and play music on my PC)

So I took the lift down to Obadiah’s flat and confronted him. I asked to see his PC (which was quite old and prone to the occasional breakdown) and best believe my parts were in his CPU. Well, he knows my short fuse is as legendary as his big mouth and I was surprised that he had the guts to do that! I practically ripped apart his CPU and took back my hardware, while he stood there smiling sheepishly saying “Ok, you got me. I just didn’t think you’d notice!”

Bastard.

During my final month in South Africa, while I was still trying to make up my mind as to whether I should return in 2007, I chose to end my lease coz I didn’t want to pay a full month’s rent since I was to get my air ticket just a few days into December. Without a place to stay for a few days, his girlfriend offered me her sofa on condition that I contributed towards the rent for the duration that I’d be there and pulled my weight around the house in terms of buying food and keeping the house clean. I’d put up all my stuff for sale and Obadiah wanted to buy my Panasonic hi-fi. We agreed on an amount, but also agreed that we would subtract the amount that I was to pay for rent from that amount and he’d give me the balance.

Just a few days later, Obadiah and I crossed paths over some petty issue or the other, and out of anger I told him that my staying in his flat didn’t give him the right to be an asshole and to order me around, after which he suggested that I should leave. I called up another pal and she let me stay at her place. I called Obadiah and informed him that I’d found a place to go, so I’d be coming round for my stuff and for the money that he owed me. Guess what happened when I got to his place, I found all my stuff, which I’d packed neatly the same morning, literally thrown out of the digz and strewn all over the corridor! WTF?!!! In addition, he tripled the rent that we’d agreed on and gave me a paltry R500 for a 2000W Panasonic 5 CD + MP3 + DVD changer that cost me over R2500 just months before!

I stayed at my other pal’s place for about five or so days before my ticket arrived, during which time I sold off my PC and other stuff that I couldn’t carry to Nairobi. On the morning of my departure, about 5am, the cab picked me up and we headed to the airport. I asked the cab driver to pass by my former building (where Obadiah lived) and I went in, took the lift up and rang his bell. Obadiah answered with

“What the fuck do you want?”

I grabbed him by the collar and head-butted him in the nose as hard as I could, and followed that up with a series of left and right hooks that clearly caught him off guard and left him no time to react. Then I turned around, got into the lift to Ground floor, got into the cab and proceeded to the airport.

I came to understand just how cold some Kenyans can be towards someone who we don’t like. I was very close to my housemate Q coz he used to date my best friend. And he was very close to Obadiah’s girlfriend. She used to come over to our flat really late in the night to hang out with him, and I used to keep them company for a while then I retired to bed. (up to now, Q’s the only person I know who sleeps later than I do) According to me, there was nothing untoward about their relationship and the late hours she used to spend at my flat coz I knew they were just friends. That was until one night when I heard some serious sauti za mapenzi from across the wall and only then did it hit me that she was cheating on Obadiah with Q!

How cool!

Eventually the whole Kenyan gang got to know about their clandestine affair, which went on for several months, but no one told Obadiah! The dude was in the dark the whole time. She couldn’t leave him even though she believed their relationship had broken down irretrievably, coz they were cohabiting and neither of them could afford to pay the rent and the utility bills solo.

Obadiah did eventually find out about the affair, but he was more horrified that everyone, including his so called friends, knew about it and no one told him. He dumped her (she had a job then, and could afford to pay the rent by herself) and the Kenyan gang quickly disowned him since he had outlived his usefulness. Everyone just left! Isolated, humiliated and frudstrated, he quit the university and transferred his credits…TO MY CURRENT UNIVERSITY!!!!!!!

WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK?????!!

Of all places he could transfer his diab to, he chose here? (What I’m more surprised at is that they gave him his transcripts and nyimad me mine, so I’ve had to start uni from scratch!) Now I have to see his ugly face every single day and try to be civil?

He probably has intentions of returning the beating that I gave him that warm morning in December 2006, but I’ll be ready. Si sasa tuko home ground? Bring it on, Obadiah, bring it on!!!

Photo of the day

Courtesy of one Xs, though I don’t have the link to the original photo.

Hard-ball tactics
Hard-ball tactics

What’s on my Playlist?

Smiley Faces – Gnarls Barkley

About a month and a half ago, four bloggers linked up for a night out. The suspects include 31337, Modo, CB and Archer. CB did a very detailed write up of the night. Yes I did fall asleep at Galileo but that’s coz the seats in the VIP lounge were oh so comfy! (what’s with Kenyans and those three letters V.I.P?) Not the leather seats, but the large, round woven ones with a huge cushion? I’ve got to get me a couple of those for my digz. We tried to Kimunya privatize one through the window but it couldn’t fit. Ah well, legit it will be then.

 

CB tried to Kimunya privatize my pinky, later she wanted to dish me up when I was asleep, Modo was on handbag duty (LOL!!) and kept running to and fro checking if drinks were flowing, while 31337…well, he was just being himself causing a tsunami under his feet when he does that helicopter ya mguu dance. It was a great night!

 

Midfield Engine leaves the Bridge

claude makelele

claude makelele

 

I was sad to see Chelsea’s 35 year old veteran midfielder and unsung hero Claude Makelele leave the club on a free transfer and join Paris St. Germain. I’d hoped that Big Phil Scolari would be able to squeeze at least one more season out of him before letting him retire after a testimonial match.

 

 


Makelele unveiled by PSG

Makelele unveiled by PSG

Makelele alias Maka was my second favourite player in the squad after Frank Lampard. There’s so much to say about arguably the best holding midfielder in recent history (he even had that specific role named after him) but you can read more about him here.

 

 

Along with Makelele, Chelsea have also gotten rid of a few players who have been deemed surplus to requirements i.e. Steve Sidwell (why the hell was he signed in the first place?) Khalid Boulahrouz and Hernan Crespo (released from contract) A few others might be on their way out i.e. Shaun Wright-Philips (to Portsmouth – please go!), Tal Ben Haim (to wherever!) and Frank Lampard (to Inter)– although I have to admit that Lamps is not thinking straight. If a former world and European Player of the Year Ronaldinho was offered a 3 year contract by AC  Milan and he’s 28, just which idiot would sign a 30 year old player on a 5 year, 150,000 pound per week deal? Kuwa serious!

 

And of course there’s that wanker Didier Drogba. I hate this idiot. Really, I do. He may be the best of our useless strikers, but he ought to go. After severally announcing his intention to leave Stamford Bridge over the last two seasons, he hoped that some top European team (AC Milan) would come calling (but they didn’t, shock on your ass!) he said he’d take ten days to decide whether he’d stay or leave. Ten days came and went, and there was still no word. If you’re going, please go. Coz I’m tired of his nonsense and if I were Scolari, I’d allocate him to ground staff where hopefully he’d get his gelled hair tangled up in the lawnmower blades and eventually behead himself. Wishful thinking, wishful thinking.

 

Scolari ought to get rid of ALL the strikers with the exception of super-sub Salomon Kalou. Andriy Shevchenko, Claudio Pizarro and Nicolas Anelka are the biggest bunch of losers in world football and couldn’t even score 15 goals between them all season. Scolari ought to hijack David Villa from Valencia as well as Robinho from Real Madrid. Word has it that Samuel Eto’o is unsettled at Barca and is desperate for a move. If we sign these players, only then do I see Chelsea being capable of fighting for major honours this season. Our only competition is from Man United, and if they sign Berbatov from Tottenham Hotspur, we may as well let them keep the Premiership and the Champions League trophies for another season.

 

This season I’d like to see one or two young players from the youth team make it into the first team. Already there’s 19 year old Argentine (with Italian papers) striker Franco di Santo who seems ready to give the first team strikers a run for their money after his impressive debut for the first team during the current pre-season matches in China.

 

Raila Odinga’s goatee

 

Has anyone else noticed that Agwambo’s goatee has been shrinking over the years? Now it’s disappeared completely!!

 

Insult of the week

I mentioned before that Ms. Dildo is a bit on the big side. OK who am I kidding, she’s very much on the big side. One of the boys from upstairs came to my digz one day and found her there, and that started a lot of underhand jokes whenever I went upstairs to chill with them. But this one took the cake.

 

I’m sure that shagging her must be like driving an Actros bila power steering!

 

OUCH!!

 

(For those of you who don’t know what an Actros is, eh…it’s a Prime Mover!)

 

The second one added

 

Enyewe Archer vile unapenda ma Actros, unafaa kuitwa Bayusuf!

 

DOUBLE OUCH!!!

 

(If you didn’t get that one, you cannot be helped)

 

FOKOJEMBE OF THE WEEK!!

Chirau Ali Mwakwere

So, in between soliciting for chips funga on Koinange Street at dubious hours of the night, being annointed a Mijikenda elder and chanting his party slogan “Kamata kamata zipapa” (or something like that), does  the “honourable” Minister for Transport, Chirau Ali Mwakwere, find any time to get any of his ministerial duties done?? Surely, even after COTU boss Francis Atwoli publicly asked Baba Jimmy to replace him with someone more efficient (super Minister John Michuki) during the Labour Day celebrations (much to the crowd’s pleasure) shouldn’t Mwakwere be trying hard to show that he’s not as lazy as we all know think he is? The transport system is in shambles and there’s been no sign of action from him. This man is the epitome of gross incompetence.

 

 

MWAKWERE WACHA UZEMBE….FANYA KAZI BWANA!!

Sidebar: did you know that Mwakwere has a blog? Seriously, he does!

 

What’s on my Playlist?

Crush on you – Hidden Beach Records

There are some tabias that I just don’t understand. Really. My ex and I have been working on whether we should attempt a reunion (we broke up 3 years ago) but that’s a story for another day, if I feel inspired to write it. Back in the day she always had this funny tabia of showing up for dates (including those intended to be very private and intimate) with escorts! Yaani friends.

I remember our anniversary back in early 2005, I had it all planned out. We’d spend some time indoors, I had an expensive bottle of wine that I’d bought in South Africa, including an expensive watch (which found its way to the bottom of Lake somewhere after we broke up) After that we’d go for a movie and nice cosy dinner in the evening abefore I dropped her home. But she showed up at my digz with three friends! WTF??? That totally messed up my plans. Which idiot does that?

But last weekend’s events took this shyte to a whole ‘nother refo (level)

Friday evening about 6:30pm I was in the library (yes I’m focused like that!) when she called.

Her: Sema, where you at?

Arch: Library.

Her: well, I’m somewhere in your vicinity, what time are you going digz?

Arch: I’m almost done, so I’ll be leaving in kedo thate minutes.

Her: sawa, I’ll meet you at your digz in 40 min.

Arch: Great. See you then.

So I packed up my books and left the library, but somewhere along the way I got derailed by a pal to have one-two Tanyes at the local to usher in the weekend. I thought we’d be there for just a few minutes, but I wasn’t really worried about keeping her waiting considering the fact that my ex has got to be the worst time-keeper in the entire universe! She’s worse than me! If she says she’ll be there in 40 minutes, just double that time to be on the safe side. So there we were happily sipping on our Tuskers when she called again. Said she was approaching my digz so I should hurry up.

“What beats having a nice cold beer and assured strokes?” I thought to myself.

….then she mentioned that she was with a couple of friends.

Arch: “What? Why? How many pals?”

Her: “Just a few. Relax, we’re just passing by!”

Now what is this? She still pulls those stupid stunts? Then she’ll have to wait till I’m done with my beers. So I kept her waiting for a few more minutes. Then I got a phone call from my neighbour.

Neighbour: Archer, there are EIGHT women in my house! Can you come and get them out!

Arch: What do you mean eight women? And what are they doing in your house?

Neighbour: Si this mama of yours has kujad with her entourage! Come sort out your shit in a rush!

EIGHT WOMEN?? Seriously, what on earth am I supposed to do with 8 chics? Considering that my digz can only accommodate three people at a time. Lemme give you the layout of my living room. It has a carpet and a one piece sofa, yaani ya mtu mmoja. Fullstop. If I throw in the plastic chair from my study table, which means about three people can fit in my living room. Now with 8 women, how on earth was I supposed to handle all that?

So I dragged my pal (and his pal) and decided to see what we could do about the situation. We got home to find all eight of them women dressed up for the weekend. We watched as they fought for the sofa and the plastic chair. How four of them managed to ensconce themselves on the sofa, I still have no idea. But they did it and claimed to be comfortable, huku I’m slightly embarrassed that some of my (unwanted) visitors had to sit on the floor. But that was really stupid, coz she knows how small my flat is and she should have taken that into consideration before inviting her entire battalion along.

Besides, my digz is MY digz, not ours and definitely not yours. Who gave you the authority to bring your pals here?

So there they sat, looking around, giving me that look of “ok we’re here, so now?” I figured that if you guys were simply passing by, you’ve already accomplished that objective. Now kindly leave my house and go to where you were dressed up to go. Then the ex calls me sideways and asks if I would be kind enough to buy a bottle of something to start off the night.

FOR EIGHT WOMEN?! Are you nucking futs?!

My pals were already assessing the chics and strategizing over their chipsing agendas for the night. So they figured why not, let’s get some liquor! Only that I’m the only one who fronted the cash. I had to buy the liquor, plus feed them too before they got high too fast and puked all over my carpet. There was this one who really irritated me to the point where I wanted to slap her proper! She just kept on bitching about everything! She kept on scrolling through my MP3 player (that’s also masquerading as my home theatre entertainment system, and for those who love making fun of Pinky {I won’t name names, but Xs you know yourself!} here it is, only that it’s pink! I really don’t give a shit about what anyone calls it, it’s been called lip gloss, butt plug among many other insults but the fact is that it scored the highest rating (92%) of any Sony MP3 player in production at the time I bought it. (But no, I don’t say!)

Anyway, the ngamia kept scrolling through everything, asking stupid questions like

“Kwani this shit doesn’t have Weezy?”

Who the fuck is Weezy?

LIL WAYNE!!!

Do I look like the sort of idiot who would listen to Lil Payne or whatever shit he calls himself? Is he that incredibly ugly midget with many tattoos all over his face (probably to distract attention from his ugliness) and walks around with his trousers around his knees and mumbling incomprehensible stuff? If so, he’s one of three people whose voices make me want to take a massive dump right there and then. The other two are Kalonzo Musyoka and Robert Nagila. I think the three of them should do a collabo which I could use to smoothen things along just in case I should suffer from constipation.

Lil Wayne: wringywringydraaaaaaaaawlsuckonmylaaawlipop

Kalonzo: WIPER!! National healing!

Nagila: It awwnly remaaayns to be seeeiyn whether Keeeeymoooonya will rezoooooign

Kalonzo: WIPER!! I speak prophetically!

Lil Shit: Shut up b*tch…swallow!

Anyway, a couple of hours later, my pals had to leave (after they decided against chipsing any of them women) and so did a few of the girls. Good. But that still left me with the ex and three of the others. Huku I’m thinking, I have a CAT in the morning and a couple of research assignments due the very next morning. We drank until midnight until I could no longer hint to them that they ought to leave my house, and I asked them straight up to finish up and bounce. I was already under the influence so I figured I might as well bench any ideas I had of studying for my paper and finishing up my research assignments. So if the ex could get rid of the remaining two women, we could move on to other things, those of the horizontal agenda. But no! She decided that they would all leave together!

What? After wasting my money and more importantly my TIME, you suddenly decide that you’re going to leave? Seriously, in that state there was absolutely no way I could get any work done so she might as well sleep over and I’d wake up early to try and salvage whatever I could ahead of the paper. But she insisted that they were leaving, so they did! And boy was I seriously upset!!

After cleaning up my little house a few minutes later, my ex called and asked why I was upset, and I explained the whole situation and how they’d properly fucked up my night and that I was not amused. The least that she could have done is sleep over. We had a bit of a tiff then I hang up on her. She sent me a brief text shortly after saying

“I’m coming back so we can talk”

Hey, at least this whole night won’t amount to nothing! I’m a still get laid!

Then…….SHE SHOWED UP WITH HER PALS YET AGAIN!!!!!!!!

*******slaps forehead repeatedly with left hand while plucking chunks of hair out with right hand********

So why did you have to come back with them? For what? Surely, even you think sometimes! What have they come back for?

“They couldn’t get transport back to their place so we had to come back!”

So how exactly is that my problem? At least this time they returned with two bottles of liquor. This could have been viewed as a good thing, but given the fact that I really didn’t want them there, it wasn’t!

Since their transport plans had nashed, guess who had to organize sleeping arrangements for them as well!!!!! I had to wake up my neighbour and ask him whether they could crash in his spare room. And he wasn’t too pleased with me the next morning coz they took their dramatics there. I’ll spare you the details of what happened upstairs coz I couldn’t make out what he was saying in between “Fuck………Archer…..kumbafu……stupid women…..never again!”

The next morning, the neighbour whose flat they’d initially camped at also came hurling insults at me coz apparently one of them stole an expensive make up kit and she was not amused at all.

Then, the ex pulled some more stupid shyte on Saturday night as well!

Such mannerisms are part of the reasons that made us break up three years ago and I’d hoped that she eventually grew up and stopped doing this shit but evidently I was mistaken. Her chapter has been closed officially. Such a pity coz the strokes were quite on point, and she’s got the most amazingly perfect body that I’ve ever laid eyes on.

In other news…

Speaking of strokes, eh…Ms Dildo finally won….(ahem)…severally. I could only dodge her for so long and her persistence finally paid off. Only that she did turn out to be psycho, she almost attempted suicide a couple of weeks ago and generally pulled some schizo shit on my ass. So her chapter is closed as well! Two less clandes to worry about. I was beginning to feel a bit oversexed and honestly, I could do with a break sans the drama.

A.O.B

1. BMW’s new generation 2009 F-01 BMW 7 Series was launched last week in Moscow. Stay tuned for the review.

2. 80,000 hits and counting. Thank you readers!

3. I finally got bored of the black theme, so we’re back to the orinjino one.

What’s on my Playlist?

Estelle ft Kanye West – American Boy

 

What is it with Kenyan guys? I think we are really stuck up and up-tight (not in the literal sense) I think we are really homophobic. Yes, we are. The slightest hint of doing or suggesting anything to a Kenyan jamaa which may be perceived as making a pass at him is almost guaranteed to earn you a good right hook right in your eye, spectacles notwithstanding.

 

Why is it that there are some things that we can’t say to a fellow jamaa coz we’d be perceived to be gay? The average Kenyan guy would rarely compliment another guy, and if he had to, it’s have to be very, very general. Supposing you came across a dude, say a pal, wearing a very nice polo neck sweater, how would you compliment him?

 

My guy, si that sweater is timam? It really brings out your physique vizuri

 

The response would either be “er…thanks. Moving swiftly along…” accompanied by slow steps in any direction away from you. Or you’d receive that right hook.

 

Therefore, we guys take the easy way out and simply say

 

Nice sweater, Anto

 

Anto: Thanks.

 

 

I got a little flat just near my uni, thus saving me about 4 to 5 hours on the road and over 300 bob in cab and matatu fare daily. But that’s beside the point. So, most times when the weather allows, I simply jump into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and get going. After all, these legs from the wonderful western Kenya gene pool should be shared with all and sundry. One day, the weather wasn’t so convenient, so I wore jeans, Tims and a sweat-shirt. After class, I pitied by the local, and the first thing I heard from a male pal was:

 

Arch, it’s such a pleasure to see you fully clothed for once!

 

Almost everyone in the pub turned in our direction, those ones of “Eeeeeeeiiiiiiiish!!!! Alaaaaaaa?”

 

Kwani where did you see Archer not fully clothed?

 

So we had to go into a long explanation about the whole incident lest they concluded that we play for Arsenal otherwise.

 

 

Why is it that there are topics that you can’t bring up with other guys?

 

The other day at the supermarket, I was feeling kidogo adventurous, and at the toilet soap aisle, I picked about 6 or 7 bars of Fa toilet soap, all in different colours and er…flavours. Or fragrances. Whatever.

 

A few days later after using up the first two bars, I showered using the new Fa yogurt flavour (it’s cream, yellow or some colour lime that. Consult 3TOC) and I have to say that that was one of the best shower experiences I’ve had in a very long time. That ish smells so so good! Not nearly as good as the Ra.do.x aromatherapeutic shower gel, but it was good enough for a 29 bob soap. I emerged from the shower almost 30 minutes later, having sung the whole way through. Bliss.

 

Then I went upstairs to chill with the boys. So Archer and his intelligence decided to share the experience, only to be met by curiously raised eyebrows, comme ça

http://pages.matmice.com/home/the_rock_pictures/

 

 

Pal 1: Arch, that’s not stuff you should tell us, save that for your mamaa!!

 

Pal 2: Are you sure you weren’t lathering yourself up in other ways?

 

I did the same thing at the local the next day just to gauge the reaction of a few more of my male pals. Needless to say, they were identical.

 

 

There are so many other topics that you’d hardly ever find two guys discussing, all for the sake of maintaining a macho/tough guy image. Relationships for example. Would you tell your boy at the pub

 

Mazee I’m really in love with Jane, aki she makes me feel some joy in ways I’ve never felt before

 

No. Normally it’d be

 

I’m really feeling Jane, she’s a timam mamaa

 

End of story.

 

I’ve been hit on a number of times by gay men (both here in Nairobi and in South Africa, but that’s a story for another day) and while it’s very strange and immensely irritating the first couple of times, one actually gets used to it and can afford a smile the next time and say

 

Look here man, I’m straight. Vagina rules!!!

 

In such a case where your masculinity has been threatened for real, then I bet you’re allowed to react in whichever way necessary. But if you’re confident about your sexuality, then what’s there to worry about? Why would a Kenyan man be so quick to accuse you of being “guilty by association” just coz you have a couple of gay friends?

 

Come on guys, LOOSEN UP!!! Dare to be different today! Compliment another guy! In fact, let’s start right here! Jamaas, comment section is open. Loose the stuck-up-ness and compliment someone. In fact, let’s start with Xs, seeing that one Frank in Accra, Ghana has already opened the path.

  

Xs, hiyo shave ulipata juzi…..that goatee!!! I wouldn’t let you near any of my sisters if I had any!”

 

Photo of the Day

 

What’s on my Playlist?

Bob Sinclar feat. Fireball – What I want

 

Hello people, it’s been a while. (looking around, seeing if anything’s changed during my absence) actually it’s the first time since I started blogging that I haven’t put down a single entry for a month, much to the annoyance of quite a number of people. Contrary to speculation, I didn’t go into depression after Sunki’s death (although where I come from when a close family member passes on, you shave your heads and wail as loud as you can so that said loved one can hear you from the afterlife and know how much he’ll be missed. So I did the shaving part, not the wailing coz that’d have been straight up psycho) I’d done a few posts during April, but without access to decent computers and a proper internet connection, they were all overtaken by events hence rendered useless.

I’ve had a lot of issues going on in my life that I needed to sort out, a sh*tload of stress and frustration and I’ve never been one to handle stress well. I get extremely painful migraines, but I’ve abused painkillers severally in the past till now no sane doctor would write me a prescription for the particular pills that I need. I’ve also put on a few extra (unnecessary) kilos and my people are complaining! They say I should join a gym immediately. Not that I’m fat or anything, just that it’s now become very obvious what happens when one gains 14 kilos in 12 months. Extra flesh here and there, missing jaw-line and a hint of love handles.

So the other day I decided to go out and get active by playing basketball with my teenage cousin who’s in his high school team. I used to be good back in the day, almost made it to first team until a serious knee condition forced me to retire prematurely. So there I was, trying to re-live the good old days (haven’t even touched a basketball since my er…retirement) dribbled kidogo kidogo then lil man challenged me to a game 21. Let’s just say that I’d be better off on the sidelines making noise with the rest of the cheering squad. Lil man slam-dunked right over my head, you remember that move we used to call “in-your-face” back in the day? Eeeeeee! Alinifanyia hiyo pia!

My doctor’s words back then was “stick to horizontal sports!” hence pool and sex) coz I can’t swim either – you wouldn’t catch me next to any water body larger than a bathtub)

Speaking of sex, Ms. Dildo is still on my case. I don’t think I’ve ever been pursued by any woman as diligently as she has mpaka I’m feeling guilty for not having screwed her already. Thing is, I’ve lost all interest in women. For real! That’s what stress does. If you showed me a naked woman, I’d probably turn the other way and read a book. Hence my card carrying membership of the BT.

I got myself a little flat this week, and Ms Dildo called me and I happened to mention as a “by the way” that I’d got a digz. She was like “that’s so cool, coz I’m looking for a flat around the same place so we’ll be neighbours!”

Ati what?

“Then I could be coming over to hang out, we’d spoon all afternoon, we’d bake cakes and pies, and I’ll even help you decorate your house!”

Say what?

The last thing I need right now is a recurrence of this incident, so I’m even contemplating going to pick up my deposit for the flat and looking for one elsewhere lest she takes over my life completely, starts naming “our four kids” before we’ve even had sex! What to do?

What else is new? I got to find out that I can’t stand kids! I always thought it’s just them kids who don’t like me, but after spending these last few weeks with a 4 year old chap with an ego as big as Mt. Kilimanjaro, I also did some reflecting and found out why I can’t stand them. The results have been nothing short of disastrous. Said 4 year old is the mayai ya nyumba and what HE says is law, otherwise he breaks into loud wails which attract the attention of his mother who quickly ensures that mayai has his way. If he decides to insert “Cartoon Collection #4 – Winnie the Pooh Special” into the DVD player while Kibaki is announcing his 40 thieves cabinet, let him have his way. If said mayai demands for my MP3 player while it’s plugged into my ears, let him have it. If said mayai decides to switch off the Playstation 2 while his older brother and I are playing FIFA 07 and I (miraculously) have a two goal lead (miraculous coz the 16 year old regularly hammers me 5:0 easily) so that he can play Midnight Club…so be it. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to slap this three-foot high fellow. The other day, after a brief “difference of opinion” he told me, in as many words, what loosely translated into “go stuff it up where the sun don’t shine!”

That’s it! I had had it with him. I locked the door, kunjad my sleeves, put spectacles kando and got hold of a good Bata slipper, ready to smack some discipline into the boy…when his mother appeared home from work just in the nick of time. I put down the slipper and watched him grin, probably saying to himself “Uta-do?”

Una bahati tu, next time you shan’t be so lucky!

Actually, the only thing that we have in common is that we both love John Legend’s “Save a little” track. Whenever he sees me with my MP3 player, he asks “Put that song for Paaa-ya-paa-paa” so we’ll listen and sing along, but immediately after that, the mutual resentment resumes.

I’ve tried everything. Patience, which unfortunately the good Lord up above did not equip me with enough of, an oversight on his part. I’ve tried bribery, with chocolate, smarties, cookies from Paul’s Cookieman’s, toffees, chewing gum etc but wapi! Dialogue with a 4 year old is useless. Everyone in the house agrees that they have never seen any two people who are as as incompatible as mayai and me. Just what exactly does a 4-year-old want? Someone please tell me! Perhaps it’s a hint that I shouldn’t ever have kids?

So what have I missed out on in the last 5 or 6 weeks? Fill me in!

Photo of the day

Whose face do you see? Jose Mourinho or Avram Grant?

Mourinho vs Grant

What’s on my Playlist?

Aheri – Kayamba Afrika

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