Over the last three or so weeks, I’ve been under a lot of stress due to mingi issues going on that I’m trying to sort out. As a result, I’ve noticed (rather, it has been brought to my attention) that I’ve become very easily irritable and prone to temperamental outbursts.
Perhaps it’s the PMS, hormones gone haywire.
So here are a few things that have really irritated me over the recent past.
One afternoon I was in a matatu when this Somali woman boarded with a 4 or 5 year old boy. She sat in the driver’s cabin while she left the boy in the back. She was chewing sugarcane quite loudly (mouth agape) and spitting the chewed cane ACROSS the other passenger and out of the window! WTF?!
The little boy was really sweating, obviously dehydrated but she couldn’t care less. It took another lady passenger to undo the buttons on his shirt, open the window, wipe the sweat off his forehead and offer him a bottle of water. While the woman sat chewing cane and spitting out the window. So shameless!
A passenger who was seated next to me had an altercation with the kange over the fare, and saw it fit to pull me into the affray. Here I was minding my own business, earphones plugged in, Outkast on maximum volume, and this fellow keeps tapping me and explaining his story. So that I do what? Shuka utembee, alaa?!
Another afternoon, I boarded a mat and sat at the first row next to the door (it was the only available seat) forgetting that there was the kange. So this chap somehow ensconced himself in that little space, with my face trapped under his armpit, and his nethers/artillery/makendes/ rubbing against my thigh. I couldn’t tell which of the two was worse. And that was only the beginning. Remember it was a hot afternoon. For some reason, the passengers declined to open the windows, and here was my face trapped under his armpit!
If that wasn’t enough, we got into a slight accident near Globe Cinema roundabout, the mat driver was trying to force his way into a lane, in the process he clipped a pick up. The pick up had scratched the side of the mat until they came to rest, still attached, but with the pick up having blocked the sliding door, therefore we couldn’t get out. Both drivers got into an argument about who was liable, they decided to wait for traffic police to arrive
So, was I supposed to sit there, armpit in my face, kange’s makendes on my thigh, frying in that heat, door can’t open, as we wait for the bloody traffic police to arrive?
(eventually we got out through the window. Don’t ask how)
What is it with cyber café operators? Why do they have to be really nosy? Sometimes you may be in a cyber trying to print or photocopy some highly classified document, and you find the fala really reading through your printout. WTF?
There’s this fokojembe who runs a cyber just next to my campus, let’s call him Musau. Musau has got to be one of the dimmest individuals I’ve ever met. I needed to photocopy a confidential document, so I had the page already folded out and facing downward, ready for insertion into the photocopier, my hands already positioned at the tray to collect the copies. Instead of putting the paper into the copier, the chap turns it over so as to read it. WTF?! I asked him whether it was the content that was important or the dimensions of the paper. Si A4 ni A4?
The very first time I walked into Musau’s cyber, I asked him if his computers had Firefox, he gave me a blank look of “Faya oooo?” (Fire who?) Jeez! And you run a cyber? After explaining what Firefox is, he said that they deliberately do not have it coz “there is no demand from students.” So I downloaded Firefox onto my flashdisk and every time I use a computer at the cyber, I have to install it before use. (Then Musau comes in afterwards and removes the application)
Another time, I was on the net and my MP3 player battery went dead. I asked Musau if he had a SONY USB cable BY ANY CHANCE. His reply?
“If you come with yours, then I can charge for you.”
Am I the only one who sees the stupidity of his response?
What is it with clients in cybercafes who stand right behind you, staring into your screen as you do your stuff? I mean, do you mind? Where’s the privacy? I usually have multiple windows open, I could be chatting with 5 people on Gmail, checking my email, updating my blog…stuff that I wouldn’t want any Tom, Dick or Harriet to sneak up on me while I’m busy.
OK so by now you know about Ms Dildo, right. We became pals (sort of) after that day, flirting mdogo mdogo (innocently) and I figured it’s be just that. I’m not attracted to her in that sense (she’s not my type, but still do-able) so I wasn’t hoping to jump off the B Train at her station. She, on the other hand has been throwing loose hints that she needs to get slayed, but I acted the fool and ignored those hints, hoping that a more attractive solution would present itself soon. That was until one day some weeks ago, chic looked me in the eye and told me straight up, uncensored
Arch, I want your d***! Are you going to give it to me or will you keep pussyfooting?
What other motivation does the Commander in Chief need to rise to the occasion?
Well, I didn’t do the needful on that particular day, but I was warming up to the idea. Sometimes it pays to take one for the team. But I found out later that she’s “having a thing” with one of the huuugest chaps on campus, you know those rugby toughened and hardened fellows with a missing tooth? And vile she’s got a big mouth…I wouldn’t go that far to score a free shag.
This comment was posted on my previous post by one “Curious One” .
Hi all. You are all invited to a gay bonfire bash at the Tetemesha club near Palacina in Hurlingham. For tickets please get as at firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks
The bash is on the 28th of march from 8pm
Interesting that someone should choose to advertise freely on my blog for a gay event. So who’s down for a loose gay bon(e)fire bash? Anyone? Surely, there must be at least one person! ANYONE?! Sorry pal.
FOKOJEMBE OF THE WEEK
Photo obtained from here
(I guess it’ s quite obvious by now that I’ve never, and will never be a fan of Didier Drogba, despite being a True Blue)
Ok, you scored two goals against Arsenal on Sunday That’s what you’re paid to do, quite handsomely in fact. 130,000 pounds a week is no petty cash. (what else of significance have you done since your return from Ghana? Useless twat)
But “Top Drog” definitely takes the award for vanity. This fokojembe actually goes to the Chelsea megastore at Stamford Bridge and buys out their entire stock of “Drogba 11” jerseys, so as to prove that he’s as popular as best sellers John Terry and Frank Lampard.
Dude, just how dense can you be?
What’s on my Playlist?
Track 4 – Unknown Artist