July 2010



It all started with a less than innocent cursory glance in her direction. Unfortunately the glance was intercepted by the one person you don’t want busting you staring ovyo ovyo at other asses – the main S.O. Who in this case was this kubaff. The ass owner in question was her room-mate in campo.

Gentlemen, ladies are smarter than you think. They observe your habits. Your girl can tell when you’re visually digesting another girl’s goodies (or supporting accessories), whether it just happened to be the ass in front of you and you couldn’t help but look, or if you want to chwado something. If your woman knows you well enough, she also knows your taste in women, so she knows if and when her position as your number one is under threat.

So ladies, let your man look. Coz you know he will. We’re wired that way. Coz (I regret the repercussions of what I’m about to say) women are like cars. You may have what you think is the best car on the road until a better one passes by. A dude may have a BMW M3, but will get whiplash when a Ferrari passes by. But he’s better off with the BMW M3 coz it’s more practical, it’s better value for money and perhaps offers a better all round driving experience than the Ferrari.

Anyway, that glance at the ex’s room-mate began a conversation.

Ex: You want to hit it, don’t you?

Me: Who, me? I wasn’t even looking! I swear! *sheepish smile*

Ex: *frowns* yeah right. Don’t be fresh with me, Arch. I know that look.

Me: *sips on beer*

Ex: She has a nice ass, ama?

Me: Understatement of the year. She has a great ass.

Ex: Better than mine?

Me: You know yours will always be my favourite ass.

I’d been away in SA for close to a year, and I knew that things had been rather dry on both ends. So I asked her jokingly whether she’d ever harboured intentions of making out with her room-mate.

Ex: Promise me you won’t be mad?

Me: I won’t be mad, babes. So tell me.

Ex: Of course I have. We make out all the time!

My eyes almost popped out, more out of salivating over the thought of the two of them making out frantically, tongues everywhere, nini nini… In the course of the conversation, I asked whether she’d be cool with me watching them have a make-out session. I mean, it was the least she could do after openly confessing to infidelity! She thought about it for a while, and seeing that I was clearly excited at the idea, she agreed and promised to talk to her pal about it. By the end of the night, the room-mate had agreed. A date was set, venue arranged and all that. Well in!

The ex and the room-mate (let’s call her Candy) came over to my place on Tuesday afternoon the following week. We hang out for a while and chatted over some red wine, setting the mood with the baby making music playlist gently playing in the background, before hints were dropped that we should get this show on the road. The girls got onto the bed and ordered me to sit in the corner and keep my hands to myself. At first they were shy, caressing each other and kissing gently. Slowly they got comfortable and really got into it. Clothes slowly came off, hands started doing the yellow pages, all the while throwing glances at yours truly, who was doing what one Milo calls “nursing a massive boner”.

After about half an hour of torture, they decided to relieve me of my suffering and beckoned for me to join in the fun.

I shall spare you the rest of the details, yes?

That’s where the politics of the lungula began. In my overexcitement to devour Candy, I kinda neglected the ex and she obviously wasn’t very amused about that. That’s when she began to formulate rules on the spot.

No snogging! No going down on her! No doing her in my favourite position! That’s reserved for me!

Ai yawa! Tera moss nyako.

I hadn’t realized threesomes actually have rules. A threesome is usually just a two-some plus one. Someone’s bound to lose out on the attention, and in this case it was the ex who had been relegated to playing the role of supporting actress. See, Candy’s was new ass, I see the ex’s every other day so there was that excitement and curiosity about new unexplored territory.

That threesome was the beginning of the end of that relationship. Insecurity crept in on the part of the ex. She barred Candy and I from exchanging cell numbers. She became increasingly paranoid and that also drove a wedge between her and Candy. It doesn’t help that Candy and I had a return match after the break-up.

The bottom line is that threesomes are overrated! They’re one of those things that men (and women) fantasize about all the time, but once it’s done, you’re left to wonder whether the drama that ensues afterwards is worth it. Pleasing one woman is hard enough, try two! It’s an exhausting experience, Red Bull or no Red Bull. You’ll be sore for a week!

Would I ever have another threesome? Probably not. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t.

So here are the rules of a threesome:

1. Never have a threesome with the S.O and her pal. It’s best to have it with two chics who have no connection whatsoever.

2. If you are foolish enough to have a threesome with the S.O. and a third party, always cater fully to number one. Make sure she’s fully satisfied and don’t let her feel left out, neglected or that you enjoyed tapping the plus one’s ass more than hers.

3. SAFETY! Have rubber. Plenty of rubber. And wet wipes. You have to be careful in this age of STDs. Don’t become a statistic coz the fun isn’t worth the repercussions.

*(Image borrowed from http://www.jlcauvin.com)

What’s on my Playlist?

Mariah Carey – Just be good to me (SOS Band remix)


Hi kiddo,

It’s me. I mean, you. From the future. Waaaaay into the future. Haven’t you always wished that you could have a sneak peek into the future and know what lies ahead for you? Well, that’s why I’m here. So sit down and take notes.

You’re going to high school in the next year. Actually, you’ll make it into the top national school in Kenya without breaking a sweat. But just coz you’re a nerd doesn’t mean you don’t have to study. Put in a bit more effort in high school, and you won’t have to do 3 years work in Form 4.

Girls are bad news, kiddo. Bad bad bad news! You will have your heart broken more times than you’ll remember. Kwanza this corrupt politician’s daughter you’ve been buying chocolate for lately will be the first. She’ll eat them up and throw you into the bin along with the wrappers. Don’t take girls too seriously. Being Mr. Nice Guy won’t get you anywhere with the ladies. It pays to be an arrogant bastard sometimes so toughen up! (for some weird reason which I fail to understand even today, girls are more attracted to bad boy types. Then they come crying to me after they’ve been thumped senseless. Girls are daft and confused. Don’t try to understand them!)

Your short temper will get you into lots of problems in future. You better get it in check as soon as you can.

Be good to mum. She’s all you have, and only when you get to my age will you realize the number of sacrifices that she’s made to give you the best life that you can have. When you get older, you’ll do crazy shit like pierce your ears, relax your hair. Actually you’ll do cornrows and grow dreadz as well. You’ll also skive the Benz and crash it into a ditch in the middle of the night. Avoid that incident. Particularly THAT incident. Coz she’ll beat you half to death with a frying pan and a stool. Appreciate her once in a while. Buy her a Celine Dion CD and she’ll love you a little more.

I know you think you’ll graduate at 22 and conquer the world. I’ve got bad news for you. You’ll be in your late 20s doing your 4th degree! Good thing about that is you’ll know a little more about most things than most guys. Coz you’re smart like that. And that’ll open many doors for you later. Kutangulia sio kufika.

Learn to play the guitar. It’ll get you more ladies than that silly piano. You’ll learn that the hard way from kid bro.

Learn not to keep grudges and be so vengeful. People will always fuck you over in life. It’s human nature. But nothing is ever that serious. Fura for a day or two and move on.

Be close to Joel & Tony. They’ll commit suicide at 21 and 20, and you’ll ask yourself for years to come if there was anything that you should have done differently. There is. Be there for them now. You’ll also lose other friends along the way (and your brother his girlfriend) so treasure the ones you have and live life to the fullest.

I guess that’s it. Everything that you do, do it to the best of your ability. Live, love, laugh a little. Hio tu.

AOB – Maneno ya Cess Mutungi

(Disclaimer: I have not been paid to write this!)

I’ve always been a big fan of Cess (personal issues aside) from way back when she used to host the morning show at Hot 96 with Ngatia. The two were a riot! Now she’s back hosting the afternoon show with Maqbul at Capital FM. These two have a sense of humour that’s so unique, how they’re able to think up the weirdest sh*t on their toes is amazing, in addition to more hilarious stuff like Cess doing the traffic report in Kao and throwing a bitchfit for Maqbul in a Naija accent.

Three weeks ago at Shamba ya Sandip (my former workplace) everyone’s so serious, trying to get some work done. I had my noise blocking earphones on listening to some DunguDungu (and ignoring the GM’s kelele mingi) Cess called up a guy who won 10k in some competition.

Cess: So, what do you do with yourself?

Caller: I am a tisha!

Cess: Really, mwarimo! So what do you teach, Mwalimu?

Caller: Akshuare I teash Chemistry, Mathematics, Woodwaka and sometimes Music.

Cess: So you’re the full metamorphic rocks dem a morph?

Caller: Ati?

Cess: Never mind.

After I picked myself up from the floor, (yes I fell over backwards laughing) I had a really hard time trying to explain the metamorphic rocks dem a morph joke to my workmates. They just didn’t get it. And I won’t try to explain it here coz you probably won’t get it either. (It’s a Fanta ad) Just bloody tune in to the Jam every weekday and you’ll get a massive dose of random madness and crazy humour. In my opinion, this is the best show on radio, with the wittiest, craziest pair on radio, and the only way to keep a smile on your face when stuck in traffic.

Now if only Cess would get onto Twitter! Wewe! Style up madam, this is the 21st Century!

What’s on my Playlist?

Chris Cornell – Scream