I Used To Be Smart...

2 hours to BHH!

2011-05-26T17:36:00.001+03:00

So here it the moment we've all been waiting for. Sorry lemme rephrase. That moment I've been waiting for. Losing that BHH virginity.

Can't say much though but I get nervous around new people. True story. Those who know me will disagree but that's it. Plus I made a solemn promise 30 days ago to Solomon King and Normzo to show my face today...which I plan to honour.

So I've dragged along Carsozy who like me hasn't blogged in ages (he worse, he's forgotten the name of his blog), to give me a softer landing

I know I'm not meeting cannibals but hey, wish me luck!

Posts After Smoking A Joint: Illusions Of Happiness

2011-02-08T15:17:00.003+03:00

Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming, don't care its going to end in a certain way or are too rigid to depart from their routine.

That's kinda my story for my prolonged absence here but this is not the right time to go there...I'll engage you in something else.

I badly want to believe that sanity is just an illusion to make those who are boring feel better about not being interesting. Errrrm sorry, but I prefer insanity.

Lately, I've been feeling funny. I've been having a bad feeling that lately makes my heart hurt but only just a little. My head aches too like it usually does. I've had this bad feeling before. I felt this same way when I was depressed for a big part of all those years gone by.

I've only been honestly happy for just a little more than 4 years now so I'm not ready to go back yet. There's still so much I have to do and so many things I have to try so I can't go back. It's hard though. I can feel it dragging me back into that imaginary place. Maybe it's missed me since I've been gone. It's falling apart and that's why it wants me back; maybe.

Because I once lived in a town. That's the kind of place I lived in. There used to be an imaginary town mixed right in with the real world and it all blended together. I used to live in a town where I could see everyone from a movie screen and my breath was the only thing that was consistent.

The town was black and white with small shades of grey and everyone's voices were always so far away because I was the only one with a permanent residence. I didn't love it there but that's precisely where I used to live.

I'm not ready to go back, not yet at least. I don't think I ever will be either but do I really have a choice? I'm not good at making these kinds of decisions. It's making me sick and smiling can be tiring too.

It was fun while it lasted. Is that really something I should say? I mean, it's not like I'm back in that town yet, right? Is it not like that yet? Feels like I have something trying to climb back on my shoulders after falling off.

Perhaps it’s my nerves acting up. After all, I haven't been getting much sleep. Maybe I need to get back on my medications for a while. I wonder if there's anything wrong with that.

PS: Don't try to understand this post because you wont

The One About Blondes

2010-10-18T09:32:00.001+03:00

Your Prodigal Son

2010-10-12T11:52:00.000+03:00

This is supposed to be my lame attempt to reviving my glory days as a blogger but hey, I'm not going to waste time explaining myself. But still we'll talk 'me' and my twisted relationship with Hypnos, the god of sleep.
See I suffer severe insomnia, so much I've joined the legendary Insomniacs UNITE! But what is insomnia?

Insomnia according The International Dictionary of Excuses a compilation by yours truly, is "payment for napping in the day". Payment with interest as Sophocles' Creon would say in Antigone. Less than forty minutes after lunch and for the entire night I haven't even blinked, eh! I'll never do it again!

That's what I always say but the drowsiness that comes with the afternoon heat... What if sleep was in our control? We'd reckon it whenever we wanted it and send it away when we didn't. Insomnia and Sleeping sickness would never have been. But placing sleep in the hands of 'a potentially lazy man' would only make him more unproductive.

If sleep was for sale though, lazy people would be the most hardworking. They'd work day and night to buy as much of it as they could. Government would levy a Sleep Tax-cut a few hours from the rich and give to the poor. Would the homeless accept the government's generosity?

They'd complain, "why do you give us all these hours of sleep yet you know we don't have where to spend them? Build us homes and we'll get our own sleep." And the government would be afraid to reply,"We give you sleep and you ask us for a place to spend it!"

So the government would build homeless people homes and their worst nightmare would be over. Nightmares, one of sleep's most scary creatures! If sleep was on sale, no one would buy the one with nightmares. It would probably be expired or made in China.

Customer: "Hey, you sold me sleep that was expired."

Sleep Merchant: "No way! It said best before 2012."

Customer: "The nightmares were so bad I peed on the bed."

If sleep was for sale, girls would probably say to boys, "send me some airtime and a few hours of sleep" That would be nice, wouldn't it? What about those who would buy sleep and hoard it? What about those who are broke?

Imagine somebody telling you, "Am so broke, I cant even afford to sleep." Then those that make noise when you're trying to sleep, you'd tell them "Hey, can't you see am trying to sleep. This sleep cost me a lot of money and I won't let you spoil it for me." And those very bold guys (and girls) who would ask "Will you sleep with me?" "No way. I wouldn't sleep with you if you owned the last minutes of sleep! Go get your own sleep" they'd be told off (sometimes). Then they'd go and buy, not alcohol to drown their sorrows, but sleep- to sleep away the pain.

The sun is out and I haven't slept! 'O sleep. Oh sweet sleep. Nature's gentle touch. How have I frightened thee That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down...' If it happened to Shakespeare, who am I? But what book was that...

PS: Please allow me back...your prodigal son.

Read Only If You Will Finish (sic)

2010-03-09T19:42:00.002+03:00

The epidemic that is blogger 'blogcks' seems to have spared a select few and I'm only saying this because I wasn't left out of the 'fun'. My brain is constipated but thanks to the inventor of shame and remorse I still come here, comment where I can, then try to compose something and while at it, look out of the window from where I admire the generous behind that was planted on the Multiplex lady and before I know it I want to display my God-given gluttony at lunch.

Well today I'm already done with lunch and the Multiplex lady has taken refuge from this melting sun under the huge umbrella from where I cant gawk at her. Doesn't mean I have my brains back yet, they must be vacationing themselves silly some where in the Caribbean sun, getting drunk on coloured cocktails and hurling obscenities at Puerto Rican babes in gomesis!

Hence this;

THE ONLY PROM RULE:

Enjoy dancing in the daylight heat, eat so little for once in your school life so as not to scare your date away, only IF you must, don't get a hard-on while dancing, and please make the most of the darkness and the walls. The walls especially: LEAVE THEM DIRTY!

UNWRITTEN RULE: Don't wipe your date's sweat with your palms...she will smell like the plate you used at lunch!! If you manage not to do that, then don't spoil all your good work by handing her her your dad's phone number if you don't have one. Posta still works and now they have express delivery so get smart.

RULE PENDING APPROVAL: Don't watch E! if you have a week left to prom. I will laugh at you and the rest of Uganda will think you hail from the north. I didn't even invent that stereotype, it is a general consensus in this country!

My brain. It cant be this bad, can it?

Let me ride on and see how far it will take this post.

I believe we guys never pay much attention to any blemish on our physicality until maybe when you are consistently teased about it. But still you smile about it before with the help of evil thinking, you tactfully turn your guns on that guy who has also been haranguing you about anything small yet he is blessed with a bean-shaped head and probably looks like he was a prop in Babylon 5. It is a mean strategy, that much I know but if you live in that world, your life is bound to get a lot messier than not if you choose not to employ evil!

So the jokes have been flowing of late about the size of these two rounded mounds of flesh that God gave me to sit with, take quinine injections and endure kiboko from teachers...what they universally call an arse these days.
See my 70s hangover mom is still obsessed with the Pepe Kale style of wearing trousers so much that it reduces her to near tears that I can’t wear trousers halfway up my chest. But you know what, I'm not going to blame almost senile her! While she grew up in an era where made-up Congolese men were idolized, I'm dreaming of ways to be as cool as Ozzie Osbourne minus the drugs.

Now to get this ancient trouser style going, you need a sizable chunk of arse which I'm not exactly blessed with and frankly don’t mind having. Actually I'm rather happy not to have, not with all these strange Kampala men offering to buy you a drink if you arent in the company of a lady while at the bar.

Its simple. You are a guy and your boxers don't slide down your arse unless tugged at, be happy. You don't want to lose the only virginity you have left.
I mean no offense to the menfolk with anthills on the backsides!
The rest of us meanwhile will be out there looking for women like her to mate with and give the future better arses where they don't have to endure taunts.

And I'm now gone. Off to bait my brains to return home before they contract a Caribbean STD!

Untitled

2010-02-08T09:55:00.005+03:00

I have no joy, I have no gladness.
The earth does not fill me.
Once a brave soul and pure heart,
Now raw scars,
From desperation of sorrows.
Memoirs of bright yesterdays
and haunting, tomorrows.

Seemingly so far gone, but yet so close.
Realities, the bad neighborhood conquers,
A clueless mind,
Are all that now remains,
Of pulsing hearts in frozen chests.
Of a mind that now lies slain.

Of a death imprisoned soul.
Sadness still clouds my face,
Lobes twinge,
Muscles flinch.
At the drop of a pin

Fear of letting go,
The lost song of the breeze
Of sorrows suffered in the world,
Many untold sorrows.
Forget that day, I try
But memories wont let me!

He Places Paragraphs In No Particular Order / Courting Controversy

2010-01-25T10:33:00.005+03:00

Imagine a world full of sterile herbivores.
No predators, no reproduction! Some are better at running, some are better at calculus, and some are better at gathering food. OK that sounds silly but wait a minute this brain is allowed to wander at times...at all times.
Like right now when it wants to murder all the living environmentalists.

Dearest environmental dimwits; you make me feel guilty about using tissue paper (for wiping nose). Why then do you guys who have sworn to protect mother nature still use the same tissue paper (for wiping God knows what) huh? Why not use spoons? They can be washed and re-used plus they scoop pretty well so I'm told.

I need a distraction, I need to find another way to make money. I need to drive a fast car. I need to start selling drugs to make ends meet. I need to get to Kisementi quick and suck the life out of Alex Ndawula, live on air after he apologizes for wasting his 'taxi-park' talents on radio. I need to drop a bomb on this city. I wish I was God!

Who else?
The engineers who work our roads are, in my opinion as useless to mankind as all the kids that are getting out of school with a welding degree(is there such a thing?!). Sorry kids but there is only so much pipe to weld. Maybe some of those sell out engineers can whip up something for you kids to glue together with metal. If not why don't all you welders weld us up some jail cells so we have a place to throw all the sellout Pro-Gay supporters. Because we all know that in the future, I mean I hope all the pigs that supported them will be punished; forced to drink gallons of elephant bile!
We need more babies to eat all the Matooke, maize and yams in this country.
Olara Otunnu needs a wife!!!
We need babies!!!

There you go. I cant disguise it any longer. It eats me inside but now you should know the what & the why. Plainly put I miss you 2009, if I was a musician you were my breakout year, my ticket to stardom, my ticket to drugs, groupies, VIP treatment, a fling with Liza Minnelli, a house on the Hawaiian coast and every thing in between.
This year it feels like I have to start building all over again; handpick one mud brick after the other, pick the finest wild grass and select the finest cow-dung from deep in Lira to replicate that haven that 09 offered me. A beautiful mud and wattle hut, the whiff of damp dung hanging in the air, waiting for me to leap in joy as my enemies fall off their lofty perches.
I think I just made a New Year's wish!

2010, are you listening? Be good to me!

You Just Dont Get It! Do You?

2009-12-27T13:55:00.004+03:00

For a better part of the past three years, you have absolutely failed albeit deliberately, to read between the lines. I wish there was a milder way to say this but we are just friends. Thats all we've ever been even though you insist that man and woman can never be just friends.
All those small things you keep dwelling on like when we've held hands for long spells, the weekend walks and the mandatory hugs, are just innocent gestures of our friendship. And that time you jumped me at Diane's farewell party, well it was you who was zonked not me. That should explain why you left with only one shoe!
You even promised that it would never happen again. Ever!

But of late you are back to your old self. Now you pretend to have seriously fallen in love with Chelsea. In your defence, you claim that Arsenal's games have become very boring to watch! I'm puzzled beyond measure by your resolve.

Still you haven't stopped at that.
You know how much I'm a lil' obsessed with Keri Hilson, dont you? Why else have you done the same hairstyle? I cant say I didn't stumble a bit when I saw you...actually I now happen to be just a little bit tempted to drift.
But no I wont. I refuse to be boxed into a corner.
Who said a man doesn't have a choice when it comes to choosing what he eats?

I appreciate the gifts, the free lunch, the airtime and that beautiful blue Marks & Spencer neck tie, I loved them all. But right now I'm running as far away from you as I can. You wont hear from me for the next four months for reasons you have tactfully ignored for the past three years.

Till we cross paths again I remain me.

PS: Assuming we are still friends, can I keep the topless pics? I've never complained about them.

I Still Remember That September Afternoon

2009-11-16T08:04:00.000+03:00

This is a story about that girl who corrupted my mind…but first, it was second term holidays and I was only 8. I hated taking those mandatory afternoon naps right after lunch and despite the best efforts of the maid, which included the occasional spanking, I just wouldn’t sleep.

That afternoon was like no other because even this episode Punky Brewster on UTV this time wasn’t as interesting as it had always been. So the search of a much kick led me to my best mate Daniel’s home. Unbeknown to me, he wasn’t home; his mom had whisked him away for coaching classes somewhere in Nakivubo.

That left me and his literature-mad sister who was twice my age as my last hope for salvation from the sickening state of ultimate boredom. I should have walked away in resignation but the devil in me drove me into asking her what she was so preoccupied with so intently that she couldn’t even look into my direction.
So I went closer but before I could bet really close, she reached under the couch she was sited in and from what seemed like a collection, handed me a copy of Spice magazine (remember them?) and told me to knock myself out!

I was only 8!
The magazine cover screamed sex. I still remember that Stella was the name of the cover girl. I still remember that not only because she was hot but also because she was the first bikini I hadn’t seen on TV.
Lingala was blaring from the radio. Papa Wemba I think it was.
Curiously, I read on from the cartoons, Dod Khimji, Pam’s Adventures and yes yes, Peter ‘Now a Pastor’ Ssemattimba’s piece on erotic zones.

All this time I kept on pestering her to loosely explain the what all this raunchy stuff meant and why I was seeing it for the first time there and not in the classroom (like I had no idea).
When she justly got fed up with all the probing, she put down the Spice she was reading, grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the back of the house under the jambula tree.
Once there, she looked around, then lifted up her dress with a mischievous smile pasted all over her face to reveal her white undies!
That was her explanation. Just like that.

I was only 8!
She then marched into the house without saying a word.
I stayed rooted to the spot, bewildered. At the same time it felt like my crowning moment, my knighthood, my Nobel Prize for achievements in human discovery and anything else in between.
I never went looking for Daniel at his ever again lest I be knighted again.
I hear she is now happily married with three daughters.
I’m betting on one of them flashing her undies intent on corrupting the mind of a boy half her age!

I Want A Cow That Loves Me

2009-11-10T16:28:00.000+03:00

Sadness
is dumb
and the worst
thing is
I have
no one
to share
it with.

Yours Trully

2009-11-02T08:19:00.000+03:00

When my brain stalled so much that I could not write a thing, I thought why not give blogville a sneak peak into what Payo looked like before shaving became such an issue. Enjoy...

Agavuude Mu Wiiki

2009-10-26T09:02:00.002+03:00

I thought this past week had ended just like any other; nothing much to reminisce about. But that was till I pulled out my notepad and started listing in no particular order what had transpired during the past seven days. Some are shameful, some funny and others I cant really classify. Read on...

I drunk-dialled my former boss at 2 in the night on the now infamous 99% from MTN.

I slaughtered a turkey.

JK admitted to me that he was gay and has 'eaten' like that for the past three years (to hell with the night caps at his pad from now on...you never know what he is capable of)

With inspiration from Ugandan Girl, I deleted all the phantom people that were populating my friends list on Facebook.

I resorted to a shortcut on my way home to avoid contact with Eddie the shopkeeper...the reason, 2200 shillings for that kilo of sugar I took 2 weeks ago.

I ate a rolex for the first time in a very long time. It used to be cheap so I clashed with the 'rolex guy' over the prices. Of course I didn't win.

My friends took me to this basement club in Mukono and guess what?!, it had pit latrines for toilets! You think I'm taking you for a ride? Visit Club One in Mukono, you will be amazed at how INNOVATIVE Ugandans have come.

I didn't want you to know this one but yeah, I had an all-access shave! A painful one at that.

Listening to U2's 'I'll Go Crazy if I don't go Crazy Tonight'

BHH...Speaking in the Third Person

2009-10-08T16:39:00.002+03:00

This blogger has been toying with the thought of whether to let other bloggeren into what happened to him the day he decided, rather half-heartedly to attend the last BHH. The urge to tell all has won the war and ‘tell’ has to be done.
So this blogger instinctively went to radio and tried to coerce Carsozy into dragging him along. He claimed he had to work late and wake up by 4 o’clock the next morning so blogger gave up the mini-effort. But blogger was quick to ask him if Baz was remotely interested in going.
“I spoke to him at lunch about it but he gave me no clear answer.”

Blogger decided to seek out Baz all by myself and the first thing Baz asked blogger rather authoritatively was why blogger was still not at Mateo’s yet. The logical thing for blogger to say was that he was indeed headed there, which he eventually did. But then Baz said he wasn’t going to be able to make it and that blogger should pass on his apologies. Another dead end.

Lulu, the last person blogger could think of now was already dressed (in a rather hot dress) for the Bride and Groom thing.
Armed with the evil apologies from Baz and Carsozy blogger headed for the venue, scanned the area for a group of more than 10 people and couldn’t find any. So blogger drowned himself in Guinness after Guinness before he SOSed Carsozy for ‘help’ in finding that group of strangers if they were present anyway. Carsozy promised to call later but he didn’t.
Luckily enough for blogger a couple of cocktail-hunting friends showed up and together, they got wasted. Then it was off to feast on Nandos’ overrated pizzas.
By that time BHH was the least of blogger’s worries. It stayed that way till the time was headed for the parking lot that he saw a group of around 9 people gathered around two tables, that he realised that that must have been lot he had come looking for. Who was the dreadlocked lady? And the white lady? Was that even the group blogger came looking for? And why was the turn up that low?

The decision to join the Guinness party signalled the end of blogger’s BHH quest for the night. Since there are many more to come in the future, blogger thinks he will settle for those.
And for those who sent their apologies through blogger, he is deeply sorry to have disappointed.

It's So Hungry I Can Barely Feed It

2009-08-31T21:01:00.002+03:00

Considering that I’ve not posted anything right here for exactly 45 days, I’ve gotta admit that is really long a time. I’ve got my reasons too. See I’m not exactly comfortable looking into a neighbour’s script when sitting an exam, so I took time off, shook blogging out of my unwilling head and got down to the academics for ‘shizzle’. Nevertheless after seeing this lady pull her ‘bullet’ from her bra, of all places, I took a peek or two to steer clear of a retake when I was out-spotted. Such can be the life of a student.

So that means I missed the BHH tales (of course I wasn’t there), and I hear Eizzy. k got saved! I’m only hoping she don’t try to convert me.

But then, my time away from blogging pales in comparison with my rather lengthy vacation away from the throes of dating. It has been more than a year now and what gets me worried though is how comfortable I’m becoming in the current climate. Its not till you make out with some girl (swollen with emotion too) you least expected to ever get cozy with that you realise maybe you have been cheating your body by depriving it of some things I cannot comfortably call essentials. You almost went to the next level with her! You find it even harder to say no to her advances politely. I don’t even know what they are! Cravings?

The next morning you are predictably like – “OMG What the fuck was I thinking?” but then it is already done and all you have left time for is to reflect on where in the not so immediate past might have gone wrong. You try hard to put on a gaze that conveys innocence, responsibility and authority that often than not, conceals the desperate bore that your life has become. You feel like letting loose, surrendering yourself to the force of the wind, and put up no resistance at all.

But your inner self knows that the life you once lived with some ease is now more like the unknown to you at present and that isn’t about to miraculously change overnight.

It’s really been mighty long.

“Never let your head bully your heart only because it is not worth the effort. The heart somewhat always manages to win” Dad told me that before he got saved!

Kwonka Viruses

2009-08-26T19:33:00.003+03:00

After a long time on katebe without blogging, I write something, save it on my flash disk, plug it into one of the New Vision computers and what do i get for my troubles? The flash disk is empty thanks in no small part to an unseen virus.
I guess i have to wait a little longer to post something as I get my e-house in order.

OFF TO THE SLEEPYHEADS IN I.T. TO SEE IF ANYTHING CAN BE DONE!

Milestones Gone Wrong: The First Puff

2009-07-14T09:34:00.003+03:00

In celebration of his first 6 months as a blogger, Payo thought of achieving another first. He regrets it now.

In ‘Ugandan English’ they are going to say that the brain behind this blog has become ‘spoilt’ only because your dearest, most previously holy Payo recently developed the insatiable urge to try a hand at smoking pot.

Payo chooses to blame the whole episode purely on curiosity and nothing more than that. He can promise that it won’t happen again. He now is truly resentful but only because it was a forgettable experience. Now he blames it squarely on the devil because deep down he knows he is such a nice guy.

Payo has considered rehab – he doesn’t think it will be of much help though. The idea of church has been floating in his head but the guilt in Payo’s mind is too much for him to handle. He can’t imagine looking at the suffering guy on the cross under these circumstances. He has already sent countless apologies to his lungs and other offended departments and since they are all willing to forgive him for the ordeal, he is kinda happy to settle for that.

The happiest part though for him is that he has something to heal the appetite of bloggers hungry for something. They deserve something to read!

Listening to Don’t Let Me Go – The Fray

21 Questions

2009-07-07T11:41:00.001+03:00

Do I really look like Pharell Williams or was it pure flattery from her?
Why is it easy to fall for and feel connected to someone you have never seen and probably will never see?
Why do you find it hard to tell that person and opt to keep playing the friendship card even when you really know that is not the case?
Why do friends these days think they have the moral authority to make choices for you no matter how personal they may be to you?
Am I the only one who thinks Ugandan women have become too predictable?
Who like me doesn’t want to live to the age beyond which I cannot find my own way to the bathroom for relief anymore?
Now that I’ve stopped growing taller, why am I not growing any fatter?
Who still dresses in SAVCO jeans?
Where have all the good kissers gone?
When should I start complaining of the loud noises that my neighbours sentence me too deep into the night?
Does everyone else have to endure mood swings from time to time like I do?
Where have the rest of the 21 Questions gone?

Daily Mail

2009-06-22T09:12:00.004+03:00

I find that in my inbox everyday.
I'm not yet offended just yet but when i find this whole thing annoying, i'm suing Yahoo! for damages to my conscience, judgement and moral virginity.
Then the few millions i get will help me fight this virus that is giving Obama sleepless nights...the one and only Creditus Crunchus.
By the way there is a pending copyright on that botanical name...just in case i need some one to sue if the Yahoo! thing fails.

If everything fails I'm going to need a tight rope ang a firm beam.

The One I Never Got To Bid Farewell To

2009-06-04T09:12:00.000+03:00

I’m Ugandan. I proudly say so. And I love almost everything that is Ugandan. I really do. But one thing ranks high among the things Ugandan that I’ve grown to dislike and fear at the same time and it’s non other than the roads and the beastly machines that utilise them unsparingly. Hate, because of the clumsiness of the drivers and the poor state of these roads and fear, for how ruthlessly the accidents seek to out do malaria as the chief executioner in this lovable country.

During my senior year, I lost my decker-mate Harold (R.I.P.) in one of those multiple carnages on the damned Masaka Highway. With less than a year left for him to end high school a bright light was rudely put out. I was inconsolable back then. It was like I had lost an arm or two. I still don’t think life has ever been the same without him. It is even more traumatising for me because by the time we parted company, Harold and I had just had a rather bitter argument while playing soccer. He was the goalie and I was the defender, we conceded a rather stupid goal which brought the blame game into play. I like to blame it on the passion we both had for our team. They always happen all over the world. I know.

But we didn’t kiss and make up after. A sad way to end such a friendship!

I also had my own close brush early this year when this stubborn driver of our taxi decided to compete with a fuel truck…….I get cold chills when I tell this story but so you must know, nothing eventually happened. But the old lady sited next to me wasn’t taking anything lightly and in so doing took a dim view of everything when she decided to rain blows and age old insults on the crazed driver. I haven’t even talked about what the extremely frightened passengers donated to the sponge they were seated on.

Now here I am looking at the photos of the game we played in Harold’s memory just over three years ago to this date wishing he would have been around to witness the Queen’s visit. He badly wanted to witness that day. As a piece of considerably consolation, I scored in that game and pointed to the sky, optimistic that Harold was sited up there…and that I was still in his good books.

I miss you Harold.

P.S. I have decided to run a separate blog for my escapedes in a Ugandan lecture room...check it out.

21st Century Vs 20th Century

2009-05-26T14:17:00.004+03:00

I recently made the trip to Mbarara to attend a wedding of a maternal cousin of mine. Just like any such function, the elderly from the deepest valleys and crevices of Bushenyi were in attendance, pulling all the stops to look good in their colonial suits. That didn't matter much anyway because everybody looked smashing.

Fast forward to the day after. A lazy Sunday morning on which I was battling the effects of uncontrolled drinking from the previous evening of merry making when my sweet nap was rudely interrupted by the loud voices emerging from the living room. The Old Folk were having an interesting conversation. I shrugged off the heavy head and dashed to the living room and witness the drama first hand...here we go

Oldie 1: Evangelista, but are you sure this thing is not a telephone?

Evangelista: It isn't a phone. I swear.

Oldie 1: But it has numbers just like a telephone!

Oldie 2: Maybe it is a new type of telephone that Eva doesn't know about. Just because she is from the town doesn't mean she knows these things.

Evangelista: That is called a remote.

Oldie 1: What? Not a telephone? Really?

Evangelista: Yamawe! This thing is for controlling that TV in front of you. You see. You see. I press a button and it changes.

Oldie 1: Eh! How does it do that?

Oldie 2: But the muzungu has gone very far. Eh! I have never seen this before.

Oldie 1: Of course you have never. You only know how to graze. You don't even have electricity in your hut. Eva, you tell me how it works.

Evangelista: I don't know how it really does it but all i know is that I'll press this button and the TV will change a station. Don't you see. 1 2 3 4. You see!

Oldie 1: Iwe Payo, weza how does this thing work? Eva here wasted our money at school. We should have bought tonto instead. What did you call it?

Payo: Remote............

Oldie 1: Aha.

Payo: You know like how those traditional doctors treat broken bones from miles away? That is also how these things work, from a distance but only shorter.

Oldie 2: What! You mean this thing has spirits in it?

Oldie 1: I am dead. I know that the white man has stronger medicine than the traditional healer. He can even make big metals fly yet our locals cant make chickens fly! This one is going to kill me if I don't sacrifice a white hen really soon.

Evangelista: (Laughing hysterically) No. It doesn't have actual medicine. The white man just calls it technology. The white man is very clever you know.

Oldie 2: Ah Eva what do you know? If you had a quarter of the white man's brains you would have been of some use to Bushenyi.

Oldie 1: (Sternly looking at the iPod in my hands) You better throw that one away too. But why doesn't that telephone have buttons? Eh. Throw it away. That is not a good telephone. A good telephone should have buttons!

Payo: (Retreating in considerable horror) Let me go throw it away.

Oldie 1: That's my boy.

And yes they were all high on potent gin at the time.

I'm Too Busy To Find A Title For This One

2009-05-11T05:32:00.006+03:00

When I said my goodbyes I promised to sneak in a thing or two. Well I have. Blogging can be so very addictive and my will-power has taken a nose-dive of late so I can't resist the urge.
Here we go.

My friend Mark clearly has a lot of sticky issues to settle with women. He wont stop reading this every day he wakes up. I asked him why and all he could say was that it is kinda inspiring to him.
'Sour grapes?' I ask. He almost throws his phone at me. I'll just share it with you and see what you think.

"Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women.

Women get the last word in every argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

The rarest thing in the world is a woman who is pleased with photographs of herself.

Women are like elephants to me. I would like to look at them, but I wouldn't want to own one.

Women really do rule the world. They just haven't figured it out yet. When they do, and they will, we're all in big big trouble.

Men really prefer reasonably attractive women; they go after the sensational ones to impress other men.

Women dress alike all over the world: they dress to be annoying to other women.

Women are in league with each other, a secret conspiracy of hearts and pheromones.

No woman wants to see herself too clearly.

No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick and tired of putting up with her crap.

A man gives many question marks, however, a woman is a whole mystery. There are women who do not like to cause suffering to many men at a time, and who prefer to concentrate on one man: These are

Men look at themselves in mirrors. Women look for themselves.

What men desire is a virgin who is a whore.

No matter how happily a woman may be married, it always pleases her to discover that there is a nice man who wishes that she were not.

Women always worry about the things that men forget; men always worry about the things women remember."

WHAT!!!
I'll honestly tell you that I think these are sour grapes.Very unfair to women! His future wife, daughter and mother alike.
He's the same chap who says he would like to meet the man or woman who invented sex and see what he's working on now.

Gotta go.

I'm Sorry To Say

2009-04-29T15:39:00.006+03:00

Some months, you just cant wait to end. Well for others you hate to see them end and April never should have ended. End of April simply translates into the start of May which annoyingly translates into the start of books all again which even more annoyingly translates into me giving the ever affable Bloggsville a rude break to widen the gulf between me and illiteracy.

Its sad I know and I thought I'd leave you all with what kind of life I expect to live in the next 8 months now that I have dropped all my corporate traits and handed in my resignation to the C.E.O.

MAY

-Rent as many DVDs as I can even if it is Tom and Jerry, invite as many peeps as I can and tell them to bring as much liquor as their blood can revolt.

-Frequent all night spots.

-Live large.

-Phone all lecturers to inform them of a slight health problem that is limiting my abilities.

-Put on some weight (even if it is just 2 grammes).

JUNE

-Photocopy all handouts and notes that I'm missing.

-Make a passionate plee to the Old Man for some money.

-Set an attendance target of 60% of weekly lectures.

-Hang out once every 2 weeks.

JULY

-Smile with anyone who cares to look my way so as to gain entry into any discussion group even if that group has my worst enemy in it.

-Hide the DVD player (pretend I dont know even where I hid it)

-Sit next to resourceful colleagues for tests.

-Party once every three weeks.

-Attend Church a little more often.

AUGUST

-Phone is off before I sleep.

-Walk around with summaries.

-Panic, pandemonium, mayhem and confusion can best describe this exam laden month.

-Less meals, less sleep.

All this with an eye on my GPA!

Till we meet again on the regular, to bloggers I say ciao.

I hope I'll sneak in and post a thing or two.

Listening to All Good Things (Come To An End)

And the sun was wondering if it should

Stay away for a day 'til the feeling went away

And the sky was falling

And the clouds were dropping

And the rain forgot how to bring salvation

Well the dogs were barking at the new moon

Whistling a new tune

Hoping it will come soon

So that they could die

Nelly Furtado

I'll Honestly Try To Be Honest

2009-04-25T10:55:00.007+03:00

When Eizzy.k bestowed this award on me, I um um...tried so very hard to ignore it so that she would forget that I was supposed to open my closet and pick the skeletons from their forced slumber and display them on cyberspace. I'm already being honest. Then the devil in yz bestowed the same award and now I'm thinking; 'OK why not? They will think you just took them for a ride and wont remember a thing when they ever get to meet you. Go on hit them with your slimy self!'

1. A lot of people have said over the years that I'm super shy. I have always vehemently denied this all the time but I wont cheat you the honest bloggers of the truth! I'm very very shy but I disguise it by looking you straight in the eye. But that's all I can do coz the rest of the time I'll be pulling my budding whiskers. I've kinda became reluctant to kick the habit when I read somewhere mbu gals kinda like shy guys. So if you can beat me at the staring contest, you win! Its that easy.

2. I wont say much about this one but I was very randy as a kid.I lost my virginity in P2....I have been practicing secondary virginity ever since. If there's anything of the sort.

3. I like to think of myself as a brave person coz i have had very many of those wow moments but recently I developed the insatiable urge to get myself tattooed all over my back. Upon walking into the parlour, there was a beefy guy crying like my neighbour's 4 yr old kid while he was receiving his dose of the needle. I retreated in horror and branched off to a bar to reflect.

4. I still carry a crush on a girl I studied with in primary school. P3 to be exact was the time I was literally swept off my feet but funny thing though is that she hated me with all she had coz I was too stubborn and made life a living hell for any body who crossed my path. Joan, I hope you forgave me and please wait for me!

5. My elder sister and I were partners in crime at an early age. We still are. But back then we would watch out for each other when one went to pick hot pieces of meat from the sauce pan before water could be added to make the stew.
"Payo its your turn, for me I went there yesterday but for you you have bad manners you don't want to go yet you know how to touch there when its hot"
"If you refuse today, I'll report you to mummy. Otyotyo otyotyo" Then I'd stealthily go hunting for us.

6. I have an impressive catalogue of scars thanks to my naughty history, the bulk of them being on my legs. The hair on the legs has failed to cover them enough. So you wont catch me in shorts anytime soon.

7. I've always wanted to be a musician but I got a reality check at age 4. My piano class report read like this; "His strokes are very clumsy, he's got minimal or no interest, and likes playing in the corridors. I think he is better off at the playgrounds" Dad pulled the plug on the whole project.
And yes I was ranked second last.

8. I once ended a relationship before it even begun just because this girl couldn't stop calling me 'babyface'. I know I look much younger than my passport suggests and if you want us to be enemies call me just that. Now go on dig your grave.

9. I like boobies!

10. No nick name seems to stick with me for longer than a year but my latest just wont go away. 'Lingwa' comes from my 6 ft frame. Even my dad calls me that these days. The unsuccessful ones include Spike (I honestly don't know why), Kikijo (I used to be unforgiving towards sugar canes), Lampard (I was clearly overrated back then), Smiley (apparently I smile a lot). ENOUGH!

7. Bloggers who deserve this;

Um, my lawyer advised me against adding more than seven. I obliged.

Then the instructions for the 'chosen ones' ;

1. You must brag about the award

2. You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger

3. You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.

4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.

5. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

Was Just Evesdroppin'

2009-04-21T16:56:00.004+03:00

Soprano: Ooh Baby cut me, yeah?

Tenor: Yeah

Soprano: Ouch!

Tenor: I don't think I want to do that anymore

Soprano: Ooh baby.

Tenor: Yeah.

Soprano: Choke me, yeah?

Tenor: Yeah

Soprano: Wait wait I cant breathe!

Tenor: I don't think I like this.

Soprano: Yeah. Tie me up then, yeah?

Tenor: Yeah

Soprano: Ow fuck! fuck! leg cramp

Tenor: Shit that sucked

Soprano: Yeah! I know. You wanna blindfold me?

Tenor: Yeah! Why not.

Soprano: Oh piss! Did you drop a bat on me?

Tenor: Why would I have a bat?

Soprano: God damn

Tenor: Argh! Lets just get drunk and pass out.

Online Psychoanalysis

2009-04-19T16:00:00.005+03:00

A while back I was hounded by a crazy-ass Kenyan gay guy on Facebook who literally thought he could do to me what Cheeye is sensationally destined to endure during his jail time as reported by that sick excuse of a tabloid. To Cheeye, I don't want to imagine you wincing in pain so I'll say a prayer for you anyway though you don't really deserve one.
Someone pointed out that my profile was rather 'inviting' as the cause of the attraction. You know that 'anything i can get' thing was sitting pretty on my profile page. But I got rid of that one.

Yes! For once I heeded to advice.
Notoriously grumpy are the people from my place!

So now how would you explain the friend of a friend wanting to counsel me online.

"I'm a counselling psychologist
Well this could be your turning point
Anyway I'm naturally a listener
That's what I think about myself
But I know it takes guts to really listen and get involved in what someone is saying
Now tell me what afflicts you my child."

Bollocks!!!!
And no, I haven't seen her before. What's the diagnosis this time? I look a tortured soul in my profile pic? I'm waiting to hear the solution to this one too.
How I wish she could sit Kenyan boy and see what really afflicts him. A wild guess is that they may even get married.
But I'll keep her as a friend just in case I'm staring at a lengthy spell with the wincing Teddy in the coolers......only that I'll deserve all your prayers.

And did you have the slightest idea of this? What about this?
These are acceptable levels of sickness!

Have yourselves a great week.

I'm Drunk, For A Good Reason Too

2009-04-15T20:54:00.007+03:00

SILENCE: 4YR OLDs IN RESOLUTION MAKING SESSION

-'When I grow up I want to be a teacher.'
-'Me, I want to be a doctor'
-'For me I want to be a lawyer'
-'But for me I want to be a Bank manager'

Payo's turn- I want to be a drunkard!

And all the kids laughed.
Mr. Lukwago sentenced me to 6 strokes of the cane.
THANK YOU TEACHER FOR TEACHING US

Now who is living his dream huh?

Nude Bunnies For Easter

2009-04-13T18:00:00.002+03:00

I had to let you in on this one.......but promise never to taunt me on this one one day because you have no idea of what evil I'm capable of. Agreed?!

It's not a classic...not by any means but since then I cant stop replaying the events of Easter Sunday. You see this was one of those rare opportunities where the whole family gets to bond, right from the 80yr olds to the 3 months old tots......I'm aching to get to the clincher.....but anyway let me take you through the steps.

We all sat down for a sumptuous lunch that was rather annoyingly mixed with all those traditional dishes just to accommodate the more traditional folk. But it was the table talk that was all the more amusing.

What would you expect to hear when you're dominated by human relics?

Dad: But Andy's (my young brother) gu foot is too wide ehhh!! Who do you think it came from?

Eliphaz: (they've got strange names) That foot rooks like that of Kajwenje

Alphonse: Ehh wabiha! That foot is from his mother. You rook at her foot!!

Of course we were all so full of laughter. Watching your respectables being undressed in front of their kids is not a thing you get out of bed knowing you will see at noon, but when they finally picked on me for cross-examination, for once I didn't find alot of it funny anymore.

But I just tried to keep a plastic smile on that would even make Steve Segal's thin ones look warmer.

Alphonse: But we just donti understand this one....he only borrowed his Mzee's height.

Expedito (the resident loud mouth chipped in with his damning contribution): The hair is very poor. Ni n'komugusha (its like sorghum...yeast....i don't really know)

Alphonse: Hehehehe......woman, who is the father of this young man, I'm rooking at his nose and its from Buganda! Iti used to be small when he was a kid, what happened huh?

Mukaade (mom to the rescue): Wapi, he has just forgotten to comb his hair otherwise he has probably the best hair around. As for the nose, look at his father's chi nose and tell me.

Mzee: Why are you defending the poor quality there?

Teresfolo: As for the feet we shall not even go there!!!!!

Alphonse: They resemble those of Siriako. The one from the Kyamates. I mean the one with acres of tea plantations.

O.K. I'm letting you in on too much.

But if you are in my corner you are probably wondering how someone can have such enormous bodily flaws. I wont agree with the stupid old men or deny the allegations but if you've interacted with the old folk on the regular you realise that this is what they are only good at. Show him Tyler Perry and he will frown. Stupid old men.

Since I wasn't the only one at the receiving end of proceedings, i just let it be. Now i'll let you in on the clincher.......

After sifting through all the photo albums in the house, the oldies wanted to catch a film. One faction wanted to catch any sports event, the other a film preferably African. The film faction with the help of a mouthful of a contribution Expedito won this hotly contested mini-rivalry. We the dot-comers just sat there dumbfounded, nursing our egos wounded at the table earlier.

What I'm about to tell you I cant describe graphically.........

When these guys went through the Nigerian collection on offer and chose this Movie with a modest title, i heard my niece giggle. I definetely had no idea because they are more of a feminine thing. Not even those two guys stuck in bodies of ten year olds with their laboured humour seems to drag me towards Nollywood.

So when the movie started playing, i finally realised why little niece was still giggling uncontrollably.......the very first scene was a sex scene! Yeah, sweaty Africans getting it on and in all styles you can imagine.
Silence engulfed the room so much that you could hear a pin drop. Even naughty little niece was gazing at the telly with a smirk across her face. A cursory glance at the very religious old folk across the room and their faces told a story of disgust. Look who was laughing now. Eliphaz made a mad dash for the DVD player but we all knew he had no idea of how the white man's machines operate. He got frustrated with his efforts and just disconnected the mains. I had to excuse myself, it was too much.

I made a dash to my room locked the door firmly behind me and laughed till it hurt! I'd pay anything see the look on the faces of the old folk one more time.

Now who had the last laugh.....huh!

When the laughter had subsided I went through my highschool stuff picked my old sketch book and took a shot at delivering that Manga Hentai stuff through the eyes of the Nigerians.
I don't think you really want to see my sketches!

Charm School Candidate

2009-04-07T14:00:00.001+03:00

Most things natural always tend to be constant but that is if you were living in the years past because of late we have (me and the medical minds of Dr. 90210) devised means to navigate round these problems. Brazilian Butt Lift fans know what I mean when I say what I say to mean what I say.

That brings me to my latest Kenyan friend on Facebook. I'll call him Keith. Keith sent me a friend request a couple of weeks back and I didn't reject it. I obliged and added him probably thinking he was one of my fans! He must have seen me on radio though coz I had no idea who the hell he was!

Fast-forward to last Saturday (a very chilly one) while I was idling on Facebook Chat when I found Mr. Keith idling too. Then came our 'get to know you' session where talk rotates around bad roads and the President's bandaged finger and of course the crazy weather.

It kinda went on well till he asked whether i had a girlfriend. Stupid question to ask! My status clearly states what it states when I scream that I'm single without remorse.

I instinctively checked out his profile and his friends list to acquaint myself with who he really was.

I thought it strange that of all his 86 friends, only one was a female and that the rest of the 85 were disgustingly naked men. I'll let you do the assesment on Keith's orientation). But I'd have to admit they had far better toned bodies than my sorry excuse of a six-pack.

Then came the spoiler;

"You look good in your profile pic. I'm kinda feeling lonely." Like I needed to know that much.....

More of the spoiler;

"What's your phone number so that I can give you a call and hear your voice?"

Even more of the spoiler;

"Ah, I can see you've taken quite a while to answer that question." This guy had the bloody nerves.

Then came the witty answer (if he thought I was half as dumb as he was)

"Why don't you call those girls at customer care, they sure do have great voices..."

Foolish Keith at it again;

"Oh! I didn't think of that one." Yeah he just admitted to being dumb.

I didn't need a second invitation to undo my short lived friendship with Keith and block him totally. Not that many people can stand being hit on by a gay guy you barely even know. Now I'm up and down trying to find Keith entry forms into Charm School just in case you didn't realise how lame he was at his game.

Ha ha, don't think that if he was any better, he was going to be any more successful than he already was. Did he think he was bribing a kid with a lollipop? Keith, you're a fool for that one.

And I'm told girls (the pretty ones at least) have to endure this every day! I feel your pain..........

The Big What If

2009-03-29T20:43:00.016+03:00

Every time I get dangerously idle I think! About a lot of things. 94% percent of them are never constructive but I still think! I love to think. But one thing I always think about keeps playing so often in my mind with the same frequency as the memory of my first kiss. Those little things we ignore not because they are abundant around us but those things we don't think about just because we know we can never have them.....now think with me what the world would be if;

There were prizes under the liners of beer bottles...like it is with soda bottles?

These beer guys are mean.....really mean! I've taken soft drinks for many years, and didn't stop even when they were blamed for a severe allergic reaction I had one time. I still haven't won a random prize for all my loyalty and i don't blame them because maybe it all boils down to ill luck. But what if beers were to buck the trend and offer prizes under their liners?

Do guys really need that kind of excuse to drink. Girls do! If the prizes were girl friendly, like shopping trips, and vacations in Zanzibar then more girls would drink, and there would be more understanding about why men drink. Of course, that means everyone would have a beer gut.

Wouldn't it make a hangover less devastating if you knew you had a prize to redeem later on?

Female drivers were not believed to be dumb

Okay maybe they are! I don't know that much about them but it seems to be a general consensus that they are. Who cares if they are anyway?

But what if they were not perceived as brilliantly stupid?

Less laughter in the world? Higher occurrence of cancer? Less videos on you tube? A greater chance of meeting more men than women at your local driving school?

Now which sadist would want that?

The majority of humans were left-handed?

Did you even know that August 13th is the Left Handers Day? No you don't. I knew you wouldn't!!

That left-handedness is more common in males than females the same way it is responsible for mental retardation and dyslexia may also be news to you! The stranger truth though is that they are associated with intellectual advancement. Okay enough of that because this is no science lecture.

More males on earth? Retards everywhere? More Clintons (definitely more Lewinskys)? More left handed cameras? More John Mc Enroes?

It's a sticky one!

Everyone didn't have to say 'hello' each time they answered a call

Telecom Companies would make a lot less money and there would be less carbon dioxide in the world. Of course, hello is like an 'on' switch to pay attention so people wouldn’t catch the first half of the conversation, misunderstandings would increase, death would rise, more men would find out their wives were cheating on them….Chaos. Hello should remain forever and forever

Girls always chased after guys

There's this particular Bud Light ad that interests me a lot. It shows a lady with arms crossed (kinda mean looking face too) declaring that she "doesn't chase men who can't run!" So what if the hunter became the hunted? It happens today, that I'm fully aware of. But what if for every woman that got winked at, 30 guys out there got anonymous calls and messages declaring love for their perfect legs (even when they clearly aren't?)

You see! Guys aren’t quite as picky about who they date as girls are. Wait. They are. Difference is USUALLY a guy’s reasons behind the girls he date/doesn’t date actually make sense.

Girls on the other hand have the most complicated lists set up. “He should be shy but fight for me”…blah blah. If girls did the chasing this problem would be solved. Girls would have their list and go about finding the right man. Men would simply sit , watch , wait and accept the creation that made its way toward them if it fit their more realistic ideals. If they were expecting Beyonce, ahahahahahaha! Good luck with that one.

Do you see more girls settling the bills? More guys getting facials, manicures, tans and botox? Less cases of Rape? More female janitors? Longer working hours for women?

We all found gossip disgusting

Life would be simpler. There wouldn’t be drama. At all. Life would be quieter. No fights over what he said she said about him talking to her after you said you didn’t yet they saw you with him….in all honesty though, it would also be extremely boring and humans would find some other destructive way to bring excitement.But I see the distinction between He and She dying out. Only one of them loves to gossip! Who?

All bling was cheap

I would get some every week.

Girls would have to find another expensive way to get men to their love for them. Apparently girls will have to find some way to torture men besides sex that is because they know, sex punishes both them and not just HIM.

DVD players had never replaced VCR players

Who can forget the days when you had just hours before the local movie store slapped a fine on you for late returns only for a power black-out to mercilessly hit you. OK. that fine is payable you think! Power returns and you discover the silly VCR has ‘eaten’ the tape! No DVDs? Life would be hell! There would be no seasons on one disc, twenty movies on one disc. What would people do?! Would we TALK to each other?! That would be our only option, wouldn’t it?! (Kiss your CD pack gratefully while sending a silent prayer of thanks to God, and whoever invented the first CD)

Priests and monks weren't celibate

A quick glance at the demography statistics tells me that the females are trouncing males numerically the world over. Then of course apart from those who are comfortable with the idea of sleeping around with married men, the rest are lonely. If these people of God weren't celibate this number would be halved. Even they agree!

yz.......I'm smooching you for your help with this one!!!!

Untitled

2009-03-25T21:26:00.008+03:00

17 Days Ago

You meet your friend who introduces you to his outrageously beautiful friend. You exchange pleasantries and part company.

13 Days Ago

You bump into your friend's friend at the bus stop. You engage in loose talk, exchange contacts and promise to keep in touch.

11 Days Ago

You receive a text from her first thing in the morning wishing you a splendid day. You smile all the way to work.

10 Days Ago

You give her a call though you really have nothing to talk about.

9 Days Ago

You engage in text craze with her till sunset. She tells you about her frustrations in her relationship; the selfish guy with a high affinity for everything in a skirt.

8 Days Ago

The text craze continues. Now more than ever the thumbs are sore.

7 Days Ago

You agree to hang out that evening. You spend the whole evening drooling over her beauty which you lavishly pay compliments to. You realise the strange fact that good people always inspire naughty thoughts from the fairly good people.

6 Days Ago

She puts you on the spot for not introducing your girlfriend to her yet. You tell her how you've put relationships on hold till further notice. She doesn't buy it. They always do anyway.

5 Days Ago

Regardless of her busy schedule, she still finds an excuse to text you.

4 Days Ago

You spend more than half an hour on phone with her. By the time you are through its 2 am.

3 Days Ago

Despite her best efforts to lure you to the watering hole for a drink or two later that evening, you politely decline the invite citing fatigue. You promise to make up for the 'lost' time.

2 Days Ago

She introduces you to her selfish, skirt chaser of a boyfriend. You are not impressed with her taste. You think she can do better. Somehow you strike a conversation with him and realise he ain't evil through and through.

She later that night texts you to invite you to her place. She promises good food and a nice movie. You agree.

Yesterday

You leave work early and find your way to her place. You commend her on the neatness of her room, you go one better on the food, and settle to catch the movie. You ask yourself why she has chosen The Notebook! She gets all teary through the movie so she seeks your embrace. You don't object.

On your way out after the movie she crowns this her best evening in a long time and then plants one of those prolonged infectious kisses on your lips and wishes you a good night. You stand there dazed while she shuts the door. You find your way home and lie in bed for close to 4 hours.

You just cant sleep!

Today

Your head is heavy. You desperately want to sleep.

While you keep your eyes fixed on the phone expecting a text from her any second, you ask yourself why you just cant be friends!

Me! Yoga?

2009-03-23T21:27:00.004+03:00

Like most men, I've always been rather skeptical about meditation. When it came to achieving inner tranquillity, I'd done okay with repeats of Friends and an occasional can of Castle.

Yet there I was, a little more than two years ago, sitting cross-legged on the floor for what I hoped would be a stress-relieving hour of yoga meditation. As I looked around the room where this lesson was being given, it seemed as if a stereotype had come to life: a bald man in a robe walked among us holding a stick while, eyes closed, we tried to focus on nothing but our breathing.

Then I learned what the stick was for. I moved - a twitch really - and this holy man did something I never would have expected.

He whacked me on the top of the head!

I spent the rest of the session flinching, anticipating the next blow. Everyone else seemed peaceful and serene, but by the end of the class I was ready to challenge our leader to a fight. Lets see how yoga-like he'll be when I'm smashing his face in.

It would have been easy to dismiss meditation as either bogus or demented. But I was desperate. My anxiety levels were soaring, my ability to sleep was plummeting and this is when migraines chose to strike. It was when I locked my keys in the car and the house on the same day that I knew I needed something to unscatter my thoughts.

My solution was to meditate on my own - to become, in effect, my own yogi. I've since discovered that just 15 minutes a day of meditation helps me not only to relax but also to concentrate better when I'm working.

But I ain't going back to that old man's lessons afterall I can't even fold my legs the way he wants me to. His yoga ain't the thing for me. Mine is. However it's been exactly 18 months since I last practiced but my tribulations of late might revive my routine.

Revolving Doors

2009-03-17T14:15:00.003+03:00

So, I’ve been in the ranting mode of late. Forgive me for being such an ardent Benitez follower to end up being so very venomous with my words. But wait. Just before I completely stop ranting, I hope you understand that the frustrations are just too prickly to let go of unnoticed. There are three soaps I love to hate; The Quarellsomes, The Snobs and The Liars in that exact order. The world would be a dull place without them but I just can’t stand them. Is the bad me beating the good me into submission? I think not. In fact I know not. I still flash my mechanical smile too often that viewers might find annoying in the long run but again I thought a smile would be the mother of all signs that things are all too well in my world. I still think they are. Or do I just wish them to always be!

Well last week while I was downing coffee at Baldwin's, this lady dressed like she had just successfully bargained with one of our notorious Judges to put away another of those chicken thieves for sometime served up with the occassional hard labour, walked in and asked rather too politely to share a table with me. Being the gentleman I can be, I put on a smile (I bet it was a grin) and didn’t object. I haven’t even described what she looked like yet. Because if I do, I might have to role up Gisele Bundchen, Gwyneth Paltrow, Salma Hayek and Alek Wek into one. You get the mix, don’t you? Having to accurately describe every inch of leg, ear, lip, nose, et al, I'd go on forever. It’s no enviable task. I'll be honest with you, I had lust written all over my face and etched into my frontal lobes must have been some naughty thoughts. So I tried so very hard to control the 'Adam' in me and put up a conversation without having to play around with the spoon or shuffle my feet like I was possessed. She said she was a consultant. That all I heard and not the words that trailed. Apart from the word 'saviour' but that was after 6 or so minutes I presume. That was how taken up I was by her! I tried to console myself that saviour was part of the lengthy name of the firm she was 'consulting' for. Strange name I thought. Curious to know whether I had heard her right, I asked her to repeat herself. I wasn't however prepared for what I heard thereafter. This time I heard Bible, Jesus, Worship and saviour all mentioned in the same line. The last I heard was that gut wrenching 'are you saved?' question. I don’t know what stopped me from losing my cool this time though I'm not the kind blessed or rather cursed with the proverbial short fuse. I calmly answered no and gathered my belongings, strewn all over the table and fled for the counter to clear my bill.

What pained me the most was leaving my half-empty cup of coffee behind and not the chance of getting to know this heavenly (pun intended) work of art.

I generally have distaste for such kinds of people. Not because I'm evil through and through but for how often they can kill your moment of hard earned joy, like that great cup of coffee, and for that we shall always be at odds. Always!

So you realise I'm not ranting after all, don’t you? I haven't been lavish but decisively economical with my distaste which must be a positive sign. But I can't promise not to go over the top when I encounter one of those many who preach by the roadside while making a mockery of PA systems. Or the next time I take a Bell ('For A Great Night and a Good Morning' is its slogan!) or two and wake up with a throbbing headache. Maybe I need help anyway if this qualifies to be mild ranting.

And for those who have been desperate to know whether my quest for a better March is still on course, I’m sorry to report that I’ve withdrawn my investment into a relationship that has consistently posted loses of gargantuan proportions. Maybe it has a lot to do with the advent of revolving doors in my life.

Now I truly love my life.

She Is Going To Skin Me

2009-03-03T19:25:00.011+03:00

So, a ‘good’ friend of mine classifies herself a Certified Loner. I’m not even sure I should call her a good friend, owing to the fact that I last saw her ten....yes ten years ago, but I’d rather call her that. She has done nothing not to deserve it-it’s not like she has pulled a gun on me or worse made off with my muffin. But being a loner gets me thinking rather worryingly whether she is happy. But again what is happinesas any way? I’ve got no real answer but just what I think happiness should be all about.

It’s not about job success or raising perfect kids or a great marriage. It’s about how you live each moment. My neighbour Pamela, a young mother struggling to pay her bills and raises a child on a receptionist's salary, woke up one morning in a state of near despair. She and her husband had split up-again-and she was dead broke. The sky was overcast. Figuring things looked so bad she got out the vacuum and was dispiritedly working her way back and forth across the living room rug when she looked up. There right beside her with his toy vacuum, was her 18 month old son. He beamed at her, and Pamela realized that despite everything, in that moment she was perfectly content. At least that’s what she told me.

Most of us are like her. We conclude that if we aren’t happy all the time, then we aren’t happy. Yet its ludicrous to expect to be happy 24 hours a day. Happiness as I’ve come to see comes in bits and pieces, and what we must learn to do is savour the small events in our lives-like the baby working a vacuum across the room. Oddly it may come your way in the form of a bird several meters airborne, relieving itself on your precious top!

I understand Buddhists call this approach living mindfully or living with mindful awareness. I kind of agree, but there is no chance that I’m about to change my affiliation. Others describe it as living in the present, or growing where you’re planted. Whatever the phrase, the concept is the same: Its when you are consciously and completely experiencing where you are, what you are doing and how you are feeling. It’s when you aren’t thinking about anything but the experience you’re having.

At such moments, when the present is so full of richness and wonder that nothing else matters, when you are feeling connected to nature and to other people, you are happy. If there is one secret to happiness it is paying attention to these moments and creating opportunities for more of them in your life. I don’t even know if I’m even making any sense but I guess I’m happy! Is she?

Here I Come March

2009-02-24T18:05:00.008+03:00

A man has never been happier to see a month end. Since that time when I woke up hungry one morning only to find that the rat had chewed on my bread; the car wouldn’t start as I hastened to be at work in time for a crucial assignment; and the wailing baby in the next seat pissed onto my shirt on its debut when i opted to take the famed K'la taxis, I haven’t had it as rough as this February.

To kick off the bad month, I borrow a friend’s car to go see friends for a get together on the other side of town. Driving in K'la the 'Pot Hole Capital of the World', the oil tank is damaged when I hit a pothole. Before I know it, all the oil has spilled out, the science of friction has done its job, and I have an engine knock on my hands. The bill amounts to $50, not to mention the night I spend at the police reception when the traffic warden literally accuses me of navigating the pot holes poorly. I miss the ‘thing’ with the boys and my cheap phone (kabiriti) I had grown fond of is arrested by the cops as an ‘accomplice’ never to be seen again.

A few days later, I switch on my computer and nothing happens. Upon investigation, I discover that the hard disk has thrown in the towel for no apparent reason. Which would be fine – I guess even a machine has the right to retire – except that all my data of three years is locked up on the machine. Don’t tell me about backups. Everyone knows that they should back up their data, but no body really does. I take the computer to a technician who tells me that for $20, he can ‘try’ to recover the data. I figure that my data is worth much more than that, so I pay the money. He gets the hard disk working again alright, but then, he loses all the data in the process! He then adds insult to injury by saying there is no refund for the shoddy work he has done. I’m seething with anger now and just make an exit to avoid creating a scene; after all I’m not as endowed in the muscular stakes as he is. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I get home one evening to find that burglars have invaded my room, wrecked every thing and burst a water pipe leaving the floor flooded. Every thing on the floor, which is pretty much everything if you know how much I like throwing things on the floor, is damaged. The cost? We can’t even talk about that one. And no, I didn’t have any insurance for anything. I am a true African who tends to leave things in God’s hands (I’m not very proud of that anyway).

And just when I'm thinking I've seen enough misfortunes for the month, the beloved Owino market burns to ashes so i have to wait for probably another month or so to revamp my already ageing wardrobe. A day later I'm faced with my biggest work load in the history of my rather young life in work. I'm too busy i don't eat a thing till it is 3:45 pm when even my very demanding ulcers are tired of tying to grab my attention. Right after my meal I ran into Bobi Wine and his 16 man crew of unkempt, filthy and high on a substance i can only speculate about in the hallway; i almost surrender my food to them but just get myself together. I settle at my desk, nauseating and i think I'm going to fall sick! His entourage, a pack of equally filthy riders on their scooters stay camped outside the office premises making a lot of noise and chanting slogans of the ghetto where they claim they are proud to hail from! I can't concetrate now and there is pure pandemonium as every one wants to get a glimpse of the show that has unravelled. I'm totally bored stiff. So I am grumpy and depressed about the February misfortunes? Hell no. Only last weekend, I was out partying the whole night. I mean, it is not like I have lost a leg or something.

Still I will be glad to see Feb go. The only good thing that happened to me in the entire month is some girl who decided that I wasn’t ‘lucky’ enough for her liking and took a walk just before the 14^th, promising to see how next month would pan out, then take a step further after that.

Now that is something to smile about

Dining Solo

2009-02-19T18:41:00.003+03:00

Every so often I have to eat out. These occasions are rare and far between for no other reason than that I don't enjoy them.

You walk into a restaurant and look around for for a table set for one. In your dreams! So you settle for a table set for two, hopefully in a corner. Of course everyone is watching and wondering....then the waiter comes up to you and asks if you want to order the immediately or wait for....You pretend you didn't hear the last part and ask for the menu. Since you have no one to talk to, unless there is a television screen, you idly watch the other diners who are trying hard not to stare your way as you wait for the food. Starring back doesn't help-I tried.

Now I carry a book and bury my nose in it till the food arrives and through the meal. Alternatively, I take some work with me and you would be amazed how much concentration I can put into it. Also, it offers a plausible reason for the solo dinner-work pressures.

I ask for and pay the bill when I am half way through, so I can flee once I am done eating.

Bottom line: Eating alone in a restaurant is depressing.

Coming Unstuck Part 2

2009-02-09T14:45:00.010+03:00

A sequel to the most comprehensive guide to getting out of sticky situations.

You're stuck with the bill
OK you've chosen to storm the Emin Pasha with this girl who could easily pass for your sister (you look disturbingly alike), of course with the insane hope of scoring later on. The tasty food you've consumed has connived with the bill to deny you the little credibility you might have achieved through the date. Avoid the drama that may ensue. You can avoid this altogether by uttering a single sentence the second the bill touches the table: 'do you want to split this evenly?' Tried it in fifth grade and it didn't work but since every body's in a recession, the brains may be AWOL making it worth the try!

A porn flick is stuck in your video player
One silly man i know once wrecked a $699 VCR so he wouldn't have to pay a $4 late fine on The Godfather. You can do the maths. A wiser or more patient man might have fixed the problem in 20 seconds. Just sitch the beast off and give it time to re-initialise or just visit fixer.com and get graphic detail on how to open it up. Or rather wreck the TV set, it gives you an extra day not to get caught!

Your zip is stuck
Yell out 'ouch' if it has anything to do with southerly skin. The rest is for you to figure out since they say experience teaches best! My painful remedy is to drop some hot wax on the zip to lubricate it.

You are stuck in the middle of a fight
Why would you be there anyway? But now that you are dont grab one bloke saying 'dont swing'. it is the worst thing you can do in a fight, because you're giving a clear shot to the other person, which your most likely to do anyway. Well just run for your life, update your insurance policy then call the medics to retrieve what may be left of the fighters'.

Come Unstuck Part 1.

2009-02-07T20:02:00.005+03:00

When you were a kid you were always getting stuck- between railings,up trees, halfway through your maths homework. But you could always rely on an adult to come to your rescue or tell you what a hypotenuse was. now that you're a grown up, tearfully running to your dad when things go wrong is, sadly, no longer an option. That's why you need my comprehensive guide to getting out of any awkward situation. From freeing a stuck trouser zip to removing a rude film that's jammed in your video machine. Of course, i'm not suggesting that the two events are, in any way, connected....

You're stuck with a Q but no U in Scrabble
Don't quit in a fit of pique: you can conquer this quandary. Quite a few U-less Q-words exist. 'Qat' is the best known - it is a variation of 'kat', an African shrub with leaves that are chewed as a stimulant. Or 'Qi', pronounced chi, a Chinese life-force. Actually, some Scrabble experts don't always know the definitions of the words they use, but I've included them so you can show off:
qadi: a muslim ruler
qanat: a sewer system in Israel
qintar: a unit of Albanian currency
qoph: a letter in the Hebrew alphabet
Words with both Q's and U's - but not where you'd expect them:
buqsha: a Yemeni monetary unit
qivuit: the wool of a musk ox
If you're stuck with too many vowels, Payo suggests that you rid of them via fake-looking but genuine words such as: aa, aia, oe, cooee, euouae, moue, or jiao. If you're stuck with all consonants, try 'crwth', or the ever-popular 'cwm'. Good luck.

You're stuck without a partner on Saturday night
We know how this goes. Your first instinct is to stay home and watch Big Break. But then you start thinking about how you're never going to meet anyone if you don't go out , so you phone some idiot and go to a bookshop cafe by yourself. Select some reading material, preferably a magazine such as Vibe. Buy a coffee. Scan the room until you find a woman sitting alone at a table, and ask if she minds if you sit with her. Now you can flash her a few shy smiles and start a conversation by showing her something brilliantly funny or insightful you've just read. After all, she's probably there for the same reason you are.

You're crazy about someone who is off-limits to you
This may sound hard, but forget about her: you can find another woman you love just as much, without the strings attached. You have to ask yourself why you persist with one person. It could be that you're too scared of the pain of the pain of giving up fixation . The fact is that there are probably thousands of suitable partners out there - if you're brave enough to give up this fictional relationship with a person who's unavailable. Pull yourself together man!