no appropriate title

Writing has always been a way for me to fill up a slow weekend. A conduit for my feelings, ideas and experiences. A place to let my ideas sit naked. It’s been a spell since I’ve typed anything so either my ideas found some pants or I’m not measuring up to the reasonable expectations of a writer (and we all know how size mattersJ Well, statistically I’m only slightly above average but what I lack in size I try to make up for it with enthusiasm and red bull) Feel free to take time to admire the wit of the latter euphemism. Hey, what do you know? I still have itJ

Following this realization, I could really use a ‘pick me up’ and I’m not talking coffee. The weekend is here so here goes, let me try and fill her up (Yeah, couldn’t resist one moreJ) Open laptop, slam back a beer and type… So the following happened while I was offline and some thoughts I have

I moved jobs. No sleeping like a koala bear anymore. Those lucky sloths!  

The new girl at the office rides a motor cycle to work (boy do I want to polish her helmet). She’s a knock out! And I bet that’s her real hair color. Too subtle? For some reason I imagined our conversation going something like

Me: “How do you like it here so far?”

New girl: “Bite me”

(Oh I wish I could). Turns out she’s nice. Very pleasant.

House of cards season 3 is out. Binge watched it last night. The trick is to leave the door ajar during toilet breaks and pee on the porcelain part of bowl to reduce ‘stream’ noise. Turn up the volume. You won’t miss a thing. Or just pause the DVD

Hannibal Lector should order some Chinese from that racist restaurant in Kilimani. It’s slim pickings there (I really hope you guys get these jokes)

The ‘big’ fella made public a list that incriminates half of the country and some retirees. That’s a hell of a move, sir. In the words of Harvey, ‘did you sit down with some chimpanzees and a bucket of crack and come up with that?’ Bold.

In an effort to jack my neighbor for her panties I have inadvertently learnt how to cook. And I use the term cautiously because the jury is still out. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough if the meal gets to dessertJ. Besides, she’s a nester so if it works she’ll make a nest at my place and be the one cooking for me.

Commercial Break

There are no thought provoking sojourns into the realm of unfettered spirit in this blog. You will only find cheap jokes that I try to sneak in through food reference sexual puns and the occasional use of the words ‘fill up’. Only on paper though. I still have to kiss my mother with this mouth so I limit these references to writing. So read a book instead if you want to learn something.

It has been a while since I hit the bottle. Today’s ‘pick me up’ is the first so no throwing up therefore apart from doing the horizontal hoorah, I haven’t been losing any bodily fluids. I look and feel healthier. I hope I am. But if blood flow is anything to go by I think I am ;-). Thought I’d be firm about staying away from alcohol. There would be no wiggle room. But who was I kidding?

Got a chance to visit Nanyuki for work. It’s kind of like small England over there. White people everywhere and shit weather. Even the hotels call breakfast ‘full’ and ‘half’ English.

I am surrounded by so many people yet I am profoundly lonely. This recently changed when I ran into a certain lass the other day. It’s a gas how we can be stupid together. She hasn’t returned my 20 calls in the last three days. That’s just mean, though, I think that speaks more to my character flaws than hers. Maybe I have a stalker potential.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Dress My Choice

Matatu drivers are like pilots. They can crash land a vehicle. Now their touts have added a job title to the resume. Strippers! and i'm not talking La Barrels on Langata Rd.  Those dry drunks and dry drug abusers had plans the minute they saw that poor girl…not the least of which was to ‘discipline’ her. They probably touch themselves to sleep every cold night and say that as they chance to touch a woman. That girl may need chemically ingested therapy after that traumatic experience. I know I would. Rome or in this case Nairobi is clearly burning.

There are a thousand thoughts in a man that he doesn’t know about until he takes a pen to write. There are a thousand thoughts in my head right now about miniskirts. I’ll just write one. I like them! And that doesn’t even begin to cover it (see what I did there?;-)) What warm blooded male with a twig and berries doesn’t like miniskirts? Ask a Monk. I’m at a loss. In every conflict or dilemma or issue such as this one, people will claim to espouse some higher order values. For example, the way a lady decides to put on is a matter of her privacy (making the men who contribute to this discussion or show interest seem like some sort of voyeurs), culture, fashion, expression, identity etc. Everyone will feel a need to educate women as to what they may or may not wear. I’m not a women’s clothes aficionado but I know enough to know I like them short. For some ‘aesthetically challenged’ ladies could it be over compensatory behavior? If you can’t see me perhaps you should adjust your vision a little lower? Oh! Hello! There you are.

 A woman once told me that women dress for themselves and for other women. That may be true (or false) but it is men, I believe, who want it. As advertisers would say, ‘men want her. Women want to be her’. On Monday a group known as Kilimani moms plan to go to the streets in their miniskirts to protest. And I will not be surprised to find the same men who complain about short skirts ogling, fighting for space at the windows of their offices and standing on the street to look. I think men should join in this protest. Just keep your miniskirts at home fellas. On a serious note, Lucy asks in the movie, "we were given this earth a billion years ago. What have we done with it?" It cannot be that this is what we do

Of Rabbits and Kingdoms

To paraphrase Mad Men’s Lou Avery let me begin by asking, how is everybody today? Ready for your routine read? Just open your mouths and say “Aaaah”

Dr. Rabbit is a five foot six, amiable, not exactly a broth of a lass but pleasant. She looks like a little psychedelic brunette perched on those drawings you see in gift shops without the trippy colors. In black and white

 

Usually when I meet someone I have designs on I use a line on her with enough cheesiness to make a meal and I make it a point of doing the old red blood cell impression , circulating and transmitting onwards the oxygen of the news from cell to cell (at this rate I may need a hormonal performance exam. I’m such a female!). By the time this goes to post my entire phonebook will have known I like a girl.

“Dr. Rabbit, I thought staring into the dentist’s light. Dr. Rabbit, what was I thinking of? Why am I taking it so slow?” “Because you just met her”, I answered myself “What am I frightened of? Why haven’t I said anything?” “Probably the big needle in your mouth”, I answered again. Needles and any other medicaments for that matter give me the willies.

Okay let me put this bottle of ‘Pavitra Rishta ‘back in the fridge and start from the beginning. Give it a little background. I sat outside the dentist’s office yawning convincingly at the dentist’s assistant every time she walked in and out. There was no queue and I knew I’d be called in but those of you who know me (Hi, madam receptionist) understand that I’m not a very patient chap. So I walked to the wall where there was a caricature of a Dr. Rabbit and the doc’s minion fighting plaque which had attacked the dental kingdom.

Assistant: John?

*I walk in*

Doc: Hi, John

Me: Hi. You must be Dr. Rabbit

Doc: No! Do I look like a rabbit??

I felt my face flush like someone had opened a valve around my ankles. So much for cheesiness and the meals they make. I couldn’t tell whether she was insulted or she knew what I meant. She did put the poster up or obviously seen it.

I can’t tell whether it was the numbed sense in my mouth that heighted my sense of smell or that she leaned in very close to get a good view of my teeth but I could smell her skin. It wasn’t like a can of perfume crawled up her shirt and died (hi again madam receptionist). It was subtle and nice. Body odor. She was very patient and impossibly lovely.

I want to see her again. Ride my white horse (or a number 15 matatu) back there. Luckily I have more cavities to be fixed. I don’t know how lucky that is.

“And I’m not Dr. Rabbit”, she says as I leave her office. This is what I saw

 

 

 

Letter to my 13 year old self

Dear young’un,

 

It’s me. Put down that Nintendo and crack a book once in a while. Learn things, even if you’ll be a boyfriend jacket aficionado your future depends on it. You’ll be glad to know that you didn’t turn into a statistic though. If you think Nesquick parties and stealing WWF wrestling magazines (Triple H will lose the sledgehammer and get a haircut BTW)  from the supermarket is a gas wait till you discover the contents of a certain brown bottle, a certain green bottle and a certain clear bottle shared with friends, girls and the bar heroes at Lumte’s wazee’s corner. Some of it is burning in my throat right now actually.  Go easy on that stuff, you don’t want to be writing ‘mwakenyas’ in 3^rd year of college using braille. Rita has peaked, you’ll meet her again in her 20s and she is a bit…uh, aesthetically challenged. I hope that’ll be some consolation when she breaks your heart.  Don’t invite her home!  even when she uses her feminine wiles. That thing she does with her nose? yeah. Mom doesn’t play that sleep over shit! Be good to mom and Mr. Dad. They lay down the law for your good. The idea she put in your head that whatever happens to us, they’d be there is true. Be nice to last born. That little rugrat is going to grow into such a tyrant so chum with her while it lasts. Human beings are startlingly honest at your age but as you grow older you’ll become an unnecessary liar (& no, it’s not because you are a Member of Parliament). Check that

Big school will be fun apart from the garden variety traumatic everybody experience of bullying in form one. Don’t be scared. Stop smacking your sister’s head against the wall whenever you fight then buy her silence with sweets. Yes, you will still be worrying about this in your twenties, there was no long term damage (I think!). You're under the wrong impression that girls don't eat as much as us or smell.

I’m writing from the year 2014. You’ll be disappointed to know it isn’t exactly the Jetsons but its several standard deviations beyond cool. Television is in color now and there’s this contraption called the internet where you can find anything. That’s where I’ll leave this letter for you. The phone fits in your pocket now. It’s called mobiles or the three in one mobile phone. Nintendo is a brick game compared to PlayStation. It doesn't even begin to cover it. You probably think I'm lying so you'll just have to wait and see. Life is simple. Enjoy it because it will seem more and more like a Chinese puzzle as you get older.

Age may not necessarily give you wisdom but it gives perspective. You may not be able to understand this but I’m I don’t know any way to dumb it down for your age. Over the couple of years since your time, I have looked as honestly into myself as I could have, found much that was not to my taste, found a little that was just plain bad but a lot that fits into what I want your future to look like. I hope it will make sense. Work in Progress, bro. Work in Progress.

One last thing. Move to Customs sooner, she’s there. You’ll know her when you see her

Yours Sincerely,

20 something year old self

Why men cheat

According to Wikipedia (when people are in a committed relationship) the definition of cheating is based on both parties' opinions, and both parties may redefine their understanding to match the party at an either lower or higher extreme of this definition. I am not even going to pretend that I understand that. Some may believe it’s an even money bet that a man in every home has at one point in his life cheated on his wife, girlfriend or boyfriend.  Gone are the days of mabati tin blueband and lasting marriages.  In an article titled ‘LADIES: It’s all your fault that he is CHEATING!’ one Njoki Chege wrote about this topic. You can find it here http://njokichege.wordpress.com/. I can only imagine women reading it going like “WTF WTF WTF”. You see Njoki and I have an arrangement where I criticize her post and she doesn’t know I exist so this is my criticism to hold my end of the agreement.  She begins with the question “Why does a man cheat?” and then goes on to advance what the ‘bar heroes’ at my local watering hole call ‘a spurious hypothesis’ that number 1, because the woman is fat. Personally, I love the chub and I know a few men who do too. Not a strong point from the lass.

I don’t know Miss. Chege so it’s obviously not personal but from the blog, she doesn’t strike me as someone ‘ameshika’ pages & is ‘spruced up’ like my friends the ‘bar heroes’ hence the ‘spurious’ hypothesis. The topic stays though. Why do men cheat? Here is why

 

Curiosity: Every cheating starts with a thought. From experience with other women you can know that Vera’s nice round derriere is cumbersome to handle in the sack or her ‘cereal box’ has the same taste of crunch and munch as the one you left at home but you still want to roam that terrain just to satisfy that curiosity you get every time she ‘pours’ it onto your twitter or Facebook. And at a certain age, probably your 20s, a man can be wildly avant-garde. Remember your college days? Yeah.

Character defect: you can find whatever character defect that you suffer from an A Anonymous Recovery manual. Some men though are ‘dry’ drunks. They exhibit x factors of a drunkard but are completely sober. Tabia mbaya tu! Greed, destructive behavior, deception… the list is endless. Some defects are as a result of a nagging wife always calling your phone and turning you into an unnecessary liar because the truth that you are irrigating your throat with the fellas gets you in trouble. Misplaced trust that it’s okay to do it because you are drunk. Alcohol addiction has therapy but don’t know if there’s something for character. Maybe if you just apply yourself you’ll kick it.

Long distance relationships: Fimbo ya mbali haiuwi nyoka. Distance is hard on any relationship. Strenuous to the point of breakup. 'Bamba 50' (and I'm not talking credit) can only sustain you for so long. A couple going through the motions and you both know it but neither one of you is brave enough to ‘free’ each other. A friend asked me once what love is and I told her it’s a free flowing energy. It comes and goes. It’s the comradery that keeps people together (In my experience

To defend their inferiority complex over women. I have not experienced this so I can’t speak to it. Douglas, share your story here

We want all and we want more than all: Men can never be satisfied. It’s known as the infamous wondering eye. Even if you get the perfect wife, you will still be searching. Going through comments on Miss Chege’s article, some give examples of women like Halley Berry being cheated on. Case in point?

‘Mouthing’: Emotional abuse, if I may call it that. She puts you down and talks down on you. Your neighbor and colleague buys a car and you haven’t. Suddenly he makes you look like a serious disappointment. “Mbona baba Nyiva amenunua na mulianza kazi pamoja?” Won’t you start paying attention to the mothering, secretary at your office?

So Njoki,  there you have it, if he is curious, has a character defect, has an inferiority complex, never satisfied and has a wife  mwenye  anapenda ‘mouthing ’need I tell you more why he’s been sexting Monika Lewinsky?

Masaku 7s

I won't pull any punches, I didn't like the experience & I don't think I'll attend another one in the foreseeable future. My social calendar is probably the least marked compared to Nairobi middle class folks anyway so it's not like I can say I have my weekends back. Back to unmarked it is. Masaku7s is part of Kenya Rugby Union's series of tournaments that includes, Dala in Kisumu, Prinsloo in Nakuru, Driftwood in Mombasa and Kabeberi in Nairobi all of which compose different legs of the circuit. Ratchets, beer, more testosterone than in a composite season of 24 and the Sopranos, girls in hot pants selling beer. You can imagine the ones with swollen pudenda! The men's twigs and berries must get ripe and ready, I know mine did;-). As my Marketing lecturer used to say, all advertising and promo is just over glorification of product but folks always post photos of Masaku7s that prove the promos live up to billing. What the French call a certain 'Je Ne Sais Quoi'. So I decided to show up and show out with Nairobi

 Being a Saturday, there was little traffic driving from Nairobi. New middle class car owners and kids with hires looking for death happily along Mombasa road. 1500 cc Wingroads overtaking my 1800cc fielder. Traffic jam build up stated from Machakos turn off (Makutano) moving to Machakos county office, the entire road was a parking lot. Toyotas and Subaru with blaring music, a drunk girl dancing on top of a Nissan xtrail and one jeep wrangler (upper middle class?) passed by that got cheers

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I needed food to make my life right because we had spend probably half a day driving 15 kms. We parked by the road and decided to take in the sights and look for a place to eat. My first visit to Macha'. Notable landmarks I saw include Naivas butchery, All souls cathedral, Mulu Mutisya h/way and Tea Tots hotel where we went in. After lunch (that pilau didn't stand a chance!!) and a few bottles of summit lager we got back on the road and finally got to the stadium. Got more beers and sat to watch the games. I can only remember Oslo because it was a predominantly and the only white team and their white water girls wore hot pants too. I have to admit the crowd was great. Big crowd means big noise. There is safety in numbers so it is fun

The after party was at the golf course (Oh Yeah, another landmark). Details are fuzzy but I do recall a female singing on stage, stopping a fight and necking with a stranger. Either I had been put to sleep  or my drunken person's auto pilot facility was improving with experience because I woke up in the car which was parked some 600 meters away.

typically middle class chap from Langata

The next time I woke up at around 3 I think and we were stuck in traffic. I woke up again at 8 and we hadn't moved. We arrived in Nairobi at around 12 after traffic finally eased. Good experience but this is definitely not my shindig. Next week, back to Lumte the local

What's on my reading list:

Good news Bible

Quote of the week;

"Don't bring intellect to the bar. That's a place for drug abuse and high libido"- My friend, Cain

a dozen drinks

Mayo clinic defines alcoholism as a chronic and often progressive disease that includes problems controlling your drinking, being preoccupied with alcohol, continuing to use alcohol even when it causes problems, having to drink more to get the same effect (physical dependence), or having withdrawal symptoms when you rapidly decrease or stop drinking.
 Mayo also describes binge drinking as a pattern of drinking where a male consumes five or more drinks in a row, or a female downs at least four drinks in a row — can lead to the same health risks and social problems associated with alcoholism. I couldn't find anything about using alcohol as a crutch. For a significant part of his life, my friend had been an alcoholic. He was one of those alcoholics who thought he was  a person of different sobriety and not the former and as long as he maintained sobriety of conduct  ("as long as situpi mbao", he would say) it was fine.


I had long ago concluded that he believed life revolved around football  and alcohol and that - especially under the influence of too much of the latter- sometimes it just revolved so I never tried matching him drinks for drinks. You don't need Mayo clinic to know that was an alcoholic or at least on the path to being one. He eventually saw the folly in denial and got into a cognitive behavioral therapy(CBT)  program three months ago. He came home today.  My other friend who is a chain smoker (this one likes his 'fwaka' like a problem) and womanizer asked him about the program and if he can recommend it. "Hiyo yako si addiction hiyo ni character defect"

So I decided to delete my bookmark to beer advocate.com and tapper off my drinking by substituting my beer with another narcotic called television and for the last one week I've been sitting comatose in front of the TV mindlessly consuming episodes of Hannibal (that chap can throw down in the kitchen though!!). On the upside, the lethargy from that is better off than from over imbibing. Whatever spurt of annoyance or stress or boredom that always leads me straight to the chilled glass pint of tusker, it turns to pixie dust (my mathee made sure my siblings and I read those castle story books of  Rumpelstilskin and snow white) and blows away the second I sip my froth. This is an upside to my tusker. The scales don't seem to tilt much for television so far

I bet my spot at the local watering hole, Lumte Bar Nyaru has been taken by now.

What's on my book shelf
Peter Taylor's Smoke ring: Tobacco and multinational politics (borrowed it from my smoker friend actually)

What's on my playlist:
They don't love you no more- Khaleed ft. Jay Z, Meek Mill and French Montana

Dumbest thing I've heard today:
"That explains why you drink a lot of tea, it's everywhere so you're trying to get rid of it" (When my cousin visited Kericho and saw the plantations)