Gay and Lesbian

The rock-bottom earthly truth is that most of us have their own (I do) thoughts about the gay and lesbian community. We talk about it in society, at home, at work, in church and I guess pretty much everywhere. The worst folk are the soapbox preachers in our social circles- People who thrive on their righteous belief that they alone have the world figured out. They cry out all sorts of songs and calls like, “it’s not Christian” or “our forefathers turn in their graves when man does that”

Personally, I haven’t had any interaction with the gay and lesbian community but my friend suggested that she would invite some of her gay friends to hang with us and I could get to know them.

This morning on the Maina and King’ang’I breakfast show, a caller had the nuts (no pun) to suggest that the entire community be rounded up and shipped to the United States (I assume he said this to allude to the fact that the American president supports them and most of the U.S society is more permissive to this) & the chap had many supporting call-ins? _?. It sucks balls (again no pun- OK, maybe a tad bit intended) when society turns into nothing but a deluded swarm of lemmings that most times end up drowning in the migration.

 

Whether a man dyes his hair kool-Aid purple or he contains extra colors within his emotional range, It’s whatever…don’t trip!

That said, I play for team crotch and I totally endorse women kissing each others face off

 

Nostalgia

   Initially I had mutura as the title for this post. That would have suggested that it is about the famous Kenyan tripe sausage delicacy but not at all. Even back in the day, I always had a problem with insha and composition titles (to this day it seems) so I used random words and sentences- I can imagine the look on my former English teacher if he’s reading this…. “So, this bugger used to write ‘whatever’ as a title just for the fuck of it?” Ok, maybe he wouldn’t curse but he was always an angry fella.

 Mutura is somewhere in this post though… just read along.

STOP the press (and social media too) because I have news!!

When I was younger, the received wisdom was that once you were over 40, you’d be stuck in your ways for life. Over the last couple of days, it’s like I’ve been stuck at a certain age (1960s and 70s there around). Folk tunes, oldies, UB40 and Gregory Isaacs samples are some of the records I play on repeat every day. These tunes have tugged my ear and I kopp every record I can lay my hands on. Now Playing ‘When I’m 64’ by UB40 as I write this.

 

I only patronize ‘local’ pub to chug my favorite froth and quite frankly I can’t remember the last time I went out dancing. No more pub crawl and hanging out in night clubs for me (at least for now). A sure fire way to always end up in the wrong shit is hanging out in night clubs till devil hours. Prinsloo is an example (read my earlier post). I remember leaving home the other day when my little sister said to me, “Kim,na leo umekaa ka Mbaba!” When I got out the door I took out my wallet to check my I.D… Lawd! 

My friend reassured me that I’m not getting old…. “It’s called Nostalgia”, she said.

 Nyama and tusker have always been my favorite diet. IMO, tusker lager is the best thing since sandwiches and inter racial porn. Occasionally, I’d recommend corona extra with lime if you want light beer and to convince your visiting mom that is soda stocked in the fridge. 

So every day I find my way to ‘local’ pub & butchery….. Watch news (during the 7 o’clock bulletin it is quiet since patrons are still sober so at least one can listen. By 9 pm, they’ve turned into political pundits and yell things like “Kibaki’s recent cabinet reshuffle stinks three ways to Sunday!!! Was jakom consulted? Did you know that the letter was cc’ed to Kenyatta?”), eat as I sip my lager and listen to the fish-cake stories of the old patrons. I should tweet Julie Gichuru to suggest some political analysts for Sunday Live (I see David Makali and Kipchumba Murkomen losing their jobs- my ‘muzungu’ colleague pronounces the name as ‘Murk Omen’- Dunno if he ever  realizes how that comes off).

 

After the fourth bottle, when I start ‘feeling’ (don’t laugh so hard, I have a low tolerance level) it ‘shows’ me mutura. Kenyan tripe sausage and goat soup is one delicacy I always penda whenever I get drunk. Restaurants make it real nice for you too, so try HashmiBBQ, best barbecue place. Goat soup laced with ‘pilipili’ is good for hangover … Old Kenyatta himself used to like thupu (Not to say that he was a drink person)-Nostalgia? Or old age for me-no? Don’t know if he loved his tusker as well but who doesn’t? _?. I haven’t the foggiest idea how to fix my meals so I eat out often, which can be expensive. Bummer!!(That’s a 70s word I like using-“old”, I can almost hear you say) *adding cooking lessons to my to-do-list*/ or I could just get a raise at work and keep enriching ‘local’ pub? On the upside, I get my thupu everyday

 

Then it gets late and I have to be home since it’s a weekday. If I haven’t finished my beer yet the bartender allows me to take it to go. “Hiyo utaamkia asubuhi breakfast, ukienda works,” he says (Don’t judge, I practice consequentialist theory anyway-based on personal desires, the theory renders different approaches to life as being equivalent, thus the life of a student who gets drunk every night is as admirable as that of a student who works hard for a scholarship if both follow their desire).

 

 Did I mention how much I penda this beer???

 I’m sure you have your own theory. My ‘nostalgic’ evenings always leave me heading home with a happy sigh. 

It’s supper time BTW- I could eat the absolute pants off some tripe sausage right about now!! (I know…..I know, I’m tripping balls with this mutura but you have to admit that it’s thoroughly delicious)