Two Fourteen

     When I was a kid, I was a very poor eater. Or so I am told. My memory does not go past yesterday. I am told I would put food in my mouth and not chew for like 30 minutes. The food would turn watery due to digestion by saliva and I would swallow only when my cheeks got tired or I got a slap. I hated food. I still hate some till today. Whatever food I have no memory ever eating as a kid I never eat even today. I hate tomatoes, pizza, burgers, yorghut, onions, a range of green vegetables... the list is long.      Then in class four I went to boarding school. Which in retrospect was a very young age to be put away, considering how my bro is now in class four and still cannot cross the road by himself. But I think I get Dad's point of view. It was less of a hustle for him.    Boarding is where I can say I learnt how to eat, among other things. I learnt how to eat quickly because we had a time limit. And I learned how to eat a lot because the P.E drained me like hell.      Then came

    After I hung up, I had to replay the phone call in my head because I had no idea what I had agreed to. You know your nephew is finished with primary school so he has to borrow you permission to become a man? Oh, Yeah. No Problem So you will be there on Saturday? Sure no problem. For those that still think we use a piece of rock     I have to stop picking calls when I am preoccupied with something else. I am not good at multitasking. No really, I am not.       It took me a while to get what my cousin was going on about. I am my nephew's uncle. That I knew. So why should I give him permission to finish school. Is this a custom I had skipped? I don't remember doing that shit when I finished Class 8. All I did after finishing my K.C.P.E  was... oh wait. Oh shit.     My nephew needed to ask my permission to become a man. Now I got it. Nigga was going to get circumcised. How did I not understand that? Oh yeah, I did not do that traditional stuff. All I remember is Dad waking me a

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This post is continued from here (The tales of the wretched soul hunter) . It might be good for continuity’s sake to read that post before this.         Just when I thought I had something clever to say she and her friend stood up. They had arrived at their destination. She said a quick thanks and alighted, leaving me without telling me her name and feeling like I wasted a chance of a lifetime.       My friends however seemed to disagree. Some even insisted that it was she that wasted a chance to steal my phone. Because I am oh so stupid. Handing out my phone  to a a girl just because I thought she was hot! I deserved to be stolen for. Apparently I am very gullible when it comes to chicks I imagine as hot or pretty. I of course do not agree but they sort of had a point. What if she had taken it and threw it out of the window to her on waiting friend? What then? Could I have hit her? Could I have screamed thief while pointing to her? Who would have believed me, a thin awkward looking t

    Got this post from one of the blogs I am subscribed to  . I just had to reblog it. Permission has been borrowed of course) All about sex I arrived in Jeju yesterday afternoon and caught a quick nap to make up for a lack of sleep throughout the overnight flight. When I woke up, it was already past 4pm and I decided to visit a nearby attraction before the sky darkens. A quick look at the map and I found my destination - Jeju Loveland. Check out their welcum sign Opened in 2004, Jeju Loveland is a park with 140 sex-inspired sculptures. And I do not mean scultptures that are vaguely shaped like sex-related products or actions and which require much pondering to understand what the sculpture is trying to say. At Jeju Loveland, the sculptures whip their messages right in your face. I was greeted before the entrance by a marble replica of my best friend: They even have this phallus statue ready to shoot. Veins and shiny head. I was so tempted to strike a more vulgar pose, say, one that in

     I did my laundry on Saturday and Sunday. The chore left me very weekend(!). I have no closet so I just dump my clothes on a suitcase that is on the floor. I do not do anything fancy like folding or colour coordinating them. I just pile them up in a heap. That proved to be a problem today because now I cannot tell between my clean clothes and my dirty ones. Which could mean two things. (1) I did not wash my clothes that well or (2) My dirty clothes are not that dirty anyway. I decided it was the latter. I have all my 'panties' up in a bunch     My sister is on holiday. Done with high school. And this time we pray for higher grades. We had her go to a school that had performed well in the previous years and so we think she will do well. At least that is what I hoped, until she told me something interesting today.      I have been to that school of hers. On days that I have remembered that it's her Visiting Day. It is hideous! the walls are peeling off, desks are just fir

    I was recently informed that my blog takes too long to load. When I had this I was very shocked. What, you mean even you read my blog? I got to be careful how far this shit spreads because if people who shouldn't, get's a wind of it, I am done. Anyway. Thing is, I wasted a lot of time customizing this template. I am not good at this webdesign shit so I am not going to try and change it anytime soon. I don't make money off this blog so you can feel free to view it through other channels other than this address. You can, for instant, try reading it from Facebook by liking my page . Or you can subscribe via Email or those funny feedreaders now that Google reader is f'd up. You can use Wordpress  although I take a while before I  sync them. You can add ?m=1 to the address to switch to mobile site if your phone does not automatically convert the page. Or, and this is by far the best, you can use the new views that blogger's got. Personally I like Magazine view best,

     I boarded the minibus at around seven O'clock. I figured it may not get me closest to The House, but it was roomier than than the 14-seater vans that could. I hate getting my legs crushed behind the seats of these small matatus . One of the few perks of being so tall. I feel like a contortionist trying to fit on the back of these vans. Matatus: The minibus next to the van      The minibus was almost full with the remaining seat being next to this man that was the size of a van. This nigga was huge. He put the human in humangous . He was taking up both seats and I guessed he was only going to pay for one. That image reminded me of a matatu sticker: ' Sisemi wewe ni mnono lakini u kikalia viti mbili lipia' . Which loosely translated is the opposite of  'if you are sexy and you know it clap your hands'. Meaning: big fat ass guys taking up two seats in a matatu should pay for them both. I, personally, am not in tune with this line of thinking. Unless they also s

  I bet you don't know which movie these pictures are from. And you have probably watched it. beautiful Tanzanian sunset beautiful Tanzanian elephants beautiful black and white donkeys 'What the fuck are you looking at?'

       I was seated at one end of my fave fast food joint and was staring at myself at the mirror smiling. Not like I enjoy looking at my reflection or anything but there was something about what I saw that just made me smile. It was 7.00 in the evening and that was my first meal of the day. From the moment I woke up, I had not put anything in my mouth, even water. I had gone to school and back, not even once did it occur to me that I had to eat. And now there I was, in that restaurant, with my plate of bhajia . I had just taken my first bite when I noticed my reflection on the mirror. My lip was bleeding. I had not even opened my mouth wide enough and my lip just stretched past its elastic lip and tore. For some reason, that made me smile.       I have an eating disorder. There is something I have never said out loud. Not because I live in denial. I have just figured it out. Or maybe I have been living in denial. I don't know.      I can be starving but ignore food if when I have