The End Of Another Week

I now have a new found respect for bloggers based in the Baltimore area, namely people like Movie Buff, Msanii, Udi and any other unmentioned individuals. I just came across a commercial for a dealership over there and my oh my (some harsh language in the ad so Not Safe For Work!). If this is what ya'll are used to dealing with could you please come over and negotiate with my local car salesman?



In other news, I sent off my passport to the LA Consulate for renewal and got it back 4 days after I had sent it, I am most impressed. I can usually tell how efficient an organisation is by the way the phone is answered. I once called the DC consulate and it took several calls till the phone was answered and I was transferred from person to person this wasn't the case with the LA Consulate where the phone is answered really fast and all your enquiries answered without playing phone tag. A big kudos to the peeps in LA, has anyone dealt with the DC consulate lately? I'd like to know if things have changed.

A friend of mine went to a hotel in Chuka for lunch as he was doing research during the peak of the Rift Valley Fever Epidemic that had struck Kenya and asked how much a grilled chicken would, he was given the princely cost of 1,250/= shillings. After getting over his astonishment he decided to have a vegetarian meal, talk about pricing yourself out of the market; the only other places in Kenya you could pay that much for a meal of grilled chicken are in 5 star restaurants.

I was chatting to some pals of mine online and it is amazing how many of them have banished the thought of marriage to the bottom of their list of priorities. I think I will chat more to them about it and get their full reason, I have mine which I think I blogged about it. But it is interesting when a whole lot of "eligible" bachelors decide not to bother with marriage and long term relationships then you have a big group of players and no good chaps left for the women to sift through. That's life I guess....Have a nice weekend people!

Random Thoughts

I read this story on the BBC website and I must applaud the residents of the town for rising up against racism, sad thing is that is just shows how alive and well racism is among us. There are some people I know out there who are saying, " I told you those Europeans were all racists!" While there is another subset that is saying, "You see not all Europeans are racists!" Oh well you live and learn I guess.

After seeing the last episode of To Catch A Predator last week on MSNBC one swift thought came to mind. My in blue hell would any dude who doesn't work in the porn industry take a picture of his dick and even worse have it floating around online or post it. From the little I do know about women, is that they are not as visually oriented as men, so a picture of Mr Johnson isnt going to do much; as for sending such a pic to minors, that is just plain sick. I mean imagine taking a pic like that in your young days and passing it around then in your middle age deciding to run for office, the pic would show up and an inquest would open. I can see the picture being examined at a Commission and the incumbent being asked, "Mr XYZ is this your..........?"
Somethings should best be left to the imagination unless it's girl on girl action (ya'll knew I had to say that!)

There was this story that was in the Sunday Nation a few weeks back about this charlatan who was masquerading as a Pastor causing chaos and swindling gullible individuals. This snippet cracked me up!

Local Chief Grace Nduta told us that the "virginity oil" was mainly being peddled to barmaids in the area. "This was a hushed-up affair. We are told that the women were promised their clients would find them more appealing, after applying the oil in their private parts," said the chief.

"Even when we called a baraza to discuss these things, none of these women came forward to say that they had bought the oil, yet it is a common secret that barmaids were buying it."
Curiously, the oil in question is named Cremonini Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Closer observation of the container holding the oil revealed that it is supposed to be for "frying, deep frying salads, baking and grilling"

When I read that I wanted to crack a joke about something being deep fried, but let me keep it to myself after all learning that Extra Virgin Olive Oil doesnt live up to it's name must be humiliation enough to those involved.

Monday Malaise

The Standard has this interesting article about how the use of Kenya as a drug traffic conduit is slowly going to change Kenya into a nation of drug users. The interesting thing with Kenya is that other than the liberal smoking of weed and chewing of miraa (khat), the use of hard drugs ie cocaine isn't very prevalant unless you come from the down and out neighbourhoods or hang out with rich recreational drug users. It isn't like here in the States where over half of the people in jail are in for drug related offences and how some inner city areas have been brought to their knees by drug users and the crime that follows them.

This is both a good and a bad thing if you ask me. It is good to know that Kenyan law enforcement is doing what it can to stop hard drugs from entering the country but on the other hand the less hard evidence Kenyans see of hard drugs and there effects, the more blissfuly ignorant we shall remain. The best close example is the slow but growing alcoholism epidemic we have in Kenya. I had a Kenyan friend who works for an insurance company here and was talking to a client about their health situation so that they would consider the person for insurance coverage. So when it came to how much alcohol the person drank, the customer said they were an alcoholic; my friend in turn asked the person how many drinks per day he took. The client said X number of drinks per week, my friend put down the number but in her head she was thinking, "me and my friends drink that amount of liqour and more every weekend and we just fine."

The sad thing is that for most Kenyans as long as you are functioning you are not an alcoholic. You become an alcoholic when you everyday life becomes a mess due to your drinking; but if you can overindulge and function, you are fine. I think that is the same situation we have as regards drugs in Kenya, if we can't see the damage; then it's all good. I do sincerely hope that the cost of the hard drugs keeps them out of the reach of most Kenyans, young and old; we have enough problems as it is without having drug dealers, crack heads and broken families in the mix.

I was reading the New York Times when I came across an article by their travel writer called "36 Hours in Nairobi, Kenya." The article covered the usual tourist sites but what caught my eye was the paragraph below.

11) A QUICK LUNCH

After a stop in Jeevanjee Gardens, Nairobi’s equivalent of Speaker’s Corner (on a recent Sunday a muscular and aggressive preacher held forth on God’s love for street children), head across Moi Avenue for lunch at Topaz, a chicken and chips joint. It’s one of the city’s favorite greasy spoons, packed even in the middle of the night, and everything here is lovingly deep fried. A meal of chicken, French fries, sausage and a Krest Bitter Lemon soda will run you around 350 shillings.

So now I can proudly say that I was a regular patron at an internationally reknowned dining establishment!

Idle Musings 2

I was on the BBC website and it was good to see Mzalendo getting some positive and well written press once again. Kenyan press hardly ever seems to get stories about Mzalendo right if the ones I have read online via the two big dailies are an indication.

Much to 'tato's chagrin, I watched 300 before he did. All I have to say is that the movie is a sheer masterpiece and a feast for the eyes. It is a good lesson in what happens when movies stay true to their roots, be it a book or a comic; without letting Hollywood directors add their usual cliches into the movie. The Director of 300 actually modelled quite a few scenes of the movie from Frank Miller's comic book. For those of you who are curious enough, here is a copy of Frank Millers 300 comic book and you can see how it was transmuted to film. You need Comic Book Reader to read it, tell me what you think!

Before I bounce for the weekend, I just thought I would share this video from Martin before the show became really crappy. This was the episode where Martin and his girlfriend Gina decided not to have sex for a week so as to prove to themselves that their relationship was based on more than just sex. In the opening scene of this video Martin goes to bed with an ice pack so as to cool down his hard on so he doesnt think of sex, the first time I saw this on tv, my mum walked in and asked what was wrong with Martin. I didn't want to tell her the whole story so I told her that Martin had an injury he was cooling with the ice pack. Gina's "jogging suit" made my day! And don't forget the crotch convulsions! Line that I have to use one day, "We both love sex, so how is there no damn love?!" To my brother bloggers out there....Keep the lie alive!!!!!!!!!!!

H.I.P.P.I.E Part 2

After sorting out some logistical errors we ( The Acolyte and Couch 'tato aka Nick) apologise for taking so long before releasing this sequel. Without much adieu, we give you...H.I.P.P.I.E part 2! Ps This post is rated Mature!

Maggie got off her cell phone and sighed her voice heavy with emotion. She had just finished talking to her boo Timothy, her Timmy Wimmy. The conversantion was still fresh in her mind, " Timmy Timmy please Gimme Gimme some of that yummy yummy yummy"…you get the drift!Yup, her boo of 2 years who made her crave in ways she’d only read about in the salacious romance novels that she wasn’t supposed to be reading according to the Youth Pastor at church. She ached so hard that only ‘Deep Heat’ (and not the spray) could cure her! He’d been back from Canada for sometime now but she hadn’t gotten a chance to see him. As soon as he had flown in he went upcountry to see his relatives who demanded his presence when he arrived. So they hadn’t met, but she understood.

However, he could have at least made an effort she thought, goddamn it. He could have organized for a few moments somehow for them to be together. She was initially annoyed but decided not to let it cloud her feelings for him. The only thing she had to keep her going were the long sensual conversations they would have via their cell phones even though her credit would soon expire and they’d have to top up again with several 50/= scratch cards. Not romantic but it kept her going. The saucy texts with some spelling mistakes and annoying abbreviations didn’t hurt either. “Wd lk2 ks u mk luv 2u ova n ova.” Not creative or ingenious, actually even boring compared to what she had in mind but it’s the thought that counts she thought to herself. She had learnt the meaning of patience and finally tonight they were to meet. Tonight was going to be the night! No more fantasizing. No more banging in the castle in the sky. She sighed again with hope…as she flashed back to the past…

… The memories of the moments they had together. She could remember when they went to Tigoni as part of a Youth Ministry activity. She recalls how during the long hike one of the straps of her sandak sandals cut. Tim was walking behind her and had clasped her hard by her shapely waist and stopped her from falling. Like an angel he gave her his broad shoulder to lean on as she stumbled and took off the other sandal. She couldn’t forget how he stopped and tried to fix her sandal while the group receded into the distance. They tried to keep up with the group but the gravel that had been heated up by the noon sun made it hard to walk.

Tim picked her up like she was one of the PA speakers that he used to carry to the stage and connect before praise and worship. As he carried her, she laid her head on his chest the only thing coming between her head and his beating heart was the Gideon's pocket bible in his shirt pocket. She could inhale his male scent mixed with a hint of El Matador. She clutched onto him like a drowning man holds a lifesaver, stroking his arms that resembled chiseled oaks of manliness. She loved his strength. She loved the way he’d swooped her into his arms like the dainty gal she was. Breathing in sync, with him she was in heaven. Two hearts beating as one.

As he carried her they found themselves at point where the road divided into two. Which one to take? She asked Tim if they could use the path that would take them past the water falls. When they got close, they both sat down under the shade of some secluded trees.

How they talked to each other, the wonderful things Tim told her. She could not forget what happened next. She could still feel his hand on her face...her hair…her neck…the kissing…the nibbling of her lobes…the circling and kneading of her twin globes…both hands tweaking, flicking, pinching the peaks. The passion that ensued was Paradise! How they rolled back and forth with such hunger, held back by gigantic restraint from tearing each others clothes off. A wave of rapture! A kaleidoscope of raw emotion that activated each cell of each tissue of her entire body. She needed some sort of explosive release at that moment. If it was up to her she would have let him impale his manhood right there and then. She had been completely overwhelmed, more than this Church Choir girl had ever felt before. Her insides were growling like a wolf in heat. She was hot all over she felt she could she be erupting from within?

She snapped back to reality when an involuntary moan escaped her. She didn't want to attract any attention to her room, let alone her flushed face. The house was a bee hive of activity. Her parents were going up country and she was the only one being left at home; after John's misbehaviour at the cyber café, where he caused great embarrassment to his parents. His "incident" had become a topic of discussion at the different neighborhood Bible Studies after the cyber café attendant "shared" it as a prayer request. As a result, her parents had decided that they were going to keep an eye on him at all times and decided to go to the extent of taking him up country as they went to check on the construction of their retirement home.

She walked into the sitting room where she saw her father walking out with the final bag.
She was giddy with delight because she now knew that Tim could finish what he had started in Tigoni by the riverside. Her petals were ready to be plucked. Her rose garden was ready for harvest. The farmer could till the land, her earth was moist and the passion could bloom anytime.

Her mother started giving her some last minute directions, she talked about safety, spending money and the other things she usually used to tell the house help when they were going away. She thought she heard her mention Uncle Joe and Auntie Janet, but from what her mum had said one week ago they were going to go up country too, so she didn’t bother asking her mum to repeat what she said.

The image of her and Tim intertwined seemed to grow larger and larger in her head. She helped her mum put her last bag in the car and waved goodbye to them. She sprinted into the house with baited breath and her heart beating in her chest. She had told Tim that the house would be hers for the weekend and now that it was confirmed he could now come over and make her feel like a woman! She dialed his number and heard his manly voice on the line after 3 rings.

She asked him to come over and that she would be more than ready to receive him, he said he would be over in one hour’s time. She could not wait for that hour to pass, so she decided to prepare herself for Tim in a way he would never forget. She went to the bathroom and got hold of a jar of baby oil. She took off her clothes slowly and sat on the edge of the bath tub. She poured the oil on her body and began to spread it all over, concentrating on her ample bosom that she knew Tim liked if his last actions were anything to go by. After covering every inch of herself she perfumed her body with the Chanel number 5 she stole from her mother's closet. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her bush was evenly well trimmed, her long legs waxed. The mole on her left thigh was nice and prominent. Hear bum was nice and firm and round, bulging just right if the comments from the matatu touts where anything to go by. She knew she was going to do more than just please him. Though she didn’t know how the inner demon in her would behave, she tried to calm herself down.

She promised herself that she would not get caught up in the moment, she vowed to remember her first time and to make it last forever. She ached so hard she thought she would die. When she heard a knock on the door she almost passed out. “Finally it is going to happen!” she thought to herself. That was fast she thought, but she knew Tim's desire for her had speeded up his trip. She rushed to the door, posed by the edge seductively and flung it open. What met her eyes shocked her; it was her portly middle aged uncle Joe and his equally dumpy and dowdy wife. She saw his eyes grow as big as saucers while some drool ran down his chin. His crotch seemed to be gravitating towards her pecking at the zipper like a woody wood-pecker. (Pun intended!) All of a sudden Maggie couldn't breathe and her aunt's cries of shock and disgust sounded miles away. Maggie had just become a victim of H.I.P.P.I.E (Horniness Increasing People’s Problems ImmensEly )