Two W.E.A.K Dudes

i come here with trepidation. its been a while, a long while. i really feel sorry for all my loyal readers, all 2 and half of you. but the blame should solely be placed at the doorstep of that damsel known as twitter. she seduced me like a professional seductress, i gave in and i have never looked back, well thats up until now. i missed you u know. twitter wont let me rumble like you always did/do, so am back and am back for good.

while i was away, i saw things like a kiosk advertising airtime for wholesale and RENTAL. yes, R.E.N.T.A.L. i was certainly not missing the opportunity to have some airtime rented out to me and so in i went only to be told the chap working on the airtime rentals was away on sick leave and no they could not explain to me how this was expected to work, and could i please come back next week when salim is back. i was dejected.

and while i was away, i chanced upon my cousin going for his introduction ceremony and not one to miss out on a party, i quickly, in tandem with my local dobby*, organised my kanzu and suit. i have to tell you this was one heck of a dramatic day. lets start with the dobby.

my dobby is special, he will rent out yo clothes even 30 minutes before you are due to pick them, anything to make a quick buck. anyway on that day, i gave him my kanzu to iron since UMEME was being well UMEME and i decide to go take a shower in the meantime. 15 minutes later am at his office only to find him haggling with some chap who wanted a kanzu for the day and all this time he is pointing at MY kanzu and telling the chap how he needed to stamp up real cash if he wanted that particular nice kanzu, i was flabbergasted! i threw a tantrum and refused to pay the douche canoe his bisaatu.

fast forward, and we are at my cousin’s place packing stuff and generally just making asses of our hungry selves. i had vowed not to eat till the ceremony, bad idea, really bad idea. someone had suggested a rolex and while the thought was enticing, the stand was far enough to arouse bumwittery with in me, and so i decided to wait it out.

fast fast forward and we are driving to my cousin’s damsel’s place in kiira. of course there was drama on the way as well. half way through the journey my jalopnik had enough and informed me in no uncertain terms that it was going no further than najeera. apparently its body work was too dainty for such a rough road. i tried to sweet talk it, coax it, hell even threaten it but it was having none of it. it even farted some stray things from behind just to make its point. by this time, buckets of sweat were pouring down my body and my kanzu had somehow found its way up and wound itself around my head, taliban style. blooming DMC. anyway, one of my numerous cousins came to my rescue by inviting me to ride shotgun with him. and off we were to that place that was too much for my dainty jalopnik. by the time we got there, i had cooled down sufficiently enough to look cool but hungry. The hunger was too much i began eyeing the gifts we had carried longingly but my cousin saw the look in my eyes and immediately pulled me as far away from the gifts as possible. bloody party pooper.

faster forward, and we are finally in the tents having been made to wait outside in the sun for a whole hour. and yes the hunger was eating away at me, i could feel it dig its fangs deeper and deeper every single time it decided to have a bite. and just when i felt i could not take it any longer, i turn sideways to gaze outside at the skies one last time and perhaps make my last kicks, only to notice the bride’s gift right next to me. it had lots of chocolate in it. i looked at the groom right in front of me, he was engrossed in looking at his bride like it was the last time he was seeing her. i looked at all my cousins around me, and the one who weren’t snoring, were silently emitting gases that i at some point thought were going to blow up our tent. and so with renewed vigour, i simply plucked out one of the chocolate bars. however, the (un)wrapping proved to be my undoing. every one woke up/turned to look at me as soon as i started unwrapping. everyone demanded a piece, including the groom and for some reason everyone thought i had carried my own chocolate, and so i stole two more and everyone was happy once again and there were no more emissions, thankfully, seeing as it would be very bad mannered of us to blow up a tent, especially one that was in a place where we were only visitors.

suffice to say i was awake and fully alert, when my cousin declared an ending love for his bride. or maybe it was unending love, one cannot be sure as there were no subtitles afforded to us. i was also awake when one of my cousins suggested that since we had parked so far from the house, we shouldn’t be surprised if we find all the cars vandalised and all the gifts we had carried taken. cue ten or so odd males in different shapes and sizes lumbering towards the parking lot in their kanzus as if they were dying to pee

oh, i also somehow managed to make it to namboole to see the mighty UG Cranes whip ass. and that my dear loyal 2 and half readers is a story for another day!

* a dobby is a human washing and ironing machine in Uganda.

you know it makes absolutely no sense!!!

am outta here!

ps. salutations to my cyber love in the land of the small people

i was (and still am) worried about coming back to this blog after a long hiatus. i didn’t/don’t think i still have it in me to be funny online, seeing as am finding it even harder to be funny in real life nowadays. even i don’t find my own jokes funny anymore and yet i persist in telling them, urghhh!!!!!!

i digress. so yeah, i had a somewhat funny weekend and thankfully this time it was not me attempting to be funny. that honor went to a chap called samson.  see samson is one person who you will look at and just burst out laughing for no apparent reason. its not that he looks funny or anything like that. if anything, he’s quite a dapper and serious fellow. the kind that works in a bank all day and then walks into the bar for a drink at 6pm swinging his car keys, a car that is forever in the garage.

but samson is absolute gold to hang around. always have you in stitches. i guess thats why when most of us who know him take one look at him, we are instantly on laughter’s death bed. still doesn’t explain why i burst out laughing the very first time i met him. maybe its something to do with his ears. it is a difficult job describing samson’s ears. lets just say that describing them as asymmetrical would be a great injustice to asymmetry, and don’t let me start on his head. as for the nose, well its truly a breathing apparatus. you could be forgiven for thinking, it was just stitched onto his face and whoever did the stitch job did a lousy job. the apparatus was left hanging without any proper direction in which to point. suffice to say, sometimes i have dreams of him, waking up in the morning and just plumping his nose onto his face without any further adjustments, before running out to work. and i thought i had a nose.

and yet, thats not why we find samson funny. no, the reason we absolutely love hanging out with him is because he is bound to do something funny, especially when he is drunk. and for that reason, he never buys his own drinks, not when we are around. i would need to write an entire book to tell you about all the funny escapades we have been through courtesy of samson. however, i shall only regale you with one that happened this weekend.

we happened to get invited to a private party somewhere in town even though as usual non of us knew the host but rather friends to friends of the host, not that that was goin to stop us, after all, we had official invites. also, the reason we were invited is because they knew we would come along with quite a number of girls to liven up the party. with free drinks promised, we were not missing this for the world, especially seeing as we were in the company of a one samson who as always was left to swinging his car keys in the back seat of another car as we headed out to the party. we had however, forgotten to mention to samson that sandals were not allowed at the party mostly because non of us had noticed him wearing sandals for the first time since early last year when some chic noticed his toes and said they reminded her of cassava shoots.

anyway to cut the long story short, by the time we got to the venue, samson was already on a high and hence he wanted to be the “boss”. so he confidently staggered to the entrance only to be told by this big burly bouncer twice his size that unless he got on a pair of shoes, there was no way he was going in. so we decided to talk to the bouncer on his behalf but even our collective charm-and it was quite a lot of 1k notes ) - could not get him in. samson in his state then decides to try and barge his way through, much to the chagrin of the bouncer who just pushed him onto the ground. the girls found this funny. samson did not, hence his decision to let his right hook try and do the talking for him. i say try, because as soon samson’s hand flew towards the bouncer’s face, he realized what an ass his hand could be and how much trouble it could get itself and him into. and so with his left hand he tried to pull, claw and hold it back. i have never in my life seen one hand try to stop the other hand from doin something stupid. normally, the second hand is bound to join in on the stupidity and even offer help and support. but not samson’s hands. no sir. i think they have it in for each other, something to do with one having much better looking nails than the other due to his admittedly poor nail biting skills.

and so samson watched on in horror as one hand tried to claw the other back, while the other was so determined to carry on being daft. to his relief, the pulling and clawing sort of worked and his right hand only landed onto the shoulder of the bouncer. (though to this time i still insist it was mostly because the bouncer was so huge, samson’s hand would never have reached his face or even done any damage)

one or two of us tried to dissipate the awkward moment with some uncomfortable laughter, and much to our and mostly samson’s relief, the burly man found it funny and eventually let samson in.

moral of the story: its always fun to hang out with samson and see some of the silly stuff most of his body parts get up to. take for example his nose when he…..oh crap, gotta get back to work!!

am outta here!! you know it makes no sense!!!

anyone who knows me knows that i absolutely love texting. honest. i consider it one of life’s greatest pleasures and when i find someone (of the opposite sex) that enjoys it as much as i do, i could marry her so i can make up missing our wedding just because i was watching football to her by texting her my vows on the saturday we are getting married. i especially love the morning after drunken texting, when you wake up to realize you sent the most absurd and daftest texts to that girl who just will not respond to your sheepish advances. whatever makes you think she will respond to drunken you, i  have no idea but the regret mixed with the shock at the load of bollocks you sent while drunk more than makes it up for it.

i must say, however, that with the current advent of telecom companies pushing the whole 3/= per second thing up our asses and into our phones, this whole texting thing is going to the dogs.  most people i know now would rather call you than text….boring boring boring!! but thats a post for another year.

this post is about last night….and texting. after a few months without full blown out-oh my goodness-she’s sooooo good and flexible-check her out-this is mind blowing texting with someone, i had finally found the one. this pretty little thing can comfortably out text any of friends, totally!!!!! and so for the past week or so we have been going at it like rabbits, and it has been so refreshing and amazing and it had not yet gone stale. i was certainly of the view that i should enjoy it while it lasted because whether you like it or not, it always grows stale and the mere thought of it makes you switch your phone off.

anyway, last night we are it again like two teenagers that have just discovered it. it was good, heading on to mind blowing and i was so up for the ride.  at the same time i was also doing it with some friend of mine and it was exciting how i was trying to balance it out with two different people. my texting mojo was on full blast.

so there we are doin it and doin it and its getting intense, when i ask the one what she was up to. she reliably informed she was cooking but we still keep on doin it like our lives depended on it. there i am laying my game on, bringing my swerve on, trying to make it last forever and getting in the zone when she suddenly asks me DO YOU WANT SAM????

my heart froze with trepidation, a million things swirling through my mind, but most importantly i was thinking, do i want sam?? by golly after all the game i was laying on her how could she ask me that? what did she mistake me for, huh?? sam??? freaking sam???? and if you have not yet put 3 and 7 together, sam was the other person i was texting. i felt hurt, embarrassed, violated and all those things am bound to think in such a situation. how could i want sam, tell me, how could i?? and so with righteous indignation i refused to text back.

turns out, she meant to ask if i wanted some of what she was cooking. goddamn texting language.

am outta here, you know it makes no sense!!!

once again the title makes me feel like am writing a comprehension essay in primary school. but be that as it may, i finally lumbered over to the doc this weekend after my usual ways couldn’t get me a way out of a visit to the doc.

now, i normally don’t do doctors, i’ll either self diagnose (yeah yeah yeah, i know its wrong but do i look like i give a rat’s fart) or go to some vet uncle of mine. i’l then proceed to give him a list of my symptoms before he then normally correctly diagnoses me. this has perfectly worked for me for the last many years. i shall have you know that i have nothing against doctors, heck my uncle is a doctor, though admittedly he doctors cows and goats but who cares, at least i dont.

so anyway, last week i just wasn’t feeling right, the self diagnosis didn’t seem to be working and my uncle was in some deep village poking into goats’ rear ends and diagnosing them, hence my visit to who (what) passes for the family doctor on saturday. this is one chap who prescribe meds to last an entire month just to treat the cold. if you are a sleeping pills junkie, he’s your guy. so since i knew it was more than the cold on my case and i didn’t want meds to last me a few months, the first thing i told him as soon as he was done with diagnosise was that i didn’t want to do any meds because i would never complete the dose. he did look pretty disappointed as he looked at his pen like he just couldn’t believe it had been deprived of the opportunity to scribble down 3 months worth of prescription.

anyway, even after finding out there was really nothing wrong with me despite all the malaria symptoms, we settled on injections (just to be safe according to him). i really don’t mind injections as long as its not this particular doc administering them and lucky for me his very cute nursing assistant was on hand to give me my first taste of injections in years. not that i felt it anyway, because one second i was lost in her very long and soft fingers massaging the spot she was going to inject and the next she was telling me she was done. done?? what??? i just couldn’t believe she was in and out so fast i barely felt her do her thing. it felt good though, i just didn’t expect it to be a five second job. so when she told me to be there at midday the next day, i was there 30 minutes early. and this time she seemed to enjoy it too because she did take her time massaging the spot with those fingers before doing the deed. anyway yesterday after our session, i tell her i can only come in the morning on monday seeing as i had to be at work, so she told me to come in at 8.30am.

and so this morning, i head over to the clinic before heading to work. i walk in and she’s not seated at her spot, but i think nothing of it and head straight for the injection room with a spring in my step, i mean after all there’s nothing as good as a butt cheek massage before heading off to work, right?

imagine my horror when i find that its the doctor and not the cute nurse that was going to inject me. and the syringe he was holding, my goodness!!!! am sure it was the normal syringe but in his hands it looked like he was holding one of those injections they use on cows and he didn’t seem like the type that massages the spot first, not that i would have agreed to it. anyway the sight of that huge syringe in his hand, coupled with the grim look on his face was enough for me. my teeth began chattering while i broke into a cold sweat. this only made things worse because somewhere in the depths of my mind i heard him say that it seemed like i was getting worse and i might need to have two injections. the thought of being injected twice with that syringe was giving me daylight nightmares and my butt cheeks were quite in agreement coz i could feel them freeze and sending a message upwards, like “dude, yo in this alone, aint no way we are part of this!!!” stupid things, did they think they were goin to grow sudden feet and run off my body.

suffice to say i was scared shitless but in a very confused and broken way (heck, i couldn’t even understand half of what i was saying) i was able to convince him that my butt couldn’t take anymore of the injections. i think i told him it was swollen or something and meds would be the better option. at the mention of meds, the grim look disappeared off his face and once again he was back to the jovial chap i know when prescribing meds. and now i have with me a months worth of tabs to pop.  if only the darn nurse had told me she comes in at 9, urghhhhh!!!

moral of the story: if this particular doc has no cute nurses to do the injecting for him, am sticking to self diagnosis and my vet of an uncle

you know it makes no sense. am outta here!!!

testing testing…..or should that be tasting tasting…..

*if i had some wings, i would fly you all around;

if i had some money, i would buy you the goddamn town; *

hi phoebe, esquire, etc

and yes, this means am right (write?) on course for regular programming starting this week.

* respectfully ripped from michael mcdermott’s lantern. best goddamn poem i have read in a while

i thought about going out to buy you a gift but i was at a loss. thought about getting you flowers, but on days like this, they are overrated mostly coz you’ll get a bunch of them anyway or maybe i could just say, money is tight, times are hard  so i decided on the next best thing, or rather the best thing, so here goes…

entering mushiness mode,

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Done!

while still in mushiness mode {

so its birthday time i see

time to flaunt your loveable huggable self, fairy of the moon

so here is to hoping you will be as majestic as the goddess Hera

and that tonight as you celebrate, the moonlight will be reflected in your playful eyes

may you be as radiant as a confection from the gods

a unique constellation of attributes!

so go forth today and shine like a diamond, and smile that smile

some people like sunday others like monday

me, well any day will do as long as its your birthday!

}

exit mushiness mode

Done!

now back to regular programming, which basically means i shall be posting when i can be arsed!!

i thought about titling this as “my little cousin” but then it reminded me so much of those  primary school days when they would ask us to write a story about our holidays or about sports day (or some other weird event) in english class.  cue almost the entire class having titles like “my holidays in the village”, “holiday” , “sports day”. some daring ones would at least have something refreshing (at least i hope so anyway) like “the food i ate in the village until my stomach burst” or “how i fluked glucose on sports day”. anyway i have totally forgotten what i wanted to say about the title because all those memories have crowded my mind and i just cannot wipe away the sheepish grin i have on my face right now, but i shall at least tell you about my cousin, the little one that is!

so, i happen to be a neighbor to my uncle and his family of one son and a recently very pregnant wife. i say recently, because now she aint pregnant anymore, she gave birth on saturday to a supposedly beautiful girl. i have seriously in all of my life never seen a beautiful newly (one day) born child. heck even i in all my current awesomeness was never a beautiful newly born baby but i digress.  it so happened that on saturday morning when my aunt started feeling the first of her labor pains, she was home with only her son, my uncle having traveled upcountry. to cut the long story about her getting dropped at the hospital and stuff short, i was left to baby sit my little cousin while i waited for his dad or uncle to come take him to his granny.

now, you probably need a little background about this chap just so you can know how much fun or trouble i was in depending on how you look at it. this is a guy who at two and a half years old once walked into the house on a very hot day with no one around and found me in the buff strutting my bollocks around the place and basically just bumming around. he subsequently went back home and patiently waited for shower time. soon as he was done, he calmly told his mum he didnt fancy wearing any clothes. of course she insisted and he in turn of course threw a tantrum wondering how can they could let me do it while he had to suffer with clothes. needless to say, i spent a couple of weeks without making myself visible to his parents.

this is also a chap who once embarrassed me at a family function. see, he was chilling with me at the table when he spotted some fine young thing he could go and play with or rather bully, and off he was not to be seen for the next couple of hours. i was glad to get rid of him but if i had known then what i know now i would have gladly had him at my side the entire time. the next time i laid eyes on him, my graduating cousin was in the middle of giving a speech to a very silent crowd. this little dude timed his appearance to perfection. my cousin had paused to look at her speech notes, when the little man came out of the house attempting to run with his pants half way his legs and repeatedly screaming at me ” em, em, eeeeeeeeemmmmmmmm, i waaaaaaant to puuuuuuppppuuuuu!”  nuff said!!

there, you have it. thats the background to my now 3 year old cousin, imagine what i had coming my way on saturday when his mum showed up with a small bag containing his clothes and asked me to baby sit him for a couple of hours till his dad picked him up. i was still in bed at that ungodly hour of 7.30am and was hoping for another 2 or 3 hours of joyous sleep. wasn’t to be, coz as he soon as he walked in he came straight to my bed and the questions began raining down on me. this dude asks so many questions you get to the point where you just make yes and no sounds to his questions mostly because you’re either tired of answering every damn question he asks or you just do not comprehend what the heck he is on about. mostly its the latter. i dejectedly got out of bed and hoped turning on cartoons would silence him as i went about my saturday chores. he watches tv for 5 minutes, decides cartoons are not for him and demands for bukedde tv. i was astounded by this request but i later found out he wanted to watch a kibanda* style movie. i was even more shocked, but fortunately for me, there was one running. this managed to placate him for the next half hour while i sat there and tried to figure out a way of getting my huge laundry pile done without doing it myself. turns out short of hiring a dobbi, i had to do it myself.  long story short, i dive into doing the laundry with gusto even i didn’t think i possessed that morning only to be interrupted by the little man who figured he could help me out by blowing soap bubbles, spilling water all over the place and shooting me with his water gun and insisting i die right there and then on the wet floor and then trying to revive me using cpr by wetting my face with his saliva. he was having one heck of a time…….till he got hungry.

the hunger led to a number of demands. first he wanted samosas, which were duly delivered and demolished in no time. then he ate bread, mangoes and bananas in no particular order. next up was fried cassava and it  had to be sizzling hot. so we head to the cassava chap and ask him to do the damn thing. i figured i mite as well get some my self so we bought enough cassava for two adults. since it was hot, i suggested we let it cool down a bit while i finished up some chores. the little guy was having non of it. he insisted it cools down where he could see it and i gave in…i shouldn’t have! i was away for only 30minutes trying to clean up the mess he had singlehandedly caused in the sitting room, by the time i came back there was absolutely one stick of cassava left. this chap, who happens to be the tiniest 3year old i know had done damage where none was expected…..i was in awe!

the cassava was a blessing in disguise or so i thought, coz within half an hour he wanted to sleep. i tell him to go to my bed and sleep, bad move. within 10minutes my towel, duvet and pillow case were strewn all over the floor and he had somehow gotten a hold of my katala phone and was busy trying to smash it with a shoe brush just so he could get to the torch within. good thing the shoe brush is plastic. i banished him to the sitting room where he gloomily sat in front of the tv watching music videos, that is, until a hot chic shaking her butt for the camera came on. he was so excited he screamed at me to come watch this girl just proving beyond a shadow of doubt that he is his father son. i found him glued to his seat and the tv not moving an inch and so mesmerized by the moving butt with a wicked smile on his face like he was daring the bum to just come  off the screen and into the sitting room.

dude finally began pining for his dad six hours after he had been left behind. i call the dad who asks me to drop him off at my other uncle’s place in nsambya. so i go through the drill, get him ready and raring to go. just as we are approaching the stage and am thinking just maybe i’ll make it for my appointment, he asks, nay, demands to go back home so he can poop.  well, in his defence, he had eaten lots of different stuff ranging from g.nuts to  mangoes and probably needed to go there and then.

and just to show me that there were no hard feelings between us, when i handed him over to my other uncle, he cried and insisted i stay around or i go with him. and that people is my little cousin. *sigh*

am outta here, you know it makes no sense!!

*kibanda style movies are movies shown in uganda in mostly wooden shacks with translation into luganda.  however this translation is not necessarily reliably accurate!!!

she accuses me of being inconsistent in my blogging. i tell her am consistent in my inconsistency. does she think just coz she wears funky purple dresses i’ll give up my famed consistency….get a book to read woman

today i mark 11 days since making one of the most important decisions of my life.  i decided that abstinence preachers do have a point after all.  a few weeks before i made the decision, i was prone to bouts of feeling like the worst person in this world and i felt sick like my health was really going down the drain.

so i decided to make one of the bravest decisions i will ever make, i decided to go down the abstinence route. i even had a talk with my mum and she felt it was the right decision. she’s a star, my mum, i tell you.

so for the past 11 days i have been pure, untainted, unmolested and all those fancy words you can find to mean that i have been abstaining. but how much longer?? am suffering from withdrawal symptoms, and i can assure you, things are tight. i wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and shivering at the same time like a crazy dog, groping around for my fix, then i remember my vow of abstinence. urgh.

how do i manage??? well i joined these guys and even if some of them have since fallen by the wayside, (DK am looking at you) i must say things are somewhat looking up. they have awesome reading material to keep you in check.

however, for those of you who want to join me in this endeavor, i must warn you. it is a battle am certain am going to lose. do you know why?? no?? well, i’ll tell you. see, the temptation is right in my face. every morning i find it outside my office, smiling seductively at me, thrusting itself at me and it will not leave till about 9pm. sometimes on fridays and saturdays its there the whole night.

yes, i have not tasted a rolex* for the past 11 days and counting, halleluyah, but….

how much longer can i hold on, i need divine intervention coz the rate at which the rolla* dude keeps smiling at me every morning and asking, “uncle, i bring one up?” is dizzying. am only human after all and not even the threat of too much cholesterol looks like it will keep me away from the stand much longer.

ah, RAA i need help

ps. * rolex or rolla is a ugandan delicacy prepared by rolling two fried eggs in one or more chapatis hence the name. however, please note that the rolex art in uganda has been so re-defined to not only include eggs but lots of other things like minced meat, chaps and the like. i think

pps. am shivering from all this abstinence and i thought it was supposed to be a good thing, am dying here people.

am out. you know it makes sense!

i was looking through my drafts and i came upon what i consider an important post and i will tell you why i consider it thus. see, it was the first post in a long time for which i had a title before i began writing it and i was in my zone till first DATANET and then UMEME sabotaged it. now everytime i look at it, i cannot for the love of me complete it. blame them two suckers. also i might have mistakenly deleted about 5 comments so lulu, joliea and the rest, my bad!!!

ok, now that that is outta the way, i still have to let you know that i absolutely do not know what this post will be titled but suffice to say, whatever title i come up with will probably not be connected to the post.  i have not been this funny in a while….yes sleek am blowing my own trumpet, sue me!! how else am i supposed to get pips to read my blog :D. and just you know, this post will be written with a little imp that i have aptly named “imp” on my shoulder every time i even consider goin mushy on y’all.

first things first, well more like third things (can i say that?). people, jason and i are not one and the same. we might be in the same air band, play drums together, hang out together but we are totally different personalities heck, we aint even twins so Darlyne, Spartakuss, sleek and y’all just chill out. though i must admit all you guys have met him, unfortunately for you, you really never figure it out.

ok, imp has gone for a glass of water, so…just the other day, she (don’t ask who she is, she already knows who she is) was in this black dress. simple but very cute and stylish almost as if it was straight out of a magazine photo shoot. it made her look del…..cripes, imp let go of me. you know i got to do this, its the difference between one or two bottles of wine at the end of this month. gosh, i even forgot the word i was about to use to crown it off….i will remember!!!

lately, i have been seeing all these posters advertising music shows every single day of the week even on mondays. i actually think if it were possible, these chaps would add an extra 3 days to the week to accommodate all their shows. just when you are trying to save up for Fred Sebbata on Friday night, you hear that ssebale is going to do his thing on saturday night leaving you wondering why the heck you were never part of any CHOGM deal. just as you are getting the ssebale dimes, some radio station says they are doin an all nighter at nakivubo with all your favorite kadongo kamu artists, which means on monday morning you have to call into office and say you have food poisoning as if simply saying you have diarrhea is the most embarrassing thing in your life, forgetting you have just been at nakivubo. anyway the point of this story is to literally laugh at some of these artists’ names. these are just three of the names that i truly found hilarious, know any others??

ragga pimpin’- what kinda ragga is he pimpin??

dizzy nuts- i would hate to be the nuts in question!!

nutty nuts- i had no idea nuts could actually lose it and go nuts…literally!!

and while we are still with names, i know someone who knows someone who heard from someone that someone told them that another someone…oh crap, too many someones. confused? no worries, i also got confused by this someone chap who just seemed to be all over. but anyway one of the many someones’ family named a dog puppy. the first time i had the story, i died.  puppy is now a big dog, but he’s still called puppy. its akin to naming yo new born child, baby. he grows up to be a man and he’s still called baby. they should have just named him dog (the dog not the baby, silly) which would then be like my uncle naming his son boy. true story. i have this cousin, older than i am and he is called boy. and he absolutely loves it. i actually grew up thinking his sister was known as girl coz in my warped mind if you were known as boy then definitely your sister just had to be known as girl, simple logic really.

yesterday i was having an argument with my cousin. she is a girl. now fellas you know you can never win an argument if its with a girl, however much you bring out all the hardest points, she will always have the last word even though she actually knows the points really are hard ones. anyway in the middle of this argument i was not feeling safe anymore coz of her actions. she was breathing real hard, her nose goin all out, pacing back and forth. reminded me of a girl i used to date. during an argument when she got mad, she would start pacing all over the place, breathing her nose out. but the one that really scared me was when she would start speaking in the third person. that was damn scary coz it was like her way of saying, from that point on, she wasn’t responsible for any of her actions.

last week, while looking for a pair of shoes to wear, i came across my very first pair of old skool converse. i had not wore them in over 6months and because i had no clean pair of socksies lying around, i was mighty glad when i found a somewhat clean looking pair inside the shoes. so off i was to work,  in my old converse with a dodgy pair of socks feeling like i was the shiznit. i get to work and after a while decide to kick off the shoes. in the process, the left sock gets torn at the heel. i look at it in horror but decide that wont phase me, so i keep doin my thing. an hour or so later i feel a stray breeze hitting only my right toe and am wondering how it got to my supposedly socked toe. i look down only to see that my toe had escaped through a hole in my sock and was just enjoying the breeze like it had no worries in the whole damn world. i wanted to tell it “negro please, we got problems….that right there is a damn hole, which means we just cannot be visiting anyone today” and to think that i was supposed to meet someone at their house later that day, someone who always demands removal of shoes before entry to their house….

speaking of holes. the road home has finally succumbed and become ugandan. it was tarmacked about two years ago but recently it has began to get these small potholes all over it, really small or so i thought till last week. i had left work quite late and i bumped into my neighbor in town. seeing as it was late we decided to share a cab back home and yours truly decided he might as well catch up on some shut eye.

because am used to the terrain of the road even with my eyes closed, i can always tell where we are without looking but this time i was in for a shock. driving from town was a pretty smooth ride until we got to a point where the car seemed to go into a valley and then struggle to get out. my eyes were still closed but i was sure this was not the way home. for a split second i thought the driver was using another route and with all these kidnapping stories doing the rounds, i thought he was planning to sacrifice us to some god or even rape us.  my eyes flew wide open and i began to look around in panic only to realise we were actually on the road home but we were just stuck in a pothole the size of a small valley, heck we had gone under and the guys coming from the front just could not see us.

oh, imp is out of the way now. says the post has taken long. which now reminds me of that black dress :). i must say though i still prefer the grey one. but anyway, i now remember the word. the dress made her look delectable and made me want to….oh crap, now what does my granny want.

gotta run, but i’ll leave you with the wise words of my granny. once while i was in the car with her, a cow stopped in the middle of the road, she turned to me and said, ” yo em, for you to make it in this world, you gotta act like a cow!!” i said, “huh, you mean like chew cud and just shit wherever i feel like?”

she laughed so hard, her back shifted at an angle and as a result she has had back problems since. see, she brought it on herself. so she said, “no em, look at that cow. it does not give a hoot (or would that be a mow) who owns the roads or the world. it is confident enough to just stand there and know nothing bad will happen to it. and none of us will move till it moves.” in other words, dont like act you own the world, act like you dont care who owns it and you will conquer it…i think!!

too many stories to tell, so little time….in the words of the governator, i’ll be back.

you know it makes no sense…am out!!

this easter season….

No Work

happy easter y’all and just coz i love this guy…

Chicken Joe

*pics respectfully ripped from some places i absolutely do not remember