Friday, March 30, 2012


My defination of a sorority is a family of campus (or slightly aged) mamas whose only unifying factor is that they all possess the same sexual chachteristics. The Kenyan context of the word has a fairly wide departure from the American perspective. If 'Greek' the series is anything to go by, 'Obama's minions' (as Americans shall hereby be refered) have these houses where boys and girls are separated in campus. This is probably because unlike us they didn't go to same sex schools in high school for four long yet exciting years.

Okay. So they label these houses (fraternities for guys and sororities for chics) with greek letters; Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma and so on. So an example of a potential name would be 'Gamma Nu Theta'. Get it?! No?! Go to your movie guy and get a copy of Greek.

So in Kenya, *The Motherland* chics group themselves on the basis of simmilarities. Eg, same class, same church, same 'going out at night and engaging in immoral activity' yeah. You get the point. Now chics are nothing like guys. Guys will talk about football and beer and once in a while touch on the topic of women. Chics will talk about this guy or that guy 24/7,talk trash about other chics and once in a while touch on the topic of football and how much they hate it.

Now all the information hereinabove is based on fiction. Pure and simple. But this is what I am sure of. Just like every other species of vertebrates, there's always a leader in a clique- a queen if you will. And its not just animals. Think about it. Queen Bee, Queen Ant, Mother hornet. There is always a leader. Sometimes chics don't even realize it but she is there. Most times however, (Kindly make reference to Pretty Little Liars), the 'Queen B*tch' is very apparent. Exerting her control over everyone's activities in the group. Whether or not its something that affects everyone else. Frankly, it really is like watching a feature on National Geographic.

Men however don't have a leader. No. We'll be sitting at a bar catching pints and talking about every irrelevant thing you could think of. If one of us wants to go somewhere, he'll probably go alone or INVITE one of his mates along. Its not like 'we're going to another bar because this one's boring. You come with us or risk solitude.'

If Queen B likes your earrings she'll borrow them for a weekend and repossess them. If she likes the guy you like she'll bust a move long before you do. Sometimes she even dictates what clothes you will wear or the shoes you'll buy.

What is probably the worst part is that anyone who wants out, cant get out. Its simply impossible to attempt to oust the authority of Queen B. An attempt at futility if you will.

The consequences of rebellion are dire. She might....wait for it....notvtalk to you! Imagine that. For a whole month even. She may even go as far as making everyone else give you the silent treatment. Uuuuuu! Very nasty.

Its said that women are their own enemies. And the moment you will realize that you are not a circus act paid to work under a person's whims, is the moment you will grow a pair of *something that women grow to give them courage*!!!

My intention is not to break off friendships but to make you see that you are her b*tch. And its not something that's going to end anytime soon. You may not see it now, but trust me, its there.

And to all the Queen B's out there. Get a life woman.

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Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Break___up </3 -Sequel

6) Oh no she didn't.

If you opt for the stalk route, you will definately find what you were looking for even if it isn't there. Let me explain. To you, everything she posts will be (is) addressed directly or indirectly at you. For instance, she will post, 'Had a great day with my girls today. Love you guys.' In your head, she's just trying to show you how much she's having a good time without you. The bitch! Or for instance, she posts 'Happy Birthday baby brother!!'  To you- she din't even wish me a happy birthday! She's showing me how much of a 'good time' she's having without me around. Ha! She'll be back. She's nothing without me! However there are those exes that post direct messages at you without a care for modesty. Tweets like 'I now realize how happy I am without you in my life.' or 'Single life is so much more cooler' can never be interpreted to refer to anyone else but you. Or then again, they might opt for step #1 and flirt aimlessly with other guys, post almost naked photos of herself on facebook just to make you feel the pinch of what you 'lost'. Solution?! #

7) Return fire. *enter subaru*

Now for those of you who aren't avid tweeps or are unfamilliar with the phrase, to 'subaru' a person is to make direct utterances at them. Mostly of a negative nature. So the bitch thinks I'm gonna take this lying down?! Well you got another thing coming! If you are the kind to act on impulse, this step i definately a recurring one. It ranges from taking lyrics from songs to send a message through to posting the dirty linen of your relationship online. No particular song comes to mind right now  but you get the point. If you don't, break up with her and follow up on all these steps till this one. And I dunno why, but there's usually a scheme plotted by your radio, computer, phone and Ipod to cause you misery by just playing stupid lameass nostalgic music that makes you remember her. This may lead on to #

8) a) Friends?! Friends!

At some point, either you or her will suck up your egos and say a hi. This will probably be the most awkward of conversatios you will ever have in your life. Basic example. 'Hi?!' 'Hey?! Wassup?' 'Nothing much. You?!' 'Same old. Same old' The end. The life of this conversation is dependant on who is willing to suck up their ego down to their gut and open up. Something that rarely happens. At some point (maybe) one of you will want to be 'just friends' which can be both a good and bad idea. Good because you don't feel as lonesome as you did before and bad because more often than not you cannot stand to see her happy without you in her life. Thus leading on to #

8) b) Enemies?! No. Frenemies. Agreed!

Just as fast as you guys become friends, you stop talking to each other. Majorly because you have nil quorum. The both of you are hardly capable of maintaining a conversation without bringing up the past. And we dont want that now do we?! So it becomes an on and off thing. You talk today, skip a few days, say hello, MIA for a month, the story goes on and on and on...and as of now I really dont think it ever comes to an end.

9) #TeamForeveralone

Now this has two sides, you will either get into another relationship sooner or later or she will. Either can come first and I dare say that one is inspired by the other. If she gets in a relationship before you, my advice, sit back and watch. First they'll start posting sensless love messages to each other via social media professing their love for each other. 'Who's awesome?! You're awesome.' 'No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' No you're awesome.' Makes me sick. And the best/worst part is that the poor chap doesn't know he's being used. You'd tell him but just chill and see how far they're going to take this. *popcorn please*

10) All together now.

Now all above nine steps are to be repeated. Not in any particular order but yeah. From the rebounds, to the subarus, the reality that the other person actually exists. Sometimes you can add a pinch (or a truckload) of violence in there for flavour. But it always turns out ugly.

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Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Break____up </3

I wouldn't exactly consider myself an expert but I believe I have had my fair share of experience as far as break ups go. Haven't we all. Nasty experiences they are. Very nasty. Especially if your ex is one of those uncooperative ones.

I dunno the smart ass that chose to refer to a previous 'lover' with just a letter: 'X'. Probably it was  meant to mean excommunicate or even exhume a previous 'love'. I quote the word love because an ex isn't always  going to be someone you loved. Maybe a result of massively misplaced infatuation or lust. But then would I know right?!

I do not want to dwell into the details of how or why peeps break up. Sometimes it's just a bad joke that goes too far; or coz of a bad rumour that spreads all over the place like an STI in campus. The actualization of a break thats something. When you actually have to break up with the other person. Most peeps will just go with it and live out the rest of their lives in peace. These are the crazy kind. You are not supposed to be 'cool' after a break up. Its taboo and immoral. Unless ofcourse you never actually were in a relationship to begin with.

Okay. As I was saying; the breaking of the news. It takes guts to break up with someone. No lie. Sometimes you want to do it but you just cant get it out your mouth *thats why some of us need tequilla shots* and you end up deviating from the topic entirely.

However when you finally do grow a pair, there are some uncooperative ones who will need a reason; an explanation as to 'why you are doing this to me'. And this is where it gets interesting ladies and gents. Out comes the corniness. The most clichè of lines; its not you, its me; I need to concentrate on my studies/job/religion/AOB; I'm not ready to do this right now; Yo a great person but *enter stupid clichè excuse*. The thing I have learnt over the years however is that more often than not,  these lines are some sort of vague reflection of the truth. When a person says that its them that has a problem and not you...maybe....just maybe he is telling the truth.  But moving along...

Below are some 10 *and possibly more* easy to learn steps that come with break ups. I'd have titled this post as The Post Break up Syndrome but after all I've just said, I thot Post is a little too far off. It however should be noted that this is a guy's perspective. Okay okay onto #

1).  Acceptance. Haha! Lol! JK! As if!

So you just broke up. If it was an argument you will feel like a load's been lifted off and yo practically flying. Kinda like taking  long drag of helium. Weightless. Freedom! At last. You want to hit on everything in a skirt *excluding immediate female family members- which does not include second cousins; You can bang her*. You wanna test the waters and see how the game has changed since the last time you were single.  Hitting on random women left right centre, taking a shot with all those women who 'wanted' you when you were hooked up. Wooohooo! But along comes #

2) Prodigal Son phase A.

Reality is a bitch (and probably hangs in your ex'es clique). The fun is shortlived. Loneliness sets in. You remember the things she used to do. How she used to laugh. Then you begin to compare her with other mamas until you realize that there isn't another one like her. If there are many fish in the sea she probably is the white rhino of the fishes. Maybe breaking up wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe I should apologize. I have been  prick to her. Some breakups are ammended at this point. Apologies are made. Treaties are created and a status quo is established. However for those with inflated Egos, thus my darlings is just the begining sp* *Villan laugh and multiple striking of lightning in the background*

3) My ex?! What ex?!

At this point you realize that the chances that the both of you will get back together are slimer than the possibility that stones won't be thrown in a Gor vs AFC derby *its actually sad*. Forget them. I dont need her! And sometimes it actually works. It has been said that if you convice yourself tht something it true, it may actually turn out as so; well atleast to you. So for a while you forget them. Your life ceases to revolve around them and for sometime i.e. 2-4 weeks, you get a hold of your life again until Bam! #

4) Smack in the face.

You are minding your own business,tweeting, checking your facebook, blogging or whatever until you see them there right infront of your face. At this point, a small part of you dies. Nostalgia sets in and has no immediate intention of leaving. So you could either

5) a) Block! Delete! Backspace! Esc! Ctrl+F4!

Lol. The ex factor comes in and you excommunicate them. A move that I personally find to be stupid. Its not like they cease to exist just because you blocked them. Its irrational. Or,

b) Stalk! Stalk! Stalk!

So what has the bitch been upto these last couple of weeks?! You want to know everything she has posted, blogged or twaat *pause* (I crack myself up! You get it it?! Tweet?! Twaat?! No?! Party pooper) *unpause* since you broke up. So whats the bitch been saying about me?! Then along comes #

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Sunday, March 11, 2012

Five more minutes. Just five. Cont.

Taking off from where I left last time. Now where was I? Oh
6) Reverse Withdrawal Symptoms After lunch I get to the office and hand everyone their food (Kinda like Santa Claus but I don't do it in the dark nor get paid in 'milk and cookies'). Now I think I have a problem. My stomach seems to imitate the mannerisms of an 'almost' black hole or an 'almost' bottomless pit. I say almost because I will fill it up till I can take in no more food and that will be the end of lunch. Right?! Wrong!! That's just Phase one. The different phases of my eating process shall be discussed at a later scheduled date to be advised. See its like cards. My belly will play a card and if I fail to call its bluff, it wins and I have to restock it. I kid you not. This stomach can hold a truckload of food given the chance. So I dish out food in the office and wait in vulturelike expectation to scavange for anything they leave me. Don't judge me. Its my guilty pleasure. 7) Back to Square One. Now I am faced with the most impossible feat that only few have managed to ever successfully accomplish. Sleeping and not getting caught. In High School it was easy: go to the back of the class, position thyself stategically away from le teacher's glare and presto! Happy sleeping. Or like this one friend I had who would open his desk and sleep inside it with the top on his head. Good times. *dubs tear from corner of right eye* Btw I always wondered: what do you call the top of a desk? A door? A lid? A cover? A wooden piece of...uuuhhh...wood used to cover a desk? Don't try Googling it. I think its the only thing Lord Google doesn't know. Oh. So now I have to struggle with half open-eyelids in a failed attempt to keep awake. 8)Come again? Pardon? I didn't quite catch what you said there. Now if you can run me by that last part it'd be great. Soon the hypersomnolence passes and now I have to deal with people who have no other purpose in life other than to pester me: clients. I probably didn't mention this earlier but I work in Kiambu, and although I am Kikuyu to the marrow, I am always at a loss when it comes to speech. This basically isn't a big deal up until everyone who comes in the door converses in the local dialect. Yes there I can understand what they're saying perfectly, but its dialogue meaning I have to respond to them. Darn you Communication Skills lecturer with your notes on feedback! Now I am quite narcist, believing most of the things I do to be the best. But my Kikuyu...Heavens!Pathetic does not nearly compare to the adjective I'd use to describe it. Even I know. And believe me, I have tried. My uncle once bought me and my sister Books in Kikuyu Literature. Like your 'Read and Write' or 'Hallo Children' book...In Kikuyu. #Majorfail. To make Matters worse, 'Good Guy' is Kamba but speaks fluent Kikuyu. So what I do...I refer everyone to him. Doesn't matter if you want directions to the loo. If you no understand my Swahili or Githugu, I shall point you to the direction of help. 9) Infringement of the Ninth Commandment. Now its almost closing time (Home time) and before we close shop we have to do an audit of sorts. We calculate all the money that we got that day, all that we used and check if the amount of cash we have is in consonance with the figures we tabulate. Now a law firm is a business; and just like any other business, there are good days and bad days- at least that's what I want to believe. So I find it stupid and totally childlike for The Boss to insult us by calling us theives of his Money when we have a bad day. The most I've gone as far as 'stealing' goes is accept cash from a satisfied customer (that could understand English) for a job well done. At first it was deragatory. But I figured, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones / But words will never hurt me'. It bacame routine. Everytime we have a bad day the three of us play rock paper scissors and the loser gets the esteemed honour of telling The Boss how much we have that day. Its the most efficient method seeing that I always win. Rock always wins. At least that's what I made them believe. *villan laugh with a tremendous clap of thunder in the background*. 10) The End...or is it?! Tum Tum Tum Tum!!! Enter 5 pm, Exit the intern. I am not so much into routine so after jobo I'm up for anything and everything as long as it's morally upright and Christian #Pokerface. Then begins the long and fulfilling night. Cool some steam before the reality checks in that i have to do all this again the next day.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Bobbing Head

To begin to talk about music would be an impossible feat. Owing probably to the fact that music is too broad and deep a topic to even think of covering. A good song draws origin from true inspiration. It is the ability of an artist to reproduce the raw nature of that inspiration into an potential song. I once had the not so grand opportunity of sitting in a music production class at some dark point in my life; and the experience was...well lets just say it was better than nothing. Under a certain topic , we discussed (basically the lecturer talked and I just tweeted) the various components of sound. Five they were in number; pitch, tone...and the rest as I previously mentioned were tweeted. To the average audience (read you and me) all this is inappropriate. All we need to do is listen to a particular jam and judge whether for ourselves if its a good or not so great tune. Hit or miss if you will. The beauty that is human, is that we are all different. It is these differences that make us all similar ( I have absolutely no idea what that means but it sounded right in my head). Take a very good example of music. If we all had the same taste in music, there probably would be only one genre of music. It probably would be classic music some other one of the more decrepit genres. Let me put it into context...all radio stations would play the same kind of music...we'd probably still be listening to Mozart and Beethoven or worse still, the smashing and breaking of things: a form of expression that early man considered to be literally 'music to his ears'. Worse still, you couldn't go aganist the orthodox systems of old. How could you? You would stand the risk of being laballed insane. Or then you just could succesfully pull off a Rosa Parks and refuse to own your seat (opinion) and stick to (by) it. Away from hypothetical scenarios. As previously indicated herein, it is the ability of an artist to replicate inspiration into rhythm that makes or destroys a song. If well pulled off, an audience is able to relate to the song (sometimes) as it is...real. From Hip hop to Rock and roll and even jazz, it is impossible not to notice the attachment an artist has to a particular song especially in its output.
Emotions run high as some musicians may even cry or destroy instruments in vile rage. This emotion is then transfered to the listener. It is therefore for this reason that we set a favorite song on repeat till the monotony demands change. I was Listening to this song earlier today Woza by Jaziel Brothers its a Zulu (I think) song. I can hear only two sentences in that song. The rest is basically giberish to me. Regardless, I played that song over and over and over again. I still am. It really does not matter whether you understand the language a song is sung in. Yes lyrics do play a crucial role in a song. This however should not serve as as an impedement to the type or genre of song we listen to. Music can does serve as therapy in otherwise emotional circumstances. The irrevocable picture we (I) have of that young Bri'ish teenager that listens to loud metal music on his (her) headphones when he (she) is stressed says it all. Reference should be made to the chic in the Closer to the Edge - 30 Seconds to Mars video who says 'Some people believe in God.....I believe in music...... You know.... when some people pray.....I turn up the radio...' So play that song 100 times over until the neighbours come knocking with an alternative Music cd for you to listen to. Let song be your nurse.