It does not pay to be small.

Its always tough coming back to this blog to publish a post after being away for sometime. Over the past few weeks I've drawn inspiration for great (or atleast I want to believe so) 'articles'. I say articles in reverence of this new lecturer I have that expects us to read about forty pages of notes (publications, journals, articles, periodicals, statute law, the works) prior to every class (yes EVERY FREAKING CLASS) failure of which will yeild a loss of marks meaning that us guys will be going into exam rooms with negative marks. Viva la Law School.

My inspiration however doesn't go as far as I'd want it to, but I'm here now aint I?! And Imma make this work. It will as boring and nonsensical as hell and thus as always, I pray that you cease and desist from further reading.

If she'd have her way, there are two 'professions' my mother would have done away with a really long time ago.

First is deejays. Her justification is basic; they don't 'finish' the songs they play. Lemmi put it into context. A really nice jam comes on telly or radio (and by nice I mean old song that I wouldn't listen to under normal circumstances), mumsie gets up and gets in the mood dancing all over the living room, strutting her stuff like she owns the place- which she technically does (in a manner that I'm particularly not proud of).

A minute into the song, she sees another one coming on; a more modern 'kinda not her thing' jam. Her reaction is priceless. First she thinks that there's a problem. She doesn't understand why any sane being would overlap a song over another- to her its noise. She stops dancing and just stares at the telly to see if this shit is for real. The song passes and enters the next jam. It especially doesn't help if the deejay in question prolongs the transition with his 'useless' scrathes. Lol. She then goes to the kitchen murmuring about how she doesn't understand how a person gets paid to 'disrupt' good music and reap from the benefits of someone elses work- because when you think about it, all a deejay does is play music made by other artists.

The best part is, its routine. It happens everytime. Don't believe me?! Pop in by my house at noon on Sundays when almost every tv station tries to get a spot on the Heaven Gatepass list by playing gospel music. I reiterate: priceless.

The second condemned group of individuals is kanges and matatu drivers. Insane, stupid, dumb, pumpkins, cabbages... Practically every curse word that a Christian lady is allowed to use,they have been called. She hastily repents after that though. Once she said, 'If I wasn't a Christian...' I snickered all the way from here to... Timbuktu. Haha. Matatu drivers I can't defend. But kanges.... I think (thought) they're just out to make money in the best way I know how to. Right?! Wrong! No...wait. WRONG! These dumb pieces of horse shit are the worse product of the Kenyan society. Worthless than plankton! You differ?! Oh I see you looking at me in protest defending that kange who lets you travel without paying fare. You will pay my friend... Thou shalt pay in kind for these 'free favours'. Trust!

Let me show you where I'm coming from. I have Wednesdays as my free day so last week I decided to make a house call on a friend of mine, Sonnie ( I still donno why you ever read this blog btw).

Okay, So I panda the jav and sit almost next to the kange since I don't exactly know where I'm going and I have to work with hazy details (chics give the worst directions btw). Pay time. I give the kange guy 500 bob since it was the only cash I had on me. Don't judge me. Welcome to the life of a Campus Student. I'd thought of buying her cookies but went aganist my better judgment and didn't. She'd have to earn those cookies if you get my flow... *wink*

Anyway...paytime. I give him my 500 reds and he says he doesn't have change and that he'll give me my balance laterz.

Easey.

He begins to look for change for five soc and goes ahead to give it to this mama seated next to me.

I'm chill. No pressure. Almost everyone shukas the jav and I'm left with some other mama in the mat since my stop is like the last one. Naturally, I ask for my money.

'Pesa gani?!'

At that very moment, I knew I was screwed. What ensued was this senseless discussion about how he's been working the jav for sijui a long time and how he's never messed up his math...and how I was lying to him. Now I have a very scrawny figure. I couldn't scare a mouse let alone this huge beast infront of me even if I tried. What to do...what to do.

I just shukad at my stop and cursed all the way. Thank Jesus for that two hundred bob that appeared in my coat pocket from heaven knows where (which conviniently shows itself now rather than when I was paying my fare) and I got home safe. So yes, I hate all kanges until I get my 450 back... With damages! Like a boss- a thin frail boss but A BOSS NONETHELESS!

No. I dont regret not buying her cookies.

P.S. All of them shall burn in the eternal fires of hell.

Word!

Except the one on the picture. She can stay. :-)

I was too lazy to look over this post so forgive all grammatical errors.

One.

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Give me what I want

Courtesy of Big Sis. Lotsa love!

I miss being courted like the old days in the old ways. Nowadays in the first 10 minutes a guy has already told you that he wants to sleep with you and what he will do to you in bed.

Before the date is over, he will have touched you inappropriately and kissed you. It doesn’t matter whether you kiss him back or not. I want to know that I can lie near a man and he will not touch me. He will cover me to shield me from the cold and not attempt to do funny things to/on me. I like the old school way where a guy actually wants to know you better before taking you to bed. He wants to know your values, what you like and what you don’t, what you are interested in and what will bore you to death. He will not attempt to touch you inappropriately or say words that would make our forefathers turn in their graves.

Most importantly, he will respect you and treat you like the lady you are, or should be.

However, that does not happen anymore. Very few people know how to value themselves and I guess that’s why society is changing too much. We women do not respect ourselves anymore thus very few men will respect us in return. That’s why a man will have two women in his lives because neither of the two respects themselves enough to let him know her stand.

I want to be courted like the women in the old school movies and stories I have watched and read. Where a man who is fit to be a fantasy in the current world comes and whisks the lady off her feet and they live happily ever after. I want to be sought after like Rachel of the bible, whose husband worked for 14 years in order to get her hand in marriage. I want to be fought for by my man, not two men fighting for me, no, one man doing all he can to have me, to keep me. I want love letters and poems, art and shady gifts like a green apple but I know I am asking for too much especially in this day and age where technology has taken the place of thinking men. I know, it is very unlikely to get such from the men of today who only think in materialistic terms and not what matters to the heart.

I want to randomly meet a man who will be the love of my life, a man who will know when I want to be alone and my fear of being lonely. A man who will let me be when need arises but will bug the intestines out of me to tell him what is wrong. A man who will take care of me with all that he has and who will live me with all he is. I want a man who is not afraid to be a man. A man who embraces his sexuality and has no issues with himself. A man who can cry and not feel like he is weak, rather knows that tears are a sign of strength, strength within (although that doesn’t mean he cries all the time! That we leave to the women.)

I believe that this man is out there, heck I have probably met him. I want this man to exist, not just for me but for all the ladies out there.

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A letter to the less fair sex

The New Kenyan Constitution ensures that women and men will have the right to equal treatment and opportunities in political, economic, cultural and social spheres without discrimination. Article 27 (3). I am of the opinion that this blog qualifies as a social platform so, in accordance with the provisions of Article 27(3), Imma let my girl express her (heartfelt) views and opinions.

The views expressed in this post are solely those of the writer's and not necessarily those of The Blodwyn World management. Lol!

Seeing that there’s too much testosterone in here, I figured a female touch would be appreciated. *Draws curtains, new carpet, a few throw pillows over there* this feels just like home now .

A LETTER TO THE LESS FAIR SEX.

Ok so maybe this is less of a letter than I have led you on to believe - closer to a bunch of musings put together. Because we all know when a woman says we need to talk it means we have something new to complain about. More recently I have been questioning my taste in men (a friend says I’m being too dramatic and chooses to define this as a slump) hence I am starting to think that I will get married to a less than pretty man because pretty men are just a lot of work. But this theory will be addressed at a later date if @Baiya_ lets me. So let’s get down to business because I get easily carried away and could possibly go on and on and on and on *Yup. You get the idea*.

DISCLAIMER: After consultation this has been proven to be the general opinion of the female community.

Dear prospective boyfriends, First and foremost NO MATTER what we say, Valentine’s day is a big deal. It might be too late for this but to avoid future mistakes it must be said.  This is coming from the young lady who on that particular day had lunch with a bunch of females who think that Valentine’s is a day set out for women to treat themselves. Not forgetting to mention the fact that this was all because the boyfriend was “busy”. This type of behavior shall not be entertained!! I do not expect the grand of the grandeur *I amaze myself* but make an effort.

Secondly I’d like to call this one ‘THE BOYS syndrome’ *I could write a book about this one*. Yes, yes I know ‘bros over hoes’ is how it goes. If you’re dating her and she’s yours. She cannot be a hoe. Let the line be drawn. Personally, I cannot even count the number of times I have been picked over the bros *yes he was a jerk*. Always give your woman her place in your life. Spend time with her, love on her and you’ll be amazed at what she would do for you.   This is where, as guys, in general you get it wrong. Your duty is to make sure you’re mami isn’t insecure. If she is, you’re doing something wrong. Women just don’t wake up paranoid. Lemmi say this now. If I am dating you I probably think you’re the most amazing person and at that point in time. By virtue of that, any woman is a threat and at this point I could turn into a crazy b*tch at any flip of a second. And for that I need to be flossed! That way I know you’ve made a statement it therefore gives me a sense of security.

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The Three Day wait.

This post is inspired by His Awesomeness Barney Stinson. It was originally a note I wrote on Facebook but in the spirit of Easter, I am publishing it as a blog post. Have a blessed Sunday people.

Jesus waited three days to come back to life. It was perfect! If

he had only waited one day, a lot of people wouldn't have even

heard he died. They'd be all, "Hey Jesus, what up?" and Jesus

would probably be like, "What up? I died yesterday!" and they'd

be all, "Uh, you look pretty alive to me, dude..." and then Jesus

would have to explain how he was resurrected, and how it was a

miracle, and the dude'd be like "Uhh okay, whatever you say,

bro..." And he's not gonna come back on a Saturday.

Everybody's busy, doing chores, workin' the loom, trimmin' the

beard, NO. He waited the perfect number of days, three. Plus it's

Sunday, so everyone's in church already, and they're all in there

like "Oh no, Jesus is dead", and then BAM! He bursts in the back

door, runnin' up the aisle, everyone's totally psyched, and FYI,

that's when he invented the high five. That's why we wait three

days to call a woman, because that's how long Jesus wants us to

wait.... True story. ”

bit.ly/HwVYq1

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Sororities.

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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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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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 again...how 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 up...now 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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