From the heart.

Today I write from a staircase. I feel all poetic and artistic in the perfect setting to write and express myself. Lol. Screw that shit.
So I've been well thanks for asking. Still alive unfortunately... I'm sorry but I'm not going to do suicide, if you want me to go, you'd better just come do it yourself. Oh, and I got a new girlfriend. Yeah. I dont think she knows about the blog. If she did she wouldnt be with me; judging by all the dumb stereotypes that go with bloggers. I may not have a life, but atleast I have this blog, which is definately more than I can say for most of you creeps... I also have a girlfriend. And she's pretty. Very pretty if I dont say so myself.
So this blog has seen my worst and best moments. It serves somewhat of a memoire to remind me of how pathetic my life has been over the last couple of years. I actually love to write. Very random things if I may add. I find a certain solace in words. They are probably the most flexible and malleable of symbols to convene emotion. I actually had a diary of sorts where I wrote out all my thoughts. I actually had-attempted only in vain- to keep it a secret. But when my mother bought me another identical book for my birthday 'coincidentally' after the original one filled up, I gave up; both on writing and keeping secrets. I actually suck at keeping secrets. If you want the world to know it, tell it to G.
Okay. Back to the real point here. My girlfriend. I find it almost impossible to hold a conversation with someone without making reference to twitter. So in the same regard, I once saw this tweet, 'You know life has been kind to you if you never find yourself doing things that you stood aganist.' Well with the way my life has been a roller coaster the last couple of weeks, I've engaged in my fair share of 'Catch me dead doing...'s' some totally irrelevant in this context and others... Not quite too much. This whole relationship included. After my last one, I seriously vowed not to get into another relationship so long as I was still in school. I know all of us have had that one. It can be equated to the 'I will never drink another drop of alcohol in my life' phrase most frequently said the morning after. But life has its own little way of showing us who's boss. Fast forward several months later and here I am, no regrets and enjoying every second of it.
But I am insecure. Its one of my worst vices. Its rarely predominant in how I handle my life and issues but it is there.
Like today for instance, we had our first disagreement. Ladies (who read this blog, though I doubt you exist), the only piece of advice I can give you as relates the men in your life, they want to feel wanted. Every man wants to feel important and useful to you. And yes, I said every man, particularly men you share a relationship with- dads, brothers, boyfriends, clandestine boy toys, secret lovers name it. Its like a basic need. When you laugh at our corny jokes and want us to do stuff for you, we like that sh¡t. No. Correction... Love it. We may not always show it, but its actually true.
So imagine my frustration when my girlfriend enjoys being in the company of every other guy except me. She finds solace in confiding in my neighbour the reason she's mad at me rather than tell it to me herself. That she'd be laughing with a couple of guys and then suddenly change her mood when I get into the room. I'm pissed. Irked actually. But what you gonna do about it... Smile and wave. All I have is the hope that kesho will be a better day than today was.

Plus I just heard her scream to someone, 'I (curse word) have a boyfriend!!'
It prolly is going to be a good night day after all.

Ignore all I just said. Have a good morning.

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Leave me alone. Or not.

I have said it once and I will say it again; I am convinced that I am socially awkward and irrelevant. This does not help my plight to become famous as I have always desired. In fact, its quite a hindrance... Seeing that I cant ordinarily approach unfamilliar people and tell them of my greatness. But its alright. I'll find a way around it.
However, I have this theory that I've shared with a few of my friends and has gone on to agitate them. The only reason (I think) why anyone would want to be friends with me, with the obvious exception of those really cool peoples that tolerate my idiocy, is if they've been in the future and seen that I'm famous and now they've come back to the past and want to be part of my great success. Makes sense right?! So all you girls out there that want a piece of this... You aint getting it! I think I'll hang a 'Closed. Gone Fishing' sign on my neck just to put the point across.
In today's bus ride, I'm seated next to a 60 something year old man who's playing games on his phone. Well as this may be fine and all, he has the volume up for all, sundry and sundry's family to hear. I think I'll name my kid sundry; you know, so that he feels like he belongs. So this game. I think its about ducks or duck porn. I can hear ducks oooohing and aaaahing like they've been spanked or coitusly handled. (I learnt a new word today. Coitus. Not so sure bout the spelling though. Mfano kwa sentensi... That chic can coitus it. Lol.) Technology was not invented for people over 50. If your folks have a better phone than you, they are either in denial about old age or you are... Stupid -couldn't find a smarter word.
As sure as Justin Beiber is gay, I do not make these stories up. I seat next to the most awkward of people on buses.
I just heard a phone go off with the 2go beep. Remember 2go?! Its more of 2went today seeing how long its been. Who goes on 2go anyway?! Its so old, the snake probably used it to trick Eve into eating that forbidden fruit. Haha. I made a joke. I am so funny! *slaps Kevin Hart.
So today I was thinking about death. I think I'll post bout it tomorrow. My stage is next.
Delete your browser history. You do not want people seeing that you read this nonesense.

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Safaricom 7s! IYAA! Whatever that means.

The 17th edition of Safaricom Sevens was a success. I'm not particularly too big on rugby but 7s is a must attend. The sights and sounds are simply unbelievable. If possible, I'd make the event one of the country's National symbols. Never before have I felt so... Kenyan. As a fan sitting in the stands and watching Kenya play while thousands of like minded fans help you cheer your country on... Its... Simply amazing. And that is from a fan's perspective. I can't even begin to imagine how it feels to actually be on that field and actually be the one being cheered on as you represent the country. Prodigious.

So today in the jav on my way home... I'm seated next to a mami that's feeding. Yes feeding. Not eating. People who eat have basic etiquette and know that it is uncultured to open up a bag of aromad food in a public service vehicle. Judging by how she's eating, she's having fries and chicken bones because all I can hear is the crushing of bones by teeth. I digress. But she's so annoying!!!!

I view 7s as more or less my New Years of sorts. Every year I go and assess how far I've come since last year's edution. Like last year I was broke... Now... Still broke. No progress on that flank. Plus all Saturday I hang out with my cousins who derailed me from going (that and my obvious lack of money and a poor phone network. You know its actually ironic that on Safaricom 7s there isn't any network...)

Is it legal to punch someone between the eyes coz of shitty feeding habits? No? Well I think you're stupid too.

What I found ironic though, was those people who went to the stadium just to watch the event on screen at the village. I don't understand it. You'd see a couple of dweebs seated on chairs looking at a screen showing a game thats being played not more than 100 metres away. Whats up with that?!
And lets not even get started on the main reason for Safaricom 7s or any rugby event for that matter. No. Not the rugby. You'd actually be an imp for thinking that people go for the love of the game. Well some do (raises hand) but the rest... Let just say they're out to have a good time. I came from my cousins' place in Nairobi West at midnight and the multitude of people outside... Gosh! You'd think that people were being given free stuff- seeing how us Kenyans love freebies or thats just me. Btw for all the lovers of mutura, Nairobi West is the place. Directly opposite Lazinos. I dont care what anyone says. That is the best African Sausage I've had in my life and trust, I've had alot of African Sausage. Pervert!!!
So yeah. I spent Saturday as an uninvited guest at my cousins', who I am sure wanted to chase me away seeing that I almost emptied the fridge. I just have a knack for fully stocked fridges... I love to empty them. It'll be a while before they let me back in there.
Spent the most part of Sunday doing the Mexican wave and the Kenyan Kayumbet or so I hear its called.
Kenyan rugby is a must watch sport. Like how American have the NFL and the Super Bowl... We have 7's and the Shemaji derby which if anyone saw the news, was packed like...ummmm... Sijui. It was just really full.
Next year I think I'll go with my girlfriend. Seeing as how we're in a long distance relationship with her living in the future and all.
And maybe... Just maybe, I'll have money. It is impossible to be broke three years straight. Right?! Right?!

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Text your intellect and other short stories

I have a problem with people that have poor texting habits.
This is a topic that's is long overdue and needs to be discussed. I usually don't care much for how people structure their text messages since I came to the realization that not everyone has the ability to text entire words like me; and I'd hate to impose my morals on the world. So, I'll let it alone.
There are two mamas in this hoppa who are shouting their lungs out you'd think they're five. I think they're in KSL since they be preaching some legal stuff but seem too old to be in campus. Clearly maturity and age aren't always synonymous. They have really good grammar though. I think I'll just listen to them talk about their boyfriends, lecturers and True Love the September edition which is apparently a good read. I digress.
So a friend of mine just sent me a text,
hw u
Yes. That was it. Keep in mind that this is a really good friend of mine not the random kind of friends that text only when they want money. I have not replied to this message becausr I dunno how to without seeming sarcastic. Several problems with this text.
1. Punctuation. Mami if you cannot afford to insert a Capital letter in your text or even in the least a question mark, don't bother texting. I don't want to seem like some sort of linguist or grammar teacher... Well I really do not care if I come out as either, but this could be the reason why you don't get a job what with your poor punctuation.
Us guys have stopped to refuel . Never seen a hoppa stop to refuel. I always think they use... Air for fuel. Hmmm. I digress.
2. That text does not make sense. Assuming it reads 'how you'... How you what?! Why did people go to school anyway?! You studied English as a subject for 12 years of your life so you could text that?! Clearly Jesus did not die on the cross for your kind. We (I) understand that SMS has 'Short' somewhere in it but surely how short or economical can you be?!
Remember the loud chics?! Yeah. So one of them sat on a wet seat. Now her pants are soaked and she's throwing tantrums like stones. She just said she'll change when she gets to school. I thought it ended with shoes but women actually have a change of clothes in their bags. I won't even ask. You'd think they're prepared to act out an episode from Lost. Wanawake... (-_\) I digress.
And isn't it funny how smileys can change the entire mood of a text. I know right. Like you'll be texting someone something sarcastic and slide in a smiley to make it all less insulting to their knowledge. Like 'Bitch you're fat ツ' and they'd be happy about it. What's up with that?!
It however must be remembered that typos in texts are mistakes and thus should not be judged. I see you looking at me saying that I make typos in my texts and blogs. Well Bitch you're fat ツ
Bye.
Oh. Now I'm seated next to a priest. How cool is that?! Huh?!

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Law school.

Disclaimer: If you're related to me by blood, don't read this.
Truth be told, there's something about doing a law degree that makes you feel special. Sure, a LLB isn't really what it used to be. With each up and coming institution of higher learning offering a law related course, but still...
So much so that I always feel like I hold a superior edge over my cousins who... don't do law. I come from a very competitive family, my dad's side that is. Its more of a latent feud but it definately is there. I'd want to believe that its not my family thats solely affected though. We all have those relatives who even though they don't say it, attempt to oust each other in terms of superiority. Who has the best model of car,the newest car, best clothes, designer shoes, coolest phone and the most recent platform of competition, who's kid is doing what in terms of school or work.  But that's family. Competition facilites our relationships. I digress.
So in my family, us guys have all sorts of professionals. Accountants, doctors, computer scientists, fashion designers, economists, teachers (and lecturers who seem to be the majority) business persons... but as you guessed, no lawyers. Infact, someone once said that we could start a hospital seeing that we had an effective workforce already; well with the obvious question of who would address the 'company's' legal issues. I would be lying if I said that my decision to have law as my undergrad wasn't partly influenced by this fact. Being the sole legal professional in a family like mine definately has its benefits. Yes I have a not so distant uncle who's a lawyer... but that is regardless of the point.
So, the biggest challenge that comes with a law degree is the good memory requirement. A lawyer should have everything (well almost everything) he learnt at school on his finger tips. Clients are likely to ask you questions based on very remote topics of law (and trust, law is wiiiide).
I have the worst memory ever. A goldfish has nothing on me as far as poor memory goes. Once heard of a woman who forgot her kid at Walmart. She didn't realize it up until two hours after she got home. That's me. I actually relate to her.
Another thing, lawyers are readers. There's a reason where they choose to cqll themselves 'learned friends' (other than a sarcastic and contemptuous remark of course). Think about it. The stereotype of a lawyer's office: never ending rows of shelves stacked with almost simillar looking books. They actually read those books. Most of the time, the simillar looking books are on previously decided cases that affect judgements issued by courts to date. You have to read those cases to somewhat study the personality of the court and the limits of its discretion. Sh¡t is serious. No joke. I can't count the number of sleepless nights I've had reading those big ass books borrowed from the library. It could probably be because I've never lacked sleep coz of school. I digress.
And boy are are those books expensive. Case in point. All England Law Reports. Vol 1-4 USD 19,457.80. This coming from a sufferer's viewpoint, is God Damn Expensive!
Thus every law student will at some point in undertaking their undergrad, question their ability to continue with school and proceed to ask numerous rhetoric questions as to why they are in law school. At this point, majority drop out. Us guys started off with three classes with approximately 200 students; fast forward two and a half years later and we only have a single class with less than 60 peoples, and its just third year. When you sit down and think about it, its actually scary, with some of us narrowly escaping axe. That is why when you think about it, most law schools are separate from the main Campus in many universities. *mind blown.
Somewhere in the middle of this post, I forgot what my main point for writing was.
Ummm... bye.

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To be young...

They say that we all have inside of us an inner child. Well I recently had a meet up with my inner child. Actually, over the last couple of days he's decided to manifest himself in my action and deed. Well its not exactly a problem. Infact, its all fun and games for a third year student of law to scale trees looking for wild fruits (actually ni mapera, I just say wild fruits to sound bad ass). To use the lid of a bucket as leisurous past time by strolling it around with a hanger wire. (I think this why I'm single. I don't think ladies find this attractive) For twenty year olds to play marbles like children and get 'down and dirty' while doing it.
Infact my neighbours have come up with a 'Things To Steal For No Reason At All Just Because We Are Bored And We Can Do It' list. Now I thought I had no purpose in life until I saw this list. Here's an excerpt...
1. A shopping trolley from Nakumatt ✔
2. A menu from java ✔
3. Those scissors they use to cut chicken at KFC 
4. A 'Fire Exit' sign from school (which I recently realized was glow in the dark) ✔
5. A metal decector. You know, the kind they use everywhere these days to check for bombs in ladies' purses and men's pockets which I personally think is a rubbish idea but hey...
6. A 'Kindly Do Not Sit On The Patient's Bed' sign from Karen Hospital. ✔
7. Cutlery from any commercial coffee house ✔
Yes. Dimwits I know. Just so you know, the items with ticks aganist them have already been acquired. We have the goods. I repeat. We have the goods.
I will however chose to exempt myself from this lastest track of robberies for obvious reasons. I've never been to eithe KFC or Java (don't look at me like that! I'm waiting! I want my first time to be perfect) and I'd really hate it if my first time is my last. My reasons are understandable. In as much as I want to be famous and shit (I say '...and shit in the middle of sentences to make them seem cool and shit) I dint think post juvinile delinquency is the way to go. I can see mugshots of my face posted on the doors of all branches of Java and KFC all around the world with a bolded 'MOST WANTED' sign below... No. Bad publicity. Plus I've been saving myself. (That paragraph right there is a dedication to all you perverts. Dont come to my blog anymore. Lol. I'm frigging hilarious. *slaps Eric Omondi. )
So a member of this renegade group owns a slingshot. You truly dunno the power that a slingshot possesses until you hold one. At that very moment I felt like Thor with his hammer or like I was lifting the sword of Excalibar. This must have been how David Killed Goliath with just a stone. Shit is real people! Like in movies how the past flashes before a charachter when he's about to die... Bingo. The birds I killed, the windows I broke, the eyes I almost popped out of people's heads, the spankings that followed after a bloddy snitch ratted me out to my folks... (I still think snitches will die an ugly death).
And on that note I think us guys had a lovely childhood. The 90's actually rocked. With the obvious exception of the stupid clothes we had to put on (I think I'll photoshop my kid pictures; throw in a pair of timbs, Gucci belt, and probably a shamballa just to give it a lil spice) we actually had fun. Too bad for kids these days though. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy Call of Duty as muchas the next low life but you need to know how it feels to take a real hit. I'm just saying... *applause*.
Back to track. Yeah. So I haven't killed anything... YET! Its kinda hard to do anything when there's nothing to kill. Plus the owner took back his slingshot so no more sling for Georgie. :-(
So imagine my excitement when I'm walking the streets of NY (Nairobi Yetu) and I come along this woman selling slingshots for 100 bob. Tell me this is not a message from the universe!
Anyhow, In unrelated news, I am the proud owner of a slingshot. It doesn't look anything like the one above though. Why would anyone even get something like that?! Elephant hunting perhaps?! Smh.
I shall name my slingshot Cassilis the Soviet Assassin. Lol. I crack myself up. Whats that?! No?! Cassilis... Soviet Assassin? You dont get it?! Shish! Well you're a tough crowd! Yall need to watch movies. The Double would be a good start. Losers.

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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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