Saturday, December 30, 2006

Return of the toast mayai!

In another life, walking down (or is it up?) K Street was an absolute pleasure. It was the cream event after pulverizing your pocket money in a single drinking spree. The cops were our friends; They knew to leave the rowdy young men alone. The defining moment was spending the last 30/= eating a juicy toast mayai. This was a gourmet dish. The Kamau or Njuguna at the pans would simply ask:
Ngapi?
That would mean how many eggs do you want in your toast mayai.

Then these guys disappeared. Until last Wednesday.

Last Wednesday:

No prizes for guessing that the action was going down in Tropez. Smirnoff Black ice is every drinking man's friend (or what was she drinking?). A beautiful woman decided that she could as well open her blouse a couple of buttons down and adjust her bra in full view of the public. Those who were sleeping opened their eyes in dramatic fashion as if a large dose of adrenalin had just been pumped into their system. Next she jumped to the non-existent floor and pulled some beautiful moves ....

Si you open your blouse again?

What do you think?
You just dont kid with some people. For about 2 seconds she pulled the blouse open again.
She left before I could ask the next question. I just love this Tropez place.

3AM (again) me, Kamikaze and the doc are stumbling out. Next stop, Kenchic for greasy, charcoal-like chicken. Just where doc is parked, Njuguna is back with tasty toast mayai!!
Unbelievable.
We immediately forget that Kenchic and their lousy chicken exist and fire rapid orders.

Mayai Ngapi? They have added one word.

4 for 0.5. Screw cholesterol and heart attacks that might occur in 2050.
The quality has not changed one bit.

I might be there again today.

Friday, December 29, 2006

I have a friend...

She wants a guy. To be having relations with [as opposed to relationships]. Any takers.

Friday, December 22, 2006

December Madness

Kamikaze decides he is to fall ill the following day and not report to work. The symptoms of the illness are copious amounts of beer and curvaceous women in scant dresses. The place is MadHouse, the time is 3 AM at night (morning starts when I see the sun). 0.5 is working on said morning. The doc asks how we are able to do it. Drink till 4, show up at work at 8.

I have no answer to that question.

A meeting I was supposed to manage has just tanked. The main protagonist did not show up. Probably had a rough night too. Strike that. Didn't have a night at all. I am making the usual noises about how careless people have become. Righteous indignation left, right and centre. Secretly, I am glad. I didn't have s*t to present. I get to blame the guy and come up as the good guy.

Where was I? Ahh yes...MadHouse. A woman passes by and rubs her butt on my hand as she wiggles to the counter. I pull my hand away...hi hi are you crazy? My hand stays firmly in place. She is not wearing underwear. This is lovely stuff! She stops moving and starts talking to another girl. I can still feel the smooth skin under the cotton skirt. This is some of the smoothest hustling I have ever seen. Cool, calm, collected, totally transparent, like some sort of happy accident.

I dont say anything. She moves upstream.

Oloibon spots Kamikaze. Ahhh...so it was true. Questions still remain. Does she work here or does she work here. Figure it out. But Oloibon fades into the background real quick.
It was at this same spot that a famous female radio personality spat back at me: Ati you know my ass? My first impression was: Ai boss. She is very short. She looks very tall in the papers and magazines. But how? Anyway, my grabbing "celebrities" arms ended with that encounter.

aJamaa shows up from Crooked Q with two of his buddies. Actually we all were in Crooked Q. The place looks like a glorified cow pen with robotized dolls dancing to stupid music. Where is the space? There are pubs in Nairobi whose washrooms are as big as Crooked Q. Where to sit? Who do we send for a beer? I call a guy who is manning the pool tables and politely ask if I can send him for a pint. He replies in high-pitched, sneering singsong: Actually, there are waiters and waitresses here, you can send them. Then he storms off. Unbelievable.

There are children in sagging shorts, 5 earrings on each ear and gum. There are egotistical men playing pool as if it was chess. Abundant display of muscles. Some 18 year old guy pools out a packet of cheroots or something like that. He takes his sweet time in removing and lighting one, to the delight of his buddies. Does a round, nodding his head. Must have watched too many snoop videos and started to imagine he is like him. Grown men who should be ferrying kids to Form 1 next year are moving about: hi five, loud splat as open palms meet, hug: Hey 'sup dude? Haw ya doin?

Jon Crunky or skunky is playing. This is the new music now? I must be really old. But then again my old man would surprised as such when Tupac or Biggie played and you bobbed your head. Pause for one moment and think: How will music (and by extension movies and other entertainment) be in 5 years? I get a headache when I think about.

Luckily, we are on our way.

Who knows. Today? I have only slept a total of 7-8 hours in 3 days. One Samborera is hiding deep under. Today is Reggae at MadHouse. Mmmmh.....

I am beginning to nod off. I ferry this rag of a machine home and then nap. circa 7:00 pm (ref future), stuff might start happening again. I just run you a line of cr#p, anyways baadaye.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

I against I

After a few discussions, the debate is on.
Al Pacino Vs Robert De Niro.
Tupac Vs Biggie
Nas Vs. Jay Z

Lets get to it.
In all of these, we are agreed that it is not clear cut. To quote aJamaa - though he'll swear he didn't say it (You said it yesterday man!) - if Al Pacino was better, he would be De Niro. If De Niro was better he'd be Al Pacino. There you go. I only have the views of 0.5 and aJamaa.

aJamaa is undecided. 0.5 is for Al Pacino. I go with De Niro. Why Al Pacino? I don't know, ask 0.5. I mean Al Pacino is a great actor. Godfather - Michael was THE Godfather. De Niro as a young Don Vitto didn't do so bad, but Pacino eclipsed him in that all time great. But I think after that DeNiro took over. An avalanche of movies. Ronin, Casino, Untouchables, Scarface - he has even been in comedies - Analyse This (very nice), Analyse That (so, so), Meet the Parents, Meet the Fockers. Both of them were in Heat. Both were amazing. I'm sure I am forgetting a bunch of movies they've both done. I go with De Niro.

Tupac Vs Biggie. We didn't have a discussion about them with the introverts, but there has been alot of that talk all over. Basically, this is about taste. To me, Biggie was more of a lyricist - if I can use that term. He was about cursive rhyming, saying funny sh1t in his rhymes. There was a very smooth flow to his music. Have very many favourites - One More Chance (remix), always catches me unawares, like I'm hearing it for the first time.
Tupac was more aggressive. More energy, an emcee. Get the crowd up and angry at something, get the women all hot under the collar. Thug Passion, Scandalous, Me Against The World, California Love, Toss It Up, Dear Mama (we all love that one), Keep your head up...
There is just so much Tupac out there, for me, he wins. For me it has to go
down to volume, because both of them were masters at their "type" of music.

Nas vs. Jay Z.
These two dudes were both dissed by Tupac. Jay Z claimed the throne after Biggie left. Nas was just that, Nas. As per our discussion yesterday with the introverts: We agreed, Jay Z is/was more of the commercial guy. All about the sales. Making music for people to bob their head to. And he's done some nice numbers. Off the top of my head I'm thinking - wishing on a star,
can't knock the hustle, guilty until proven innocent, the whole Blueprint album, part of Blueprint 2, didn't dig the black album that much. Anyways, in terms of volume, he is up there, good at his game. The difference between Jay Z and Nas was pointed out by Jay Z himself - Nas makes hot lines, Jay Z makes them into hot songs. Nas is more of the poetic, story teller type. And
for him - It ain't hard to tell. Street dreams, one mic, owe me back, hate
me now, ether, got yourself a gun - that album Illmatic - classic. aJamaa went with Jay Z, 0.5 opted out of this one, I went with Nas. Both have tapered off nowadays. Jay Z went and retired then came back. For me, the very act of retiring was a pointer - he had lost the war. Nas won.

All these is just trying to argue with yourself. Who do you love more. Me or
myself? I against I. Anyways, not necessary to pick sides.

A$$ 4 Days

Wednesday night. Left the office way past normal hours (sorry Mr. S, your
hours stopped being normal ages ago, so you can't relate). Anyways, 7.30 or
so, I leave the office, heading into tao. aJamaa is already at Veranda, beer
number 2 or so. 0.5 is making tracks towards the same meet. My wallet is
making resounding echoes, but a guy is going to get some liquor, all else is
secondary. 8.15, I'm in the building. Shake a few hands and finally get to
The Introverts Table. The guys are easy nothing much, unwinding. The usual
discussions take place, work sucks, Liverpool's are number 3, Arsenal are
just hopeless, Hate that Drogba dude, women are the devil incarnate, yes
that's why we can't stay away. aJamaa gives some story I can't elaborate on,
something about junk food and sex.

Anyways, the night is going okay. The place is abit quiet though. aJamaa is
feeling the effects and there is no designated driver. He still exudes some
calmness that makes us thinking he is jiving. The guy says if he has one
more pint, he won't be able to go anywhere, all in the same even tone he
always uses. He excuses himself. 0.5 and I keep it moving. We change seats -
had spotted some 4 females alone at a table somewhere. We move closer. It
soon dawns on us that all we've done is find more comfortable seats. I mean,
two women against one guy is hard enough. 4 against two is a multiple of the
odds, not necessarily twice as hard, maybe 4 times. Anyways, we sit back,
consume some more liquor and watch some 4 girls giggle about. We have had
enough, switch pubs.

Tropez. Ahhh yess. This is more like it. A$$ all over the place. This place
does things to a guys mood. Its all jovial now. Oh is it jovial. Off the bat
we are accosted by some female who claims to be from Coast, and she is happy
to meet some good guys. How do you know we are good guys? She says she can
just tell. There must have been alot of good guys in the place cause she was
all over the place. Anyways, more liquor, some guys doing their Karaoke
thing. We are seated next to some dude I am informed is probably gay. He
keeps asking for cigarettes. At some point he is informed not to make it a
habit. I mean, ask for one cigarette, don't expect to smoke my entire pack.
Crazy. Anyways, A$$!! I tell you. 0.5 and I are agreed, a woman in a skirt
(no matter the length) is just a great turn on. Now if the said woman is in
a white skirt, the kind with an uneven length - know them? they must have a
name - like some trapezium shape or something. Yeah, white trapezium skirt,
an A$$ for days, above average height (she was actually taller than most
guys in there), plus music video dance moves - dancing all of six feet in
front of you. That's why clubs were invented. A guy to have his drink
watching all that. Then Maureen shows up. Well, she says that's her name.
Anyways, I offer her a seat, she declines, she will sit later she says.
Fine. She stands some distance away. I am pulling the eyes thing. Okay fine,
I'm staring. 0.5 is also staring at someone behind me - says she looks like
some long lost love of his. Drink, stare. Drink, stare. Okay, have to go to
the gents. Pass near her, smile, can't stop now. Come back and ask 4 a
number. Get the number, go back to my seat. The day is already working fine.
Only one thing can top it off. And just to kill that thought, that one thing
didn't happen. Anyways, she comes over later on. We have a few laughs. Its
time to leave. She calls her cab guy (I think). We head off towards Hilton,
got to get home.

We have hardly done 20 steps, still rueing my "loss", Lo and Behold! More
A$$. And wait, they are two of them. Lets count. 0.5 and Kamikaze. Yes!
Perfect match. There go two insane men hastening their strides, almost
breaking into a run. Have to get to them! Now obviously, we don't know what
we are going to tell them once we catch up with them. Now these women were
another crop of above average height. I felt like I was safe walking with
them. And said as much. Asked them if we'd tag along - these streets are
dangerous this time of the day (it was close to 4 already). A guy would feel
much better walking with women of your stature. Whatever they thought, they
must have figured we didn't look threatening enough - just some nice guys.
So we keep walking in tandem. Names are sought. Mary and Clara. Oh Clara.
That's some back you got there girl. They are looking for food. What do you
know? So are we! Numbers are being sought in earnest. I have set my sights
on Clara. She is not giving up anything. Says she doesn't have a phone. I
ask for a relatives number so that I can talk to her. She isn't impressed.
Ambassaduer. Cops. I hadn't even noticed them, then Mary goes like "Sh1t!".
0.5 and I are nonplussed. We ask what the problem is, the officer starts a
story about the lateness of the hour. You want ID? I inquire. He cuts his
story short, says yes. I am busy getting mine, Clara is fumbling around in
her bag, Mary just stands there, thinking if she stays still the cop wont
notice her. 0.5 gets his out first, hands it over. The cop must have already
written us off. He notices something on 0.5's ID, about where he was born.
Aaah, he worked somewhere near there. Now we are all friends. He sends us on
our way. Mary starts breathing again. She lost her ID 5 years ago she says.
Utter nonsense. We get to a fries joint, as we are waiting in line the
ladies make a quick purchase and quiet getaway. Snap! Another loss. We
finish up, head home.

Wednesday 20th - Happy Birthday Mr. Sam. You are old, sorry, one year older.

While You Were In The Office

Just got to the office. 9.15 I think it was. 0.5 should have gotten to his
place of work (why can't I just say his office?) around the same time.
Anyways, its crazy out there.

First of all, if you leave the house around 8.40, you will have no hassles
getting a mat. Is that crazy or what? But the weird part is all the
commotion. I mean, there is noise! I don't know, perhaps its louder if you
slept at 4.30am and woke up at 7.50. There are car crashes (mathrees are
definitely involved) - this dude - the mathree driver - has clearly hit the
rear end of some guy's Subaru. There he was loudly proclaiming the Subaru
guy's mistakes. Didn't get much, but the gist of it was the Subaru guy
didn't take a corner well or some stuff like that.

Then in the mat I was taking to the office, first mat cause I need to take
two mats to the office, the guy wants to charge me 40bob. Another crazy guy.
Crazy first because I don't take the mat all the way to tao, and I usually
pay a pao. These are the sort of guys you ignore. Then when the guy realises
you won't budge (I was giving the guy 30bob, should have been thankful), he
will slowly come back for the cash. Ati "Gari ni 40", then the guy walks
away like I shall be thoroughly embarrassed by the situation and chase him
with the 40bob.

After that, I met another makanga stuck to the mat door. These small Nissans
(or Toyota Sharks - I say Nissans the way all motorbikes were/are called
Hondas - at least all guys from the mtaa used to do that.). Yeah, so the guy
is either being arrested by some plain clothes cops or he is going to be
thoroughly roughed up by some aggravated customer. Either option wasn't
appealing to the dude so he held fast to the sliding door, which came off
its rail, hanging precariously, the guy not letting go, shirt askew, the
cop/angry citizen grunting away trying to break his grip - that was all I
had time for, had to keep moving.

Further up, a bunch of guys standing outside a mat cause some cop has
grabbed the keys. Whatever had happened I don't know. But guys are standing
around looking vexed, the cop has crossed to the other side of the road,
perhaps fearing a riot of sorts.

All this between 8.40 and 9.10, when I got my final mathree and made my way
to the office, passed my boss like he was invisible and sat down to do some
work (blogging is work by the way). I tell you, its crazy out there, guys
don't see sh1t while in the office. And its hot too. Even in here.

Wednesday night...

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Phonetics and Phonology

Monday, 7:00 PM
There is a national-hurrrraaaaaaaaay! holiday the following day so I am just about to enter a bar to do what I do best. One Eric is paying me back a towering 1000 bob. I am liking the thought.

Nothing of note happens.

Kamikaze has already arrived. It is 11:00 PM and it is still too early. To Veranda. We check in and some women are already checking us out. Is this a great country or what?
A coin starts spinning on the table and heads says that Kamikaze is making the first move. Another guy arrives before any move can be made.

The coin spins again. I and another fellow are to make two parallel moves on two women sitting together. I freeze. Kamikaze takes potshots at me and the booze takes over.
How is this for an opener:
I: You are f*g intimidating you know that? But I figured, you can't swallow me whole, ....only in bits, so I took my chances.
She smiled. A boy still has it.
She: Oh, I am not intimidating.
I: Really, I have just used next year's reserve of courage to walk up here.
That smile again.
She: Approaching me should not be so hard. Whats the most scary thing you have ever done?
I: Ran away with a 30 year old woman when I was in Form 3 (not true, never done that) ....
And so on and so forth.

I convinced them to join our table. I tend to run out of ideas once the initial madness has passed. The boys did not waste any time.
When these two come over, another lady comes (from the company that was checking us out earlier) and buzzes in my ear: "its just not fair".
Out of the blues, the issue of campus came about. Alas the two ladies are students at the University of Nairobi, where one Kamikaze enrolled for a course in "Phonetics and Phonology".

Kamikaze's mastery of the strange subject matter is just amazing. They sat, in rapt attention as musical nuances to speaking were explained. Then people started kissing. Ahhhhhh?

I still have the number.

5:00 AM. Everyone departed home. Our silent friends were left with the women.

Monday, December 11, 2006

Excel + ODBC

I have data in around 50 spreadsheets that I want to combine into a database or single file. Apparently MSF provide an ODBC for Excel which I have successfully used to create a connection to a worksheet. But I cannot tell the table names in the 'database'.

Help ajamaa out.

Friday, December 08, 2006

You asked for it...

If memory serves me right (it usually never does), there was a program on KBC (had to be KBC, as VOK?, or was it KTN?) - there was a program that started like that "..caaauuse - You Asked For It!". Can't remember what it was about.

However, that line always comes to mind whenever the subject of women
crosses my mind.

Remember 20yr old? Yeah? Well, I had plastered it all over this blog how I was breaking up with her, didn't know how to do it, then decided to just up and leave. Someone on this blog called me a mouse (Nawapenda Wooote).
Anyways, I actually up and left. Then went back. Wait, wait. Let me explain.
There was a sort of break-up, with me claiming a need for space and time on my own, to get my mind right (I ask you! What sort of excuse is that? She should have asked what is wrong with my mind. Can it ever be fixed?). She wanted to know how much time I needed. I mumbled one month, then changed my mind and went for three months. I figured three months was long enough for her to forget about me, and for me to have hooked up somewhere else. After a bit of crying, the situation seemed untenable to her so she left (never ever break up with someone at your place!).
Anyways, one night out (weekday) I was having a drink with some dude from mtaani. There was soccer showing. One thing led to another and Sambukas were sought. After about 5 hours of drinking, taking two shots of Sambuka is just a bad move. Seeing as to we were just the two of us there, smses started flying. I think I smsed all the women in my phone book, trying to get a bearing on their locations. Then I slipped and smsed her (20yr old). I know you are asking why I hadn't deleted her number. I actually had, then she kept calling (almost thought she would turn out to be a stalker - that would have been fun eh? Being stalked and all), so I re-saved her number (I have
this policy - don't know if it is self defeating - Know Thy Enemy - If you don't want to talk to someone, delete the number, but if the person persists, by calling, smsing, please call me and all, then keep the number so that you know which number not to respond to. If you don't have the number you might end up taking that person's call...more crap. I digress.). So, I re-saved her number.

The rest as the say, "...caaauuse - You Asked For It!".

Things haven't changed. We got back together because I was a bit randy. Spineless bugger you say? I don't object. Did I have other choices? Well, they might appear as choices, but I thought (at that point) that 20yr old was the lesser evil. What folly. She still wants to see me everyday, hear from me after every few hours, see me when she wants to.

Last Saturday (this is particularly vexing because after talking to other women (girls?), it seems that it is actually standard practise). She insists she wants to buy me lunch, her treat she says. I have no problem with that. We meet around lunch time, order food, get to eating. The bill comes and she gets temporary blindness. I sort out the bill. It is never mentioned again.
She forgets completely that she was buying lunch. Anyways, we relax. The Arsenal game should be starting soon on DSTV. She starts getting fidgety. She wants to leave, wants to go home. I get confused. Thought I told her there is soccer coming on at 3.45. Lets watch the game then we can leave after. She stays quiet. Do I have to watch the game - she asks. I reply that I don't have to do anything, but I would like to watch the game. She goes into this please loop. Please, please, please....I excuse myself to the gents. Come back, hoping the issue is dead. She starts again. I stay quiet.
Getting upset. She says then she will leave. Silence is acquiescence I think. She drags that moment for a while then gets up. I bid her farewell.
Things calm down. aJamaa shows up...Later in the evening, she sends an sms "pitia hm" - this from experience means "pass by home". Note, she is not asking, she is telling me to pass by home. Naturally I am concerned. I ask what the matter is, there has to be something wrong for her to want me to pass by home. She replies that nothing is actually wrong, and forget it anyway, don't pass by. I say its okay.

Fast Forward - This week, we had some activities concerning work and our community week. Being part of the committee organising stuff, I was abit busy. Wednesday evening, had to buy stuff for the children's home we were going to - books, pencils, pens, some food, stuff like that. Was in town at 6.30, had to get back to the office, then head out. We were supposed to meet at home but since it was already late, I sent a message hoping to do it the next day. She doesn't even reply.
Next day, Thursday, we were actually presenting the stuff at the home. We had made good time, then our transport back to the office disappeared for about an hour and a half. She asks where I am, she's been waiting. I tell her I am still trying to get home. She decides we forget about it. I say its ok. I get home relax. Eat sleep. Wake up in the morning and find a message on my phone, sent around 11pm (I am always out like a light, sleep like a big log). She says that something always has to come up when we are supposed to meet (two days!!! two days of unavoidable hindrances and she accuses me
of creating obstacles). B0ll0cks.

I asked for it. Now I'm back to rueing ever meeting her. Like 0.5 says, 20 (something)s fall awfully short.
30 year olds? What a dream. Haven't had the pleasure.

More Must Have Movies:

Star Wars Trilogy (including the "prequels" that came out recently)
Godfather Trilogy (first and second were just amazing, third is nothing to shout about, but a guy should just have it).
Usual suspects.
Italian Job (would you believe I still haven't watched this one yet? 0.5 said he had it then it disappeared.)
Heat (the longest gun-fight I have ever seen, ear-numbing, teeth-chattering, eye-popping sound - ack ack ack ack ack ack - on and on)
Scarface.
Untouchables (just to see De Niro and Sean Connery in action).

More later.

Next post? De Niro VS Al Pacino. Okay, you can start without me.

This n That

I had the previlege of organizing a meeting yesterday. It is a harrowing experience. Sending the invite was not enough, you have to call the buggers one by one, to remind them that they agreed to attend the meeting. I am not against the ladies here, but they drag their legendary lateness into office matters as well. There are rumours doing the rounds that I am a bit gruff and unprofessional in the way I do things. They would prefer my manager to run the show. Hmmmmm.....
Actually, I would prefer my manager to run the show. I bet this came from a conversation I had with a colleague.

Her: I won't make the meeting.
I: Another engagement? I checked your calendar, it was free.
Her: Something came up.
I: Can you send someone to represent you?
Her: Who?
I: How the f* do I know? I didn't say that
I: Anyone who has authority to make decisions on your behalf?
Her: Just postpone the meeting (not a request, an order)
I: Errr,..no. Can't
Her: Well, you will just have to do without me.
I: Thats fine. I will send you a copy of the decisions that will be made.
Her: You can't do that! (Righteous indignation) There are action points which my input is needed.
I: Then in that case I shall initial your decision points as pending your review and proceed with the rest of the stuff.

She turned up. That usually works. No one likes their name to be associated with the delay of a project.

Must Have Movies:
Sin City
Gladiator
The Quick and The Dead (Gene Hackman is brilliant in this one)
Analyze This
Kill Bill
Man on Fire (Remember that line: Forgiveness is between them and God, mine is to arrange the meeting.[Wham! Blows a guy off with a bazooka] One of the best lines scripted, ever)
Matrix (first one)
Red Rock West (not many people have watched this one)
The Terminator (second)

Star Studded cast, Huge disappointment
Royal Tenenbaums
Duplex
SWAT
Swordfish (ABSOLUTE GARBAGE!!!!!!!)
Red Planet


Gentlemen, how are 30 year-old or therebouts women? These 20 somethings fall awfully short.

Monday, December 04, 2006

99 was a very good year ....

On my way to work today morning, I noticed that the lads and lasses at UoN are graduating today. That brings many happy memories, a few funny ones and uncomfortable ones.

Four years earlier when I was joining, my parents called a priest. The priest prayed, long and hard. He then lectured on for an hour about sex and drugs to a stone-faced, unblinking 0.5. Those guys do hard work.

Checked in with about 27,000 pocket money for the first semester of the first year. I had never before owned such an amount of money in my life. The joy of meeting high school mates who had enrolled in the same college or better still the same class, was great. Got thoroughly plastered the following Thursday (at Mamba) and attended my first class drunk. Bad precedent.

@Mamba. Under the influence talked to a really fly chic and had some measure of success. I mean she was smiling and patting my back. Can't remember what I was saying though. And yes, I got a number. 325 Wing A, Box. Or something like that.

Her name was either Nancy or Mercy. The brain cells that stored that information have since died. I met her exactly two days later on my way to Box, to her room. I stood infront of her and croaked a nervous, high spirited 'Hi' and extended my hand. She looked me from bottom to top, wore this look of total bewilderment and deftly sidestepped me. I stood there like an idiot. Guys passing around thought it was funny.

Went clubbing Jax (the modern day Seasons, kimathi street) on Saturday with a 3 year pal from shags who was also at my high school. He was accompanied by mature women from Med school. I must have looked like a freshly harvested cabbage, thoroughy wet behind the ears because after we all got high, they teased me as if I was a 12 year old: You said your name was? Hey, dont stand there, come sit on mama. Feel that,huh? I was an idiot! I was pulling my hand away from the warm nether regions it was being guided to and blushed till I was blue. Some chic please try that on me now.

Spirits ruled. Guiness tasted like water.

Breakfast of Champions: That was served at Rosina. It constituted a rich cup of tea, a well filled mandazi and a kebab. Split said mandazi along its longitudinal axis. Slip in the kebab. That didn't come out right. Special sandwich for only 40 bob. The breakfast was at 10:00. It was incomprehensible to eat anything before that. Seats were outside. The 17-18 year old female doctors-to-be with money and cars were just breathtaking.
0.5 would momentarily stop breathing when Object J passed by to get her breakfast (The nickname is inspired by a discipline in my profession ...and hers too!... called OOAD. Yaani, she was an instance of a perfect class.)

Sitting under the Big Tree: The 17-18 year old Meds passed outside the institute, infront of the big tree to their lecture halls. This usually took place after tea break during class time! Yet no one would budge from under the tree until the complete file of about 200 young beatiful para chics passed. And boy they took their time! Orwa (a lecturer), would get hot under the collar after passing by while heading to class. He would find one or two chaps in the class and start the lecture. 45 minutes we would stumble in, thoroughly happy, and then we would be chased out. At some point, he gave up.
Pendant? Hmmmm......She goes to the file of unfinished business for one Kamikaze. Or should I say unstarted business?

Midnight Drama: Some guys had made a sport of picking women from K-Street and bringing them to the halls of residence. Lets say there were all manner of payment disputes. This must have been the stuff the priest prayed about.

Mathematics: if you thought high school maths was hard, try undergrad maths. They said it was something to do with expanding your mind. I can assure without a shadow of doubt that your mind not only got expanded, it got bent, twisted and stretched until it broke. Then the alcohol would mend it right back again in preparation for more abuse. Otherwise we would all have been hospitalised.

Cold War on Prolog and Pithon: If Maths was hard, Prolog was impossible. There was this interesting problem about a guy who married a woman who had an adult daughter. The daughter married the guy's dad. It became so intricate that the guy became his father's father. A variation can be found hereNow, in this logic thing, you were supposed to reduce that to sound and coherent mathematical equations! Crazy. Anyway, Pithon was the teacher. He issued an impossible test on one bright morning. Well the best I could do was write my name on the paper and chill out. Flipped through the entire paper and could not write anything more. Why waste a guy's time? After trying to convince Pithon to drop the test and not succeeding, we resulted to being sullen, uncooperative and refused to talk to the guy. The whole class was depressed. It worked. He probably figured: These morons! Whats there to lose? The test was dropped from the final score.

Solid: It is actually liquid and could fuel a rocket. We drunk it with gusto. A Sh 100 helping was enough to knock flat three men. There were rooms that were established bars for Solid. The stuff was measured by a small petri-dish like container. Sh 30 per unit. It was so clear; May be its because it dissolved anything that came into contact with it. The litmus test for purity was spreading some on the back of your hand or lighting a match to it. You felt a cold sensation as it quickly evaporated. After one of these, we were ready to go rock F3.

Mamlaka Chicken: Pure delight for only 60 bob.

CCU: Chama Cha Ugali; This was the place to go when there was no sixte for Mamlaka chicken. There was a healthy dish called 'Rivaldo'. No 11. Ugali and sukuma that had been dipped in steaming water for only 3 minutes and yanked out for human consumption. I say there are more humane ways to kill people. The gourmet dish was served for 11 shillings. One would produce smile that not even the girlfriend gets in the hope that the guy serving will drop in a laddle of beef soup, or matumbo soup to at least hustle the brittle vegetables and coarse ugali down. Usually all one got was a cryptic "Sioni supu kwa hii receipt yako" and a look that could melt ice to match.

Just loved the bare backs and swimming costumes on Saturday afternoon at the swimming pool. Such stark contrast. One stone's throw away is the horrible CCU, and right next is the pool. On occasion, you would get to show a frightened girl how to float on water. Fantastic. Pure bliss. Imagine a puny 0.5 acting like Superman, holding some curvaceous woman by her back as she flaps her legs about...

It was a long four years so I will stop now.

Getting a life a.k.a Living dangerously

I had promised myself to stop quoting aJamaa, correctly or otherwise, but there's a reason he was [is] referred to as 'brilliant'.

Something he said recently really made an impression. Now, I've been told countless times to 'get a life'. Probably because I've always been the epitome of cautiousness and conservatism. [There's a time I blamed my early childhood for this, but I'll be turning 27 in a couple of weeks and somehow that excuse doesn't quite have the same weight as it used to] I'm also a no-frills person. I don't have a fancy mobile phone, don't wear designer [in fashion?] outfits, eat at fancy places or generally do much 'fun' stuff. I like safe and familiar. New stuff is scary.

The result is that I've spent most of my life watching others live. [For a long time I actually felt like I was in a movie] The other reason for this state of mind was an uncertainty of what I'm here for. I also tend[ed] to get bored rather easily. Once I know I can do something, there's little enthusiasm left for it. Especially if it's something other people harp about. So I sit, and watch. My apparent tendency to think too much holding me in place.

Getting older has brought clarity to many things, and realities closer home. I still find myself struggling to do what seems to come naturally to most other people. To live. I feel, though, like I'm at a turning point. As I do every other week.

A smile across the room

Sato night. I give Kamikaze a call. He's at the Verandah. Still. We were meant to meet up earlier in the day but I was working. My body was telling me to go home but my mind wanted to experience something other than work or home. It prevailed.

I check into the pub and see Kamikaze, 0.5 and one of the resident doctors. They're looking all relaxed and happy, seated at a table with like 10 women. I want to run away. My mind isn't prepared. I reluctantly join them. I'm surprised there's space to sit, given it's an end month weekend. We sit, talk, catch up.

I don't fail to notice the number of striking women all around. I still get amazed. One in particular was seated at a table across ours. And she kept looking in our direction. Not glancing. Kamikaze looks at me, I look at him. Ala? I'm terrible with names and faces, but this one I would not have forgotten.

On a couple of occassions as I was looking around the place, our eyes meet. She smiles. I smile back. She holds the gaze. I start to blush. I look away. There was a time when I would have walked up to her and said something. Now I just looked down and drew circles with my feet. At some point she was pointing, as she talked to one of the guys seated with her. Probably pointing out the shy guy at the corner.

We finally upped to leave. Passed by her table to find out what the intrigue was about. "You're leaving?". "Yes. Would you like me to stay?". She replies in the affirmative. I look at her, then at the guy she's with. My mind is looking for a response. Looking really hard. It only manages to come up with my favourite excuse. Fatigue. Plus I'm working on Sunday. From early. Besides, I console myself, I don't like being a third wheel. Or is it a third leg. "I thought so", she goes. I've become too predictable. I mumble something to the effect that we could meet each other some other time, some place. We both know this will likely never happen.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

The Matrix

I got to the office today sure that I was going to post something. What it was I didn't know. Still don't know.
But I guess Matrix is a good way to go. Yes, that one, with The One,
Morpheus, The Oracle, Trinity and not to be left out, one Mr. Smith.

Last night, a couple of introverts were out about town. Wait, let me
rephrase that. A couple of introverts were drinking. Three introverts to be exact, 0.5, aJamaa and yours truly Kamikaze. Nothing amazing, basically consuming liquor ,looking at a$$ pass by and bugging about our own ineptness at getting alot of a$$. Emphasis on alot, because a guy can get some. Anyways, at some point, we had consumed enough and since I was supposed to be working that very same day (it was probably already 3 am by then), we decided that was that.
But we didn't get far. A certain dude, we shall call him "He with the foul mouth, and a brain to match", had asked us to pass by a joint he was at, which had a plenty of minors. aJamaa had already tried his luck with some female, still don't know if he at least got a number, so he was game to check out a few underage girls. Okay not that way, as in under 23. Relax, I'm getting to Matrix. And if this post is all over the place, don't worry about it. I'm still high. Can't believe I actually got to the office, after getting home at 5 in the am. 0.5 and aJamaa should still be asleep right now. Hate those guys.

Anyways, we check in, have a sit, order a pint each then get to discussing movies. I mean, what else do we discuss? How did it start? I think there was a Van Damme movie showing on some of the Tellies. I proclaimed I'd never seen it before, Foul-Mouth was perplexed, 0.5 took one look and thought it was a Bruce Willis movie (it was close to 4 am, the eyes see, brain has stopped thinking, confusion). I think we talked about Kill Bill and Pai Mei's 5 point heart exploding technique (don't you just love that word technique? - it shows a guy knows what he's doing). Oh yeah, we got to Pai Mei cause we were trying to find the Baddest Bad Guy in movies. Nominees: Nicholas Cage/John Travolta in Face Off (that was aJamaa's), Pai Mei (0.5), Marwan of 24 season 4 (Foul Mouth, seconded by myself), Theodore Bagwell from Prison Break (aka T-Bag - collabo between 0.5 and Kamikaze). Then we got sidetracked when someone (was it aJamaa?) mentioned Mr. Smith.
We are all in agreement, I think, when I say that Matrix, the first one, was brilliance. I lack the diction to explain this. An amazing movie? Definitely. But that does not define it. I mean, the movie just starts and you see Trinity floating the air, defying gravity in such an inexplicable manner, jumping, sorry flying, from one building to the next.
At some point Foul-Mouth vowed that there was a time he knew the entire movie word for word. I don't doubt him. I think I almost could, or tried. Watched the movie at least 5 times. First time I didn't get it. Second time it started making "sense". Third time was just affirmation of its brilliance. 4th time was just another hit off the pipe - was already hooked. 5th was abuse. And I'll do it again.

Mr. Smith: Suave? (What does that word mean?) Slow talking, fastest moving guy on the face of the earth. "Miissterr Annderssonn, (pause) you (slight pause) diss-a-ppoint me. What good is a phone-call (slight pause) if-you-can't ssspeeeak?".
Morpheus: "Why did I beat you? Is it because I am faster? Stronger? You think any of that matters in here? You think that is air you are breathing right now? (Turns his back on Neo, walks a few paces and without turning...) Again".
The Oracle: "Don't worry about the Vase." Neo goes like "What Vase?" Turns to look for it and sends it crashing to the floor. "That Vase". I think somewhere in that dialog The Oracle asks Neo what he thinks would have happened had she not told him about the Vase.
Trinity: "...I am not afraid anymore. You see when I met The Oracle, she told me that I would fall in love with The One. So you see...you can't be dead Neo, because I love you (long kiss) Now get up!".
Neo: I don't know what to say. Memorable quotes? All I see in my mind right now is him stopping bullets, seeing stuff in binary, green ones and zeros. Kicking Sentinel a$$ (were they called sentinels or were sentinels those machines that rip apart any moving thing?).

Anyways, the party broke up later, each of us fading into the darkness of early morning.
I still think we could have gotten a better list of Baddest Bad Guys, if it were abit earlier. I think Darth Vader got in there somewhere. But I think he's just scary. I don't think we were looking for a villain, rather, we were looking for a twisted guy, tormenting guys, not just going about hacking guys to death. Or what was our aim? Is there a difference? Bad Guy and Villain? I must be crazy, don't think there is a difference. New Entrant: Anthony Hopkins - Silence Of The Lambs; Bad Guy. aJamaa had also proposed that dude in usual suspects (I can't spell the name - Kaiser?) I'll
go look for bad guys.

Next post - Must have movies in your collection.
Okay, you can go ahead and start that one without me.

And now, I have said enough cr@p <mailto:cr@p> in one post. I am still awake. One more hour and I am out of here. Working on Saturday should be outlawed. It is a crime against humanity.

Friday, December 01, 2006

It's in the accent

So I was chatting on the phone with my newest acquaintance the other day. At some point we both started talking swa. I can remember one time in campus when I had to vibe/katia/tune a chic in swa. Or more accurately the Kenyan version. Those were interesting times, and it was a bit tough I must say. But interesting. I grew up speaking swa, but at some point we started talking English, even at home. And a lot of small kids these days are amazingly fluent in English.

Now, she has a kind of deep voice, which has definite allure to it. But then I also noticed the accent. Or the way she spoke. Like a coasterian. [I hear it being called costa rica these days]. I'm not sure what it is about people from that part of the country or how they speak, but it's really refreshing. And the stereotypes of women from the coast playing on my mind only made for more excitement.

For what it's worth, I don't think she's from the coast. Apparently she'd been studying in the land of the Baganda for a while. [And she says she's not too impressed by Kenyan guys. I didn't ask too many questions] It's probably a good thing that she's fluent in swa cause her SMSs are cryptic. I have to literally read between the lines [read guess] to try and figure out what she's saying. Like poetry in high school. And it's the same for majority of chics in Generation X that I've met. [I can't believe I'm experiencing the generation gap we used to here or talk about when we were younger]