Thursday, August 30, 2007

The cycle of lov...lust.

Has to be lust. I have a problem with the word 'love'; Unless we are referring to family, money or beer.
I love beer.
See? That was not so hard.

There are too many beautiful women in Nairobi, and not enough time or money. Not that time or money will guarantee you their favour, but both certainly help. Money is what fuels a chase, wouldn't you agree? Unless you can get mobile phone firms to allow you to call for free for instance. Or JavaHouse to give away cupfuls of fancy coffee and over-rated mandazis. There is a nice thought. I digress.

A day will not pass before I see a beautiful woman and go Wow! She looks great. Today it was an Ethiopian goddess in the mathree. Jeez! God personally handcrafted that one on a bright sunny morning - didn't use the mill. And I will want to 'own' her. Or I envy the guy who 'owns' her. Lucky bastard. Mostly I will be thinking along lines that are not very noble. On a weird day I accumulate enough cojones to actually do something about it. My old friend, Tusker, will usually have something to do with it (I have approached precisely one woman when sober - and even then it was after the 'snap' thing, due to stress). So that says a lot about my level of confidence - irrelevant. Approached damsel might or might not pour cold water on my efforts. You know the drill. They have done studies and there are statistics everywhere.

Statistically, a guy is supposed to get lucky every now and then. Sometimes even spectacularly lucky. For instance if one gets spectacularly lucky, you hook up with a girl who has no qualms whatsoever about putting out. She is like ho who never tires, only without the money. Bad analogy, I know.
You:Monday at 1 pm? I will sneak from jobo ...
Her:Fine, but I only have a 30 minute window ..
At 3:45 pm that same Monday.
Again? After work?..
Sure
Man this is the stuff dreams are made of. It goes great. With that much tapping, even dates, buying pizza and standing the awful crowd at Burgerdome become tolerable. A guy discovers movies (not the DVD versions), tests a fancy new drink that is green in colour and has a weird spanish name. Walks. Exercise is grand! There are fantastic obstacle courses - like unhooking a bra with the left hand while facing the other side - with unbelievable promised rewards if the examinee passes. And so it goes. There is brightness and sunny dispositions everywhere ..

Then it starts losing allure. You have seen that behind and breasts enough times that it does not evoke high temperatures and temporary madness anymore. You are sedate and sated. Like a cat with a gallon of rich, creamy milk in it. Then there is always a downside to some women. You don't notice at first because you too busy devouring her. Suddenly she is all in your space!
Bloody woman is here all the f****** time!
She begins to irritate you. Or begins to fall too deep. Saying crazy weird stuff. Crying. All at a cross with your noble intentions of keeping things light, short and fast. You start trying to create some room for yourself,..more drinking, soccer, movies, somber moods,..the infamous wall of silence. Chics notice this kind of thing very quickly.
You don't want to hit it anymore. Or you do it with the same enthusiasm you had for cleaning duty back in high school.
You are BORED.
She sees it as blatant rejection and a row erupts. She confronts you.
Are you seeing someone else?
Why wont you love me? (hihi - you all know what I mean ....)
What's your problem?

She walks out on you because is annoyed, or you are actually stupid and blurt out "Yeah I am seeing someone else" just to get rid of her. Point is she is out. The gods of fortune who had smiled upon you get very angry.

Wells run dry.

For months on end you don't get any. Or you get someone who wrings you dry and just hands you wary hugs (no hands please!). Token sex. She thinks once every 5 months is plenty. And for 10 minutes each performance! Eviction notices are out before the tenant can occupy the house. She is catching a flight to Westlands. Crap.

And so it goes. One can't help wondering: How will this stranger turn out in say a month's time? There are always sides. Life is cruel. No one escapes some sort of boredom. Even if the chic is Giselle Bundchen or Gabrielle Union. Ask Jay-Z (if you can meet him somewhere......). Got royally bored with Beyonce's ass. There has to be something

2 Comments:

Blogger DomQueM said...

Interesting!
Always a cracker from the celtelese.
Keep up the spirit bro!

Your blog is one of the best and this is where i always land when am bored DEBUGGING some silly perl script code taht has refused to run without any apparent reason, ONLY to run the next day after giving up and doing totally nothing ot the code.

Oh, your blog is also one of my many places i get my Inspirations from lol :-)
[]

Thursday, August 30, 2007 2:03:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

This stuff, you need i when you need it. a chic is there to be screwed. raw, dirty and true.

Oh oh oh . don't kill me . i am bored too. Passion is reserved for the 1st 4 f*cks at most.

This is very resaasuring. I thot my dick was ass reperrant

Tuesday, October 09, 2007 2:20:00 PM  

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