Sunday, June 22, 2008

Cool? Try frozen nuts.

Westlands has more snotty people per square kilometre than any other place in the whole of Kenya. Residing in Westlands is seen as a mark of achievement by Nairobi people. So the snotty traipse all over the place, noses held high to breathe that good air. Which is all good. If you have purchased a house there, and drive a new Lexus RX300, by all means, feel sweet, rub it in.

I am at work on Saturday night (yeah I dont have much of a life), I feel hungry and walk to get a burger from Mobil on the run (the one next to The Mall). I find kids standing there, others in cars, playing loud music and sipping Alvaro. There are some chics wearing a variety of short skirts and low cut tops. Fancy jeans on the chaps. Jewellery. Oh..there were red rugby tops everywhere. What a bunch of idiots. When did drinking juice outside a petrol station supermarket become entertainment? WTF? Where is your imagination you bumbling morons? It is freezing outside. You can only stand outside in freezing cold, drinking cold juice just to impress if you have the IQ of a plant. Go to a club for crying out loud. Bribe the bouncers if there is an age limit. I doubt there is any bouncer who will refuse you entry if you wave Shs 200 in his face. Drink beer, or hard liquor like all the other spoilt kids who know how to have fun do.

Then there are the chutes. Its like they have just discovered sin. Its an epidemic. The last time I was in coast, I discovered they had completely taken over Florida nightclub, the one next to the sea, and fuc**d everything up by playing intolerable bhangra music the whole night. We were about 3 africans in the whole fuc*** place. Cr*p! Mombasa lost a part of its soul when Florida became an indian affair. Now, there are young men in jeans, earrings and nappy, dyed hair competing with the rest of us for african chics. Other dudes dont get to go for Indian chics. No no. What happened to the waifer thin, astute, conservative and business sharp young Indian man? If you guys go back to thinking you are too good to mingle with us african chaps and ladies, the world will be better off believe me.

Friday, June 13, 2008

The spinach moment

Been having problem getting any water in my flat. That concides with my new resolve to cook at my house or stop buying cooking gas. More like be abit responsible and may be save a few coins along the way. Such hard earned savings could be wasted on other things apart from chicken, sodas and french fries.
That's how i found out that 2 tomatoes cost sh.20. mad heh? how do normal people survive. Worse still if u have kids with appetite. Suicide is coming from many guys. Watch all spaces. That reminds me that the people of Baringo are busy roasting rats. watching news these days is just gross.
Now i buy spinach, tomatoes, onions, hoho, dania and crap like that. 30 mins, mchuzi rojo rojo and ugali is ready. see MJ, u can actually cook.
The next morning, i bend for a long call and the liquids take over. this is poisoning. I didn't wash the delicacies. my oh my. distilled sewage is moving along my veins. the joints are getting weaker.
There a reason men should not cook . sewage. Try jik on salad. Next time you bend for a long call and it gets shorter, look back to your last meal.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008


I promised some client that I would sit in at a training session from 5.30 to evaluate how well the session is carried out. The session will cover some software that I will never use. So I will be seated there like a damn idiot thinking how wonderful it would be to be at home watchin soccer, sitting in traffic or even watching grass grow. How do I get myself into these things? Why can I not say no? My problems can be traced to yesterday afternoon when one of my bosses called me up and asked if I could sit in through some training sessions for the next three days. I could simply have said, "I would like to but I am busy with the ten other things that I am already working on". But no. I dont know how to do that I agreed and now I am sitted here stressed. Talking about stress I think I a about to crack. I go to bed tired and wake up even more tired, I am sleepy from morning to evening. And for the first time spending time on the treadmill does not reduce the 'My house of cards is about to collapse filling'. Things are so thick I want to cry. I cannot even keep track of the things that I was supposed to do but failed to do. I am a dead man walking sooner or later they will realise I am a lazy, incompetent idiot who has managed to fool them for the last five years.

One of these days I will just burst into tears and like a little girl. I could always skive the meeting, I have messed around with this client so much I dont think we have a reputation left. Its actually in my interest not to go. If I go I will suffer on my way there, suffer while there, and suffer having to do a report. But If I dont go I will be seated here or in traffic feeling very guilty. Wish the sky would just fall on our heads and take us out of our misery.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

How did it happen

It probably started a while back. And asking the question why is often futile.

Probably gained momentum slowly, until one saturday afternoon a guy thinks to himself. Rather than sleep [anybody know any hobbies? Apart from going to the gym], let me pop into the office and do xyz. Just like that, and a guy is well on his way to becoming a workaholic.

It hit me the other day. Real hard. I'm not one to linger in denial [either that or I have some serious subliminal reverse psychology stuff going] so I figured something needs to change. I need to change. Can't remember the last time I stopped a gorgeous woman in the street, it's that bad. Well I can. You don't forget that kind of thing. But. I'm not sure how it happened. One day you're an introvert who [very] occasionally has interesting encounters, and a couple of years down the line you're an introvert who rarely speaks.

Can't blame the job. Not really. I don't have to do anything. So why do I do what I do. Why's a futile question. Guys at work started making jokes about me [not] going home or showing up on weekends ages ago. Now the folks at home wear a permanent look of concern. The world won't end if I leave the office at 5 [although 0.5 did equate that with some sort of dream]. It'll end in 2012. So urgent stuff will maybe get done next week. Or next month. That's what happens anyway cause there's always something else that's more urgent that comes along. And, if I may quote someone else, the worst they can do is fire me. So I should do like everyone else, and run for the door at check out time. And find a reason not to come to the office over the weekend. But I don't fancy [coffee] dates. And the thought of doing the dance of death isn't too appealing. [Lame] Excuses excuses.

Thursday, June 05, 2008


Hey there.
Sitting in the office awaiting my fate. You guys know about it.
Crazy stuff eh? Well, you guys guessed it right most of the time. Just couldn't bring myself to say "You know what fellers? Yes! That's exactly what I'm doing. But keep it on the hush...."
It always comes out in the end. Tried to tell myself I'd be ready, but I don't think you can be ready for this. Maybe you can, I just wasn't.
Made my mom cry again. This one is bad.

Anyways, you guys keep the blog moving. Don't anticipate writing much after this.
The Kamikaze has taken a nasty dive.