The Chick-Code.

Having recently posted The Bro-Code,I’m quite sure that bros will not appreciate me posting a girl-code.However,take note that most girls don’t even know that there exists a girl-code.So,bear with me.

All new chick-code.

Chicks are the most complicated human beings in the entire universe (aliens included…Duh!).For this reason,the chick code is bound not to be adhered to and is therefore not as binding as the Bro-Code.Also,take note that this article was written by a bro so on account that it may not be completely accurate,chicks are allowed to comment on their views in the comment section.

RULES & REGULATIONS OF THE CHICK CODE.
1)Chicks before dicks -The bond between women SHOULD be tight and no guy SHOULD come ‘between‘ two chicks.
NOTE:As a guy however,I have to observe that this 1st rule is bullshit.The fact is and will continue to be that chicks hate other chicks.Especially if that chick is hotter.
2)A Chick never divulges the existence of the Chick oath (choath) to a man. It is a sacred oath not to be shared with guys for any reason.<Even marriage.>
3)Whether she cares about shopping/shoes/clothes/makeup/etc or not, a Chick cares about the aforementioned.
4)A Chick never admits that she’s PMSing to a guy, not even when she is PMSing.
5)A Chick never pays for anything. Ever!!
6)The favorite color of all chicks shall always be pink. And none other than pink.
7)A chick can act as slutty as she wants as long as she has had or pretended to have 4 beers,it is her birthday, has just been dumped,at a funeral,at a wedding.
8)If two chicks get into a fight, they shall make catty remarks and pretend to ignore each other rather than simply stripping down and wrestling it out.
9)A chick shall never use the side mirror for applying lipstick while driving the car.It is extremely dangerous since it messes up her hair!!
10)A Chick shall always demonstrate an absolute lack of commonsense. Especially, if she is really hot!!

Hot =No common sense.

11)A Chick shall never leave the house without putting on make-up first, even if the house is on fire.
Corollary: A chick shall never go to sleep without putting on make-up first.
Corollary: If a chick is on a date, she shall find some excuse to use the restroom atleast three times in order to check the make-up.
12)A Chick must always help her fellow Chicks stay away from known or rumored creepers.
13)A Chick should be able, at any time, to recite the following: Winner of American Idol,Top Model and Project Runway; who the the new hottest couple is; who the top celebrity couples are; what the latest celebrity scandals are.
14)A Chick shall not sleep with another Chick’s brother (unless genuinely deemed okay with the Chick who has the brother).
However, a Chick shall not let it bother her in any way if another Chick says, “OMG you’re brother is, like, so hott!” And should a Chick’s brother be interested in the Chick’s friend, it is not acceptable for them to get together unless genuinely deemed okay by the Chick with the brother.
15)There is no law that prohibits a straight man from being a Side-Chick or “one of the girls”.
He can make a wonderful wingman or, if all else fails, a backup boyfriend/hubby.
16)A Chick shall not sleep with another Chick’s ex, unless the Chick whose ex it is does.
17)A Chick never removes her clothing in public, unless at a pool, beach, or (sometimes) a concert.
18)A Chick must get married before she’s forty.
19)A Chick never rents,downloads or buys porn.
20)Even in a fight to the death, a Chick never assaults, or attempts to assault, another Chick’s breasts, bum, or “No-No Square”. Scratching (this includes eye-gauging) is also not acceptable, on account of the usually long and sometimes sharp nails of your gender.
Hair pulling, unfortunately, is both acceptable and encouraged.
21)When a Chick exchanges numbers with a guy, she is allowed to contact him twice before she must honor the weird “wait three days” thing guys do.
22)A Chick is always allowed to cry (and if she can cry on cue, all the better).

Corollary-Not so good looking chicks MUST learn to cry.

Cry on cue.

23)A Chick loves her country, especially if it’s Tanzania or France.
-If it’s Libya,Germany or Russia…A Chick hates it.
24)Upon greeting another Chick, a Chick may engage in a hug, cheek kiss(es), high five, hand shake, fist bump, Bro hug, jumping up and down, booty bump, or light ass smack, but never a kiss on the lips nor grope/caress in any way.
Exception: lesbians.
25)A Chick always, when the opportunity arises, participates in a drinking game or risky party game (i.e. Truth or Dare, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Would You Rather, Spin the Bottle, etc).
26)When asked, “Do you need some help?” by a super hot guy, a Chick always replies yes, whether or not she’s really got it.
27)A Chick always shaves, or waxes, her legs, armpits, eyebrows if they need to be, and “down there” (if the need be, then other places may be shaved/waxed as well).
Exception: butch lesbians, girls too uncomfortable or sensitive, or girls who are making a statement by not doing it.
28)A Chick must NEVER EVER EVER get her vagina pierced.

Groups magnify beauty.

29)Chicks are strongest and hottest in three’s and four’s. Can’t explain it, but so true.
30)Chick’s don’t do nicknames. They do shortened versions of their names, their middle names, or variations of their names. But Chicks. Do…Not…Do…Nicknames.
31)A chick shall NEVER EVER attempt to major in gynaecology….EVER.That’s a man’s job.
Corollary -A chick shall NEVER hit on her gynaecologist.

Ladies,I checked out the code for you but I have to say…It’s soooo long.For that reason,You’ll have to wait for more codes in a second post.
Ciao,
The Editor.

The Bro-Code.

It began as a survival mechanism for men in high risk zones and fields.Men in war zones and gang plagued residential places had to watch out for each other to ensure their survival and flourish.Now,I’m not sure what it is but I’ll go with it.
In this age and era,the bro code is useful for Bros all over the world to help each other pick up women and basically be better friends.The term,bro code seems to have originated from the hit series “How I Met Your Mother” and has recurrently been used by character Barney Stinson since the premier in 2005.In October 2008,he published the book “The Bro Code” along with Matt Kuhn.Along with this they also published “The Playbook” and “Bro On The Go”.So,who exactly is a bro?Well,in accordance to the bro code,a bro is a person who will bend over backwards to help you bend someone else over backwards.In short, a Bro is a lifelong companion you can trust will always be there for you, unless he’s got something else going on.
NOTE:You do not have to be a man to be a bro,girls can be bro’s too although this requires a certain level of betrayal to their own chick-code.When a women sets a guy up with her hot friend, she’s acting as a bro and if she sets him up with other hot friends after he slept with the first one and never called her again, then she’s officially his Bro.
Not adhering to the bro-code will have serious repercussions.A good example of broicide in early history resides in the story of Cain & Abel where supposedly,Cain killed Abel leaving himself without a wing man to pick up chicks.He therefore killed himself.

RULES & REGULATIONS IN THE BRO CODE.
1)Bros before hoes -Men are stronger than women and therefore,the bond between bros is stronger.This is simple science.
2)Whether he cares about sports or not, a bro cares about sports.
3)A Bro never divulges the existence of the bro oath (BROATH) between bros to a woman.It is a sacred oath.
4)Even in a fight to the death a Bro never punches another Bro in the groin.
5)A Bro doesn’t let another Bro get a tattoo,particularly a tattoo of a girl’s name.
6)A Bro NEVER cries.
Exception -When a sports legend retires.
7)A Bro never wears pink.
8)A Bro never publicly reveals how many chicks he’s banged.
Corollary –A bro also never reveals how many chicks another Bro has banged.
9)A Bro is always entitled to do something stupid as long as the rest of his bros are all doing it.
10)A Bro never sends any kind of card to another bro whether it’s a birthday card or a success card.There are no sentiments between two bros.
Exception:Death of someone close,in which case a consolation card is allowed.But NEVER flowers.
11)A Bro NEVER admits to having a small penis or erectile dysfunction to his bros whether it was an accident or not.
12)Bros do not share dessert,popcorn or a plate.
13)A Bro shall not sleep with another bro’s sister.However, a bro shall not get angry if another bro says “Dude, your sister’s hot!!”.
Corollary -It is probably better for everyone if bros just hide pictures of their sisters when other bros are coming over.When in doubt bro-proof your home.
14)A Bro respects his Bros in the military because they’ve selflessly chosen to defend the nation.
15)When flipping through TV channels with his Bros,a Bro is not allowed to skip past a program featuring boobs.
EXCEPTION: Breast cancer ad’s.
16)Should a Bro become stricken with engagement,his Bros shall stage an intervention and attempt to heal him. This is more commonly known as “a bachelor party.”
17)When a Bro gets a chick’s number, he waits at least 96 hours before calling her.
The reason is Bro-flation. An unreasonable increase in female expectations about how bros should act. You call a woman the next day, she tells her friends that you called the next day, and soon enough, women everywhere will expect guys to call them the next day. Before you know it, bros the world over will find themselves trapped in relationships and all because you couldn’t wait 96 little hours.
18)A Bro loves his country.
19)A Bro is not required to remember another Bros birthday.
20)Even in an emergency,a Bro NEVER borrows from or lends clothes to another Bro.
21)A Bro never reveals the score of a sporting event to another Bro unless that Bro has thrice confirmed he wants to hear it.
22)A Bro must always post bail for another Bro, unless it’s out of state/county or like,crazy expensive
{Crazy expensive bail >= (years you’ve been bros) x Ksh9000}
22)A Bro shall honor their father and mother,for they were once Bro and chick.However,a Bro never thinks of them in that capacity.
23)In the event that two Bros lock on to the same target, the Bro who calls dibs first has dibs.
24)A Bro will make any and all efforts to provide his Bro with BROtection.
If he gets in a fight,you get in a fight.If he needs a condom,you provide a condom.
NOTE:A Bro will experience pangs of guilt after a fellow Bro becomes infected with a disease.Some of which,such as children,can last an entire lifetime.
25)As a courtesy to Bros the world over, a Bro never brings more than two other Bros to a party.
Three Bros are cool -Three amigos,Three musketeers,etc
Four Bros are lame –The Fantastic Four and Michael Jordan’s team mates.
26)A Bro automatically enhances another Bro’s job description when introducing him to a chick.Chicks like to stretch the truth about their age,promiscuity and sometimes,with the help of extensive make-up and structural lingerie,even their body shape.
As such,it is a fair game for Bros to exaggerate reality when asked about their Bro-fession.
27)A Bro shall never rack jack his wingman.Rack jack is to steal your wingman’s chick.it is recommended that before going out,each face the other,place his left hand on his groin,raise his right hand and recite the wingman pledge.
28)A Bro NEVER spell checks.
29)A Bro doesn’t marry before 30…At the earliest as this will deprive the other sane bro of a wingman.This is broicide.

Bro-Bible.

These are just some of the rules found in the rule book “The Bro-Code“.I’m still thinking on whether to write an article on the chick code as the bro-code bars me from educating chicks on their history and responsibilities to other chicks.A raise in the number of chicks who subscribe and/or comment on this blog post or any other post MAY convince me to write your code.

Happy hunting fellows,
The Editor.

Wanna Change?…Doubtful!

By now,you probably know my perspective to life and people.I believe we are not dynamic beings…At least not in character.The most difficult thing to do to a man is inspire a change in character.People never change.I use the word never because a counter event is seldom.It’s why addicts remain addicts even when drugs destroy their lives.It’s why politicians say one thing and do the complete opposite.It’s why we give second chances even when we know deep down that we shouldn’t.I must say that my radical and realistic views have in the past and today continue to coat my social life.I know that if I am real about it all the time,no one can stand me.Which is why I prefer not to study some people.Turn a blind eye and ignore lest I…well,lets just say arouse anger.
Have you ever been in a debate?I’m talking of a genuine debate not an occasional or routine argument.An event where opposing teams go into intellectual battle both with pre-determined views on the subject.If you have,then you know how difficult it is to change one’s mind.No one ever gets convinced to change their options.And if they are,no one ever shifts their focus.Personally,I’ve been in so many debates that I came to the conclusion that they never really mattered.You see folks,that’s how character is…The thing about character is that it’s not only built on a foundation.It’s a brick by brick phenomenon.The everyday events determine what type of man you become.Habits,environment,social influence….Everything.I know this by fact.Mainly from personal experience.Character is like an in-erasable imprint.It’s always there.It can seldom be lost unlike a reputation which is always in a precarious position.Character defines you,it’s bigger than religion,beliefs or anything of the sort.Which is why people don’t change.Because you cannot simply flip a switch and backtrack an entire collection of lifetime events and learning.A thief remains a thief if that’s what he really is.Prison seldom leads to his redemption.
I’ve been told by people close enough to me that I’m a broken man.That my so called views and perspectives are simply a justification to my fear of commitment and moderation.I can’t really react to the accusation but I know that my experiences and observations are accurate.A cousin of mine and confidant once retorted to a question of how I could get more readers and views for my blog with a simple answer…SEX.So against all gut,I’ll give it a shot.
Seriously,I just hit a dead end.I have no vindication or inspiration whatsoever on the subject.I’m dumbfounded,so I’ll go into the next related subject…RELATIONSHIPS.Why do we crave them?Why do we have them?Among men,anyone who’s ever had a boy-girl relationship will tell you that before you get into it,in your mind you run the entire plot.The beginning,body and end.You picture yourself making the first move,first kiss,dates…Hell,you even calculate how much money you’ll spend on her.You picture,crazy sex,orgasms and an emotional prison…In the end however,you picture…well,the end.You breaking up with her.In the end,ladies and gentlemen,you always see the end of it.So why do we approach ladies anyway?Why even bother?When it comes to boys and men,the answer,is simple…Sex.Ladies,I have no idea what makes you do it.Maybe you can let me know in the comment section.Although I should say,I think you do it for the same reason as men.No offense.
Knowing all this…Why do you still think there’s more?It’s clearly hopeless.
Ciao
The Editor.

Arrow To The Knee!

I’ve never understood relationships.I’ll rephrase that…I’ve never understood women.Don’t get me wrong,I’m hardly one of those chauvinistic masculine figures that go about life with a hint of superiority complex and an engorged ego.No sir!I’m simply a keen observer of life.
I’m hardly the person to listen to seeing the longest relationship I’ve had lasted half an annum.And believe me,I tried.Anyway,I believe that at my age,love is a mirage.It’s non-existent.What we have are a hormonal concoction that so happens to explode into a huge crash…Literally.Some may disagree but take note that our selection of a suitable mate is simple,it’s shallow.Personally,I used to ask myself one question.”Is she hot?”There is hardly any reference into character,potential or influence.The selection process is influenced by little things we normally take for granted.Music,film,magazine stories…Even the blogs you read.In this age,hip is right.It’s no wonder women are smitten by romantic gestures,soap operas and all things Spanish…Ladies,for the last time,Christiano Ronaldo is not Spanish.He just sort of live there.
Each one of us at one point had that needy feeling to be heard and loved.At one point,we were all pathetic and reasoned like we all need someone.It’s bullshit.If there’s one thing I’ve learnt is that everyone wants their space.We despise stress and the only reason people fall into relationships is to show off to friends or maturity…A need for procreation and to pass on the legacy.Oh,and sex too.Don’t get me wrong…I’m sure,some of you guys are stupid in love and can’t live without each other…That kind of crap(C’mon guys,you don’t really believe that do you?) but I have to tell you,it all fades.Sooner or later,you’ll look into the eyes of whoever that is and want to puke.You’ll despise and hate each other to the point of chocking.That…is a fact.So,why even try.You already know where it’s all headed.
In this age,most people have already realized this fact and are becoming more and more reasonable and independent.Thus the rise of F.W.B or the N.S.A concepts.I’m not sure whether it’s right or wrong but I’m sure the elderly will completely disregard this development.Sometimes even I am disgusted by this concepts.I guess I believe that it doesn’t really work.
Who knows,maybe someday I’ll look back into this post and say…”I used to be a colossal jack ass,but then I took an arrow to the ..ee”.
Lol.
The Editor.

The Boob Chronicles #9009

One thing I can tell you for certain interests all men.Somewhere deep inside,we all wish we had our own boobs.You know,engorged…like in a good way.Although,now that I’m writing this for the entire world to read,I feel kind of weird.Like it’s sort of creepy…Anyway,the first thing a man notices on a woman when he sees her are those.I’m telling you,the only thing that could beat this magnificent creation is if beer came out of them.
Now ladies,before you get all…”He’s such a douche,such a shallow man.”I want you to know this.I’m not the inventor of this fact.In fact,the last time I had a boob in my mouth was like 17yrs ago.Yeah,I’m not the enemy here.Just the messanger.If anything,you should complain to God,although that would probably not go well.Second,pageants having anything to do with beauty have gone a long way to expose this side of women.The funny part is,it’s mostly women and uncaring gay men that are the bosses of this industry.Seriuosly,it has been said before and I will say it again.Women are their own worst enemies.You design your dresses,you make yourselves extremely delicious.Not me,so don’t blame me ok?Just business.<#This is a non-profit blog so…>Fan fact:Margaret Thatcher was Britain’s prime minister for 12years,not once did she have a female minister in cabinet.Point taken?And why aren’t there any female gynaecologists?I’ve always found that to be sort of…
Lol,
The Editor.

Tired Of Morning Wood? Sorry,Can’t help.

A man called Issac Asimov once said,”writing to me is simply thinking through my fingers”.His wife later said that was an expression for jerking off.So,tonight I’m going to talk about morning wood.
A little while ago this girl I knew was resting on my lap.All of a sudden she wakes up,takes a gander at my face and silently and irritably walks away.I did nothing,but deep inside I cussed at her lack of manners.Upon straightening my pants I realised that I had an erection…Go on,laugh yourself out.But do take note that no thoughts,sexual or otherwise had crossed my mind.In fact,I was reading a magazine,O.K a newspaper but still,I can bear witness,that thing has a mind of its own.
Often,ladies and sometimes women seem to keep on yip yapping about the pains of being a woman.They complain on every single thing they can.Child birth,menstruation,boob jobs and lets not forget your erectile dysfunction or as they call it,penile lethargy.I’m hear to tell you unknowing creatures to just for once,shut it up.Did you know that erections can be painful?So painful in fact that they made a name for it…blue balls?And God forbid you broke or hit your balls.
2009,I’d just completed high school and was in extremely high moods.So on my way from Western Kenya where I was studying,me and my friends decided to eat some ‘nyama choma‘ in Nakuru.It was heaven,half a kilo of roast beef,‘kachumbari’,'ugali ‘and lets not forget the red pepper.After the heavenly meal I washed my hands and stepped into the bar for an ice-cold beer under the cruel Rift valley sun.Ten minutes later,a friend of mine…Noah comes running around the hotel clutching his balls trying as hard as he can not to scream.Can you believe the guy had red pepper on his hands and he went to pee without washing his hand? Sucker.Anyway,he bought us about 30 minutes of beer pooping while he washed himself up in the ladies toilets coz you know,there’s never water in the gents section.
That ladies is the pain of being a man.A small muscle that almost always determines the course of your life.There’s reports of men who have died after having an erection.Especially older men.Yeah,that thing can give you a heart attack.Look it up.Unlike you,ladies,erections don’t go away when you hit 45.Maybe 75 and even then,there’s the temptation of Viagra.You always quote that a man thinks with his penis,I agree.See,for a man older than 15 yrs almost 80% of what a he does in regard to a woman is in the agenda and hopes of getting laid.Of course the 20% is in reference to family,unattractive females and SOME older women.I’m not being stereotypic,it’s a fact.Some sickos don’t even mind family.You may call it stratagem,the cunning involved in getting laid.
Fact,all men wake up with an erection in the morning.It doesn’t matter who you are,it just must happen.Of course it goes away after a few minutes and the time varies.But it always happens.Last night I dreamt of being a murder victim.I’d just watched the new thriller ‘final destination’ only this time,I was the guy being sought.Funny thing is,I woke up with an erection.I mean come on night angels.Couldn’t you at least make the angel of death a woman for me?Just that once?It gets up for even the weirdest of reasons.Believe me.There’s things that have happened that I would never write on this post.So next time,please do not wear that mini or them tights you call condoms.Your only making matters and lives worse.Because God knows,no matter how ugly you are,you’ll still appeal in a mini.

Ciao,
Dr Love.

Solitary Writers!

They say the best writers get inspiration from their own lives.But why exactly is it that not every writer who does that achieves success?Well,I guess you can say that the above statement is only true when the subject in question’s feelings run deep.Deeper than most at least.A person who’s life is fucked up beyond the realms of plausibility.A story that will leave the reader begging for more.See,many people have that normal life.A wonderful family,great friends and nothing extraordinary ever really happens.Such people long for excitement,a change in theme.Target this group of people and with an exceptional marketing strategy,you have a best selling book.
Which brings me to my next point.Ask anyone what a writer looks like and long,unkempt hair comes to mind.Not to mention the excessive drinking problems and large archaic glasses.That my friends is the public image the best writers have managed to portray for the rest of us.To many,writers are dull beings consumed by their own unseen apparitions it is a wonder they can complete a book at all.Perhaps they take years to complete a single book.That’s probably a month for each chapter! Don’t get me wrong,I’m not judging.God knows my life is flawed…really flawed.
They say writers are the loneliest of people.Unmoved by the need for procreation and the fundamentals of biology.They say we are the closest things to robots.Bored,stagnant little beings whose only segregation from eunuchs is onanism.I say that’s some shitload.I mean,I consider myself a writer and as bored as I can be sometimes,I figure I’m an exciting person.So full of adrenaline and love for experimentation that I’m falling in love with myself.How about that?Ever heard of the proverbial greek mythology that tells tales of a man who fell in love with his own reflection?His name…Narkissos,that’s where the word narcissism comes from.
On occassion,I write a piece and in the process conceive something even I did not expect.I can’t explain it nor the feeling that in the aftermath numbs my body as I slowly proof-read my work.It’s mind blowing.A feeling of ecstasy that outmanoeuvres any drug I have been exposed to,even sex.It brings me great pride and when recognized,well lets just say it’s even better.It was one such day that a friend asked me where it was that I drew my inspiration.To be honest,I’d never really thought that through.Not one single time and I didn’t answer the question at all.Yet I continued to write.Well,at least until recently when in bed unable to sleep I discovered that such a question cuts deep to the very soul.You have to revisit your life from every angle,see what it is exactly that drives your actions.
Before I joined college,my mother did what no other parents do.She asked me to get a social life.Kept on rambling about how much of a lone wolf I’ve become.She doesn’t even know me any more.I didn’t say anything.I never do in such situations.After keen thought,I decided my reasons are not personal.See,the thing with people is they always let you down in the end.It always is just a question of when.Always.That’s the reason love makes absolutely no sense.It’s the reason monogamy in this post-modern society is failing.We are an evolving species,I’m not talking about Darwin’s theory.I’m talking about the ever changing human temperament.We as humans as I’ve said in previous times,are the most selfish of beings.Our kind seeks only to satisfy itself.It sucks but it’s the truth.Take a look at global warming;we don’t care for polar bears,depreciation of forest cover.Not to mention the rise of wars for profits.Do NOT pretend to be in disagreement.Saying otherwise is only a distinction of naïvety.
Besides,I write better conceptual articles in the depths of solitude.There’s nothing like solitude and I guarantee you agree with me.Why else do you prefer the library when you wish to read?The best in Kenya,Ngugi wa Thiong’o wrote his best pieces in exile.Just as so,solitude indeed is a pointer to the conception of the best articles.And I want that article.I want an article so good,it will make Shakespearean articles fade into the archaic white pages.

Auf Wiedersehen;
The Editor.

#Nostalgia (Part II).

We all know how much teenagers hate authority.It’s at that age when you think everyone else is wrong and no matter how experienced someone is,you just don’t want to listen.I wasn’t any different.At eleven,I was so tired of being told what to do I more than once contemplated running away from home.Then a friend of mine whispered the greatest idea into my ears:Or so I thought.
You guys remember Miano?The guy whose mother boiled his tadpoles when he started getting into her nerves.Well,lets just say he was gettin a lot of yard time.Going out at night,watching scary movies and telling them to us and above all taboo,he thought girls were awesome company.Now some of you guys might be going..”So,what’s the big deal?”.Well,Miano was one of those kids whose parents locked up in the house all afternoon to sleep.When we were busy playing ‘stuck in the mud’,'police & robbers’,'hide & seek’ ,fishing or blowing used condoms thinking they were balloons,this kid watched everything unfold through the windows of their 4th floor apartment.That isn’t even the worst part.He wasn’t even allowed to look through the windows.In other words,his life sucked balls.
Now,he was busy hanging out with girls,getting boners and telling tales of the most recent blood filled ninja movies.It made us look bad.So we set out to find out why he was so cool and the word boarding school came out.I had to shift schools.
At the time,I was at Olympic primary school.A good school at the time.Produced some of the best results in K.C.P.E.The only problem was,I didn’t give a rat’s ass about K.C.P.E.My life revolved around video games,fighting bullies from hidden spots,fishing tadpoles then getting sick,avoiding showers and cartoons.Nothing else mattered.When I told my moms the boarding school idea,she laughed then went on with life like nothing happened.She loved me,I knew that.Just to show you guys how much I will,with the risk of being made fun of,tell you that I slept in the same bed as my mother until I finished primary school.Which meant I needed a miracle to make boarding school happen.I remember praying every night and asking God if He really loved me.I rebuked the devil for interfering with my dreams and asked my mother’s guardian angel to change her mind.
Finally,my miracle happened.It just happened that my mom got a job far away from home and due to trust issues,moved me to St. Peters Mumias Boys.An all male school for demon possessed children disguised by an Angelic motto and ironically,awesome results.My sister couldn’t stand being away from home so she was moved into an aunt’s place for a while.
Day one,I’m moved into a dorm called Nyayo.My mom looks around the huge room,smile in face.Obviously impressed at just how clean the place was.A dorm matron comes close and introduces herself as the one that will be doing the entire dorms’ laundry.She and my mom talk for a while and I watch my mom hand her a lumpsome of money(About Sh 1000).I figured she was buying favors.Later ,I found out that was actually my money being given away for safe keeping.Funny thing is ,I never received a dime.After setting me up,she gives me a kiss which I tried to resist and sets off.The rest of the day didn’t bring much,save for the numerous older kids trying to get some ‘chapos’ out of us.Truth be told,I did the stupidest thing anyone can do,I gave all of mine away.Twenty chapatis all gone.Some chicken too..!
I’m awoken by a barking dog at the foot of my bed.An old,grumpy old guy is busy shouting at us like we can’t hear nothing.He reaches my bed and pulls my blanket,leaves me in the cold.No pants.I curse his mother under my breath and dress up in a short,no underwear.Just as I try and put on a shirt,he’s all over my face,whip in hand and dog leash in the other.I didn’t even try and wear the whole thing.I left it there and left.Outside,I find the entire fraternity queing in an orderly fashion.A kid nearby informs me that we’re getting ready for manual labour.”What?At 5 in the morning.Fuck this.”And that friends,is the story of how I popped my cherry on cussing.Basically,that’s how every morning went by.Except with age,I got smarter and got to avoid lots of manual work.
Being a skinny guy in a boarding school is not a good thing.Well,at least it wasn’t then.Lots of folks tried to mess with me.And I mean,lots.By the second week,I had a nickname…‘mosquito’. Yeah,that’s how skinny I was.This kid Jonah Ombofu gave me the name.I remember the guy like it was yesterday.You always do when some dude messes up your life.He had a huge head and ironically,was skinnier than I was.People called him ‘pawpaw‘ because of the head.Anyway,he gave me the name and because he was a friend I didn’t break his neck.Next thing you know,some kid called Evander calls me mosquito.I broke his nose and gave him a black eye. Note:This kid was as black as fuck and I gave his ass a black eye.That moved me up the ladder.Some guys even started calling me ‘the bulldozer‘. Two weeks later,Evander came by for a rematch.Needless to say I fucked him up real bad,people stated calling him ‘punching bag‘.Soon,I was just another spoilt kid with a knack for civil disobedience.My innocence was gone.
Angatia,the guy who woke us up (or Ngeti) as we called him hated me so much he shook with anger whenever he spoke to me.Basically,I found it in my heart to do the exact opposite of what he said.Not to mention I always skived the 5Am manual work.So,when on this day I forgot to wake up earlier and move into another dorm when he came in,he was as happy as a heroin addict in Afghanistan.He caught me by the collar and didn’t let go until he had awarded everyone their duties.Finally,it was just me and some other losers left.With all the authority I thought he could master and of course what I thought was a smile on his face,he shouted the one word I feared more than God at that time,“Nguruweee!”.
That sucked.See,work was divided amongst us pupils.Some washed the toilets,class rooms,dorms,lawns and the least fortunate washed the pigs.Yeah,pigs.All boarding schools have pigs,they save on cash.Their food is waste from the left overs and they provide meat.Of course the cooks in my school sucked at cooking pork.They sucked so much God knew they sucked.I mean,they sucked at sucking.Some said it was because we were in a catholic school but that doesn’t explain why pork had soup in it now does it?
Anyway,Ngeti had sent us to wash the pigs and that meant I had to shower no matter how much I hated showering.It also meant a change in clothes and well,lets just say the matron didn’t do shit for us.So I did,the rational thing.I nodded and left.As soon as I thought he was gone,I made a run for it.About fifty yards in,Angatia turns up from nowhere,belt in hand and saliva dripping off the side of his mouth.Disappointed,I turn and move towards the sty.
The fat,ugly creatures seemed to enjoy as we rubbed their bodies with hard brush,quickly moving it up and down as we covered our noses with the other hand.The mature ones didn’t cause much trouble during the exercise.Except they dipped themselves into their food as soon as we were done.The young ones made so much noise we weren’t sure whether it was grunting or screaming.Some fat males were busy trying to mate.It was so disgusting,I still have nightmares.This kid Gerald (Or mdomo baggy),seemed to enjoy himself.He kept pointing at some mating piglets,all the while laughing.I hear he became some weird womanizer.Anyway,it took us two hours and by the time we were done,none of us had time to shower despite the weird fact that we really needed a shower.
<Next On #Nostalgia>
{What happened to Ngeti.}

Ciao;
The Editor.

Words for Poetry.

Ever since I watched def jam poets season one thanks to my friend Nelly,I’ve been hooked.I mean,I loved poetry before then;I even posted a couple a few months ago.This just boosted my love for poetry and the idea that people actually gather in a hallroom and listen to artistes recite their work?Well,it’s soothing.Something about poetry,no matter who recites what,there’s always someone else thinking the exact same thing elsewhere.It comes to exhibit the interconnection in the human mind.A true revelation to exactly how in-sync our brains are.How we are the same not just in anatomy but also mentally.Together,we are one.Now,I know some think poetry is just a way for people to make themselves feel better,especially when they are oppressed and can’t really change much seeing the fact that they usually do not officiate the politics in life.Well,that may be true but bear in mind that words are the most powerful tools that separate the fools from the reasonable,pragmatic cream of society.Bear in mind that it is words that bring the light,it is words that will set you free,it is words that bring revolutions,change,hope in times of despair.It is words that make us who we are.How and what we speak define us as a people.Be careful with the tongue for it has made great men fall from grace and nobody’s into great forces.It is how we remember Martin Luther King jr,Malcolm X…Simply words.
I found something I’d like to share…I did make some modifications especially where this guy spoke so fast.
Be inspired.

I am the the light and defiable soul that can’t find his way home,
That was afraid of the dark and scared to be alone,
I couldn’t enounciate my odds,
I swang on monkey bars,
I daydreamed of stars and owning property on mars.

I am a member of that group that created his own slang,
Some say I do my thing but I be doing my thanks,
Some call me top notch coz I drink cold scotch,
And I just discovered manhood by holding my crotch.

I’m the first one to start a rumor that her fetus had a tumor,
I’m that number one consumer to wear addidas and suede pumas,
Check my sneekers yo!

I’m the one that stood in corners drinking,
Teasing teens coz they are virgins but since birth I’ve been celibate,
And as I drank my forty I lean to the side to look sporty,
And everybody I knew was named yo-shorty…yo-shorty.

Who am I?
I created highs out of women to create egos off of limbs,
Still have time to bust a rhyme and sing christian hymns.
I gave Colombus a tour for he didn’t have a clue,
I taught the art of war to a man named Sun Tzu.
The Romans tried to capture me and I saw them bear arms,
Then I purplexed them permanently by pushing pyramids out my palms.
And here’s something for the funnies,
I wrapped pharaohe’s into bandages and had them crying for their mummies.

Upon my arrival they called me a disciple,
I drank from King James’ cup and spat words from the Bible.
Since creation I calculate equations for fun,
All persuasions said how amazing is that raisin in the sun.

So if they ask me who I am?
You must believe in fiction,
To imagine what can’t be fathom has to be your addiction,
They pin me from arm to arm and plan my crucifixion,
But I am the bearer of eternal life,
They can cause me no affliction.

Travelling through time and space with grace beyond man’s jurisdiction,
With the letters L-I-O-N on my throat as an inscription,
So if anyone…ANYONE comes through that door and asks for my description,
Tell them I’m a dark skin black king that walks like an Egyptian.
-Written By Kayo

Ciao,
The Editor.

Critics.

We live in a world of jealousy and scheming.A world where people thrive in the fall of others.One infested heavily by wolves as it is invested in destruction.Don’t get me wrong,I’m hardly in praise of this apparently widespread phenomenon.In fact,I despise it.Despise it to the very core which I rarely decide to think of.I refer to handle the crust of this dark side of humanity.Far from the corrupt nature caged,waiting.Waiting for a reason to reawaken.

Allow me.Why do I speak of such matters you may ask?Why do I seek to destroy your perfect little day?Make you look like a punk?Simple,I don’t.In fact,I couldn’t care less.I simply am trying to make a point that human beings are the most untrustworty,pretentious beings in the world as we know it.Perhaps if we one day discover a more scheming species we can be ousted from this horrible position.But until then,I’m afraid that was all she wrote.

Please,try to see this from my point of view.Everything people in position do is always under a microscope.Every view they have,every sentence they utter,every action.Critics are everywhere.Perhaps the one most ridiculous career but hey,they shine and succeed.The ‘best’ critics believe me have to have the simplest jobs.They thrive in the negativity they radiate.All the while not doing anything themselves save for criticise those who have probably worked their heads off,and get paid for their opinion.Don’t get me wrong:I’m not including politicians in this written cry for help.Weird group,those people.

Then there’s you.The public.Tell me,how interested are you in the lives of celebrities?Your favourite footballer,singer,actor,guitarist,poet,race car driver,news anchor…Esther Arunga?The list is always endless.I guarantee you even know their kids by name,age and probably whether they remain chaste or not.Yeah,it’s creepy.

To the average eye,that may seem like a good thing standing in the celeb’s shoes.All that attention.Well,I’m not going to lie.I really wouldn’t know.But what is greatly disturbing is the wildfire of information that goes around once these people make a mistake or do something stupid.For example,the public crawls over the divorces,deaths,financial difficulties and all those things that do not concern them one bit.And they’re not just interested in the information.It gives people some sort of weird satisfaction when these people fall.I think it gives people hope to see the people they idolise fall.A reminder that they are human,that they have problems too.What I don’t understand is why you need to be reminded that these people bleed red just like you do.I really don’t get it;why you have to invest time learning things that do not matter.Just learn some Swazi,French or Hausa.Get a life people.I know for a fact that no fan cries when these people die.No one skips a meal or work or ceases to wash their laundry.In other words,life goes on.Just tell me what you think of the fall of Gadaffi;of Mubarak and M.J…Me?Nothing.

And that,readers is exactly why I don’t care what anyone thinks.

Ciao,

The Editor.