Bloggers blogger bloggers ( insert thinking man pose ) greetings to you all !!
I think at this point my guise of having bloggers block is quite evident that I suffer from no such condition …but rather sheer laziness ( and I hang not my head in shame ) them gay people quip “they’re out and proud” and I quip along with them… rainbow colours..freaking unicorn and all… I am a lazy blogger and damn proud of it !
Well people..today is my birthday ! so if anyone has a drink in hand at this weird hour ( looks at Udi… ) please do make a toast and EGM, you can raise your test tube as well, just dont down the pottasium sulphate – the results are deadly !! and we all know that reception in underground labs is virtually non existent that even the Verizon dude wont say “can you hear me now” coz he just knows there will be no one on the other end to tell him “dio ninakuskia!” so theres no chance of your 911 call going through.
I’ve gotten to the point where my birthday is just another day as opposed to my younger years when I’ start reminding Mother Dearest a month prior, that her only daughters birthday was coming up ( like the poor woman had a battalion of kids not to remember ) and I would tell her what I wanted ( bila shame by the way ) and even tell her what kind of cake I wanted ( again…shamelessly ) I dont know how the woman didnt turn around and just stuff one of my school socks in my mouth and then proceed to beat the shyt out of me for wearing her patience thin ( why the sock in my mouth you ask ? to stifle the blood curdling screams ofcourse )
Well, anyway, point is I no longer celebrate my birthdays, but I do thank Sir God for granting me another year. So the celebrations have now been replaced with acts of self indulgence which almost borderline hedonism ( you only live once people !!! )
So on Friday evenign I went to get my hair done and I go to the salon, this time I decided not to go to Jonet my Nigerian sisto but some other Senegalese mama my friend recommended. I call the mama a couple of days before to set up an appointment and she tells me the price and then she asks( insert semi naija accent ) ” where are you from ?” I told her Kenya..and she said ” ok, I give you ten dollars off” . I thank her and hang up the phone.
Fast forward to D-Day and I go to the mamas salon and Im soon greeted by some funkious odor that started from the stairway andall the way to her salon…only Sir God knows what the exact funk was…even Glade or Yolanda couldnt have taken care of the smell but I braced myself and walked in ( flag numero uno).I had called the mama whom we shall call Aminata, who told me to go to her shop at 4 pm. I fika there, why is she still working on Shakwandas hair ?? (flag numero deux ) my mvaite blood starts to simmer lakini I breathe in deeply and say wusaaa on the inside. She then tells me not to worry shes almost done and gives me magazines to kill time, time that I coulda been doing something else somewhere but now Im stuck in these hot salon that is full of putrid fumes and if borderline hypochondriac me had known this is what lay in store for me I would have brought my charcoal filtered gas mask ( a present from EGM ).
Its like I knew what lay ahead of me for I had carried some lemonade in my water bottle, but this was not just any other ordinary lemonade…It was spiked with some good ole Russian Vodka and when I say some, it may sound like it was a shot or two but it was more than that. Theconcotion was for calming my nerves as I get my hair yanked in all sorts of directions that a compass wouldnt even decipher – thats my story and Im sticking to it – I swear, this has nothing to do with the fact that my hands shake if I lapse several hours before taking a swig of my “lemonade” hehehehehehehe.
So now its my turn to get my hair done.Amanita grabs a comb and you know my eyes dart to the comb faster than the speed of light to make sure its not a wooden comb like the tortourous one my friend Jonet likes using. No wooden comb in sight..all is well, for now….
All was well too soon because the woman opened up her makwapas – lo and behold ! Officer Johnson this is an open shut case ! this must be the source of the putrid fumes !! Auuuuuuuu mpaka I started thinkin that Amanita must have been in the same summit as Bush & Hugo Chavez, and she must have marked her scent before Chavez fikad podium and Chavez not knowing this, spewed the following diatribe : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IoCmmm2UG0&mode=related&search=
Yani is there a pact that was passed early in the years of OAU that West Africans should not use deodorant ? coz even Jonet is pretty much like our recent de-KBW’ed member Aco’s roomate !! WTF ?? there needs to be a major campaign for those peeps to indulge in some deo..esp once they panda SabenaAirways heading to Dubyaville ! news flash Amanita and the rest, deo is not expensive !!! for crying out loud you charge me $120 for doing my hair but you will not dish out $ 3.99 for deo ?? I fail to understand…I really do.
Then to make matters worse, I look at the source of the funk, her makwapas and not only is deo foreign to the woman, so is shaving ….her masharubus, yes people, masharubus, coz them hairs stopped being armpit hair like a decade ago and now resemble a backfired curly kit thats been smothered with enough hair sheen – the sheen ofcourse being beads or should we say marbles of sweat which look like they just might defy gravity, landing suqare on my jeans. I hastily gulp my beverage greedily so as to numb myself from what Im seeing and stop focussing on her armpits.
So an hour or so passes and I can start feeling the effects of my lemonade, when I decide to look ( why why why ? ) at her armpits again and factors like the heat, pits fumes, mixed in with hints of couscous and smoked fish make me semi hallucinate and all over sudden I see a bark clothed Ituri forest pygmy staring at me dead in the eye ! WTF ?? I look away to refocus my eyes then look again..and the pygmy is still staring at me !! what the…so I i try to concentrate on the movie Amanita had put on . Then I hear ppsssssssst…..( I ignore ) more pssssssst comes from her pits…zii theres no way Im looking – but I do anyway and now the pygmy is talkin to me in some language I cant understand ! and to make matters worse..Im trying to decipher what its telling me !!
What the heck is going on ? I look around to see if anyone else is seeing and hearing the pygmy but everyone in the room seems oblivious to the situation. What to do devious ? what to do ? so I close my eyes and forcefully take a nap while my hair is being yanked all over the place and I say the Lords prayer lakini I dont get to finish it coz I soon fall asleep ( shetani ashindwe!! ) . The nap was nice except for the times when Amanita decided my head needed to be facing Northwest at a 47 degrees( no typo here….I know I said 47 and EGM please put your protactor down before you start tryin to see if such an angle exists ).
So after a while I wake up and for reasons I dont know, I look at her makwapas again and this time I dont see the pygmy…Glory be to heaven I say ! so Im trying to figure out what in the world came over me to have thought that I saw a bark clothed pygmy in someone elses armpits, and then I remembered that about an hour prior going to Amanitas, I had taken half a Vicadin coz I had a migrane…and I guess the painkiller and my “lemonade” were at war and the results were my hallucinations ! But Im tellin you, that dude in Amanitas makwapas was real ! at the time ofcourse.
My hair is finally done, I pay Amanita and with my new do, Im out of her joint and welcome the smog humid air that greets me outside. I decide to stop by some Indian joint to reward thyself with some food (remember deviouses hedonistic tendencies on the days before and on her birthday ?) and Im waiting for my food when I hear a familiar voice that makes me stop dead on my tracks ….and who does the voice belong to ? none other than (drum roll and nyatiti please ) Oduori !!!
Why why why ?? I brace myself and turn around and dude now has a metallic blue tooth on his ear, that coincidentally matches his PDA…and is yapping away in a Tyrone/Oduori accent. Then when he sees me he tells te party on the other end he’s going to call them back and approaches me (insert gnashing teeth ) I smile and say hi, but dude insists on hugging even though my body language clearly screams lets just shake hands. On and on he chatters about how busy he’s been and how things have been looking up and all ( good for you dude , now order your food and lets part ways ) so now Panjit chimes in and asks me while addressing or should I say gawking at madams matitis whether its for here to go and before I can answer its to go ….Oduori tells Panjit – “it will be for here and I will be paying for hers and mine as well” and places his order.
All over sudden the hanjams I had for my food have vamoosed and I just want to go to a land far far away where Oduori cannot find me( even pygmy land would be okay ). But alas this is not the case. The man then looks at his coveted PDA and asks me if I changed my number coz he has called me several times ( do we not get the hint Mr-look-at-my-German motokaa-PDA-toting-self?) then he looks at my contact info and he smiles and says…”aaaaah your b/day is tomorrow …I need to get you a present, what do you want ?” aaaaaaaarrrrgh “Nothing Oduo… nothing (insert real name ) you dont have to get me anything, let the meal you paid for be my birthday present” the man shakes his shiny noggin in disagreement ” no no no…you’re my lady friend ( WTF ?? who says lady friend ? ) I will take you to to the mall and you can pick something”
If this were my knight in shining armour, then I might have been up for the idea but this is not the case – I refuse to budge on the issue and he insists he will have to get something for his “lady friend” so we eat our meal whilst carryin on easy conversation, I mean, granted, we do have similar interests.After the meal, I thank him and tell dude we have to part ways as I have stuff to do – the man is relentless, hes now asking me if I have plans for the evening…I tell him yes even though I know very well I shall be at home, propped up on the couch nursing my scalp, my drug and alky induced buzz andwatchin the telly. Im so glad dude does not know where I live coz I wouldnt be suprised if he “dropped by” just because he was in the neighbourhood,
Oduori wears me down to the point where I just agree to hang out with him ( and hopefully his brother hahahahhahahaha I’m not called Devious for nothing ) sometime next week and no sooner did I say yes he flashes his PDA and pencils me in ( again, how freakin lucky I am to be in his PDA ) so now Im officially in his to do list I guess…sigh…this must be karma for all the horid thoughts I had about Amanitas BO….
So this coming week I am seeing Oduori…..
Devious pops another half Vicadin pill and signs off to get some hallucinative hopefully pygmy free sleep….
The pic posted was on my b/day when I was still a youngin..its not the clearest pic but I will update it by tomorrow and even add some more interesting pix of lil’ ndevias !