Observatory:The Anonymous Presence

The Reason I Sold My Iphone

2011-07-11T08:05:00.000-07:00

Many people have been asking me why i sold my precious Iphone,well,its because of one bad day,in a bad taxi,seated next 2 bad gals(and i dont mean bad in good way,but the real bad of evil-kinda bad)

When i entered the taxi on that fatefull day,the only seat available was the one at the back right next some giggly gals who had used white sadolin paint instead of make up-didnt know paint was cheaper than make up..but anyways thats besides the point...

Once i sat i courteously said hello...OMG u should have seen there facial expressions,they looked me up n down n just giggled some inaudible nonsense to themselves. The bu little monsters must have thought i was hitting on them..

Like as if i hit on gals,the gals hit on me...wink!

I sat there,looking out of the window and with nation building thoughts streaming through my head..when the nation building thoughts suddenly started to stream less and less.i was perplexed,what the deuce dared interrupt my trend of thought.

Then i the thoughts disappeared all together and i started hearing a slight tingle from the depth of my brain,that developed into a slight banging,then clanging and then a cacophony of a thousand devils banging at a church bells.I felt my sphincter muscles clench and felt like slitting my throat.

I looked around to see what might be the cause of all this disturbance.Lo n behold,the bu two gals were screaming into their phones.

One was calling one of her male friends for plot and asking him if he has a car to pick them up and take them out for the night?When she hang up,she complained that the ka boy didnt have a car that night and she went ahead to beep another who called back after 5min..the conversation went like this:

"Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla!"

She didnt care who heard, she must have thought that the whole cosmos rotated around her fuzzy backside.

"So that was the source of the thousand devils in my head banging at church bells...hmmmmm." I thought to myself

I thought of paying them to alight from the taxi,but that had one big flaw; it would have involved me having a conversation with them. AND THAT WASN'T going to happen.

"Tienes sin cojones",a Spanish lumpen would have screamed,but i would rather have endured that insult that talk to this lot.(Oh! By-the-way,"Tienes sin cojones" means "You have got no balls")

The "Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla!" would have been bearable hadnt it been for their phony accents.Every single syllable was turned,churned n twisted and spat out like shit from a diarrheating ass..the queen would have cursed her ancestors for having sent missionaries to teach these barbarians her language only to defile it beyond recognition.

The last straw came when one of them told her friend that she doesn't what this Facebook thing is all about ,that she doesn't know how to find her way round it..

!@#*$^???, Even my parents know how to use Facebook, what right do these have NOT to know.

So i did what I always do when i want to block out any nonsense,i plugged in my crisp clean white ear phones and turned up the volume of my iPhone.

I keep my earphones crisp clean white so that anyone who sees me approaching,be it in the dark,sand storm or under water (Oh yes,mine are water proof)can see the earphones glimmer from afar and know that this guys has "plugged-in" n doesn't wana know your crap.

As i swiped n swiped some more on my phone one of the gals tapped her friend and pointed towards my phone. But at that moment,i didnt care coz i was plugged-in n didnt wana know.

Even if Col.Otafiire had miraculously won the gold medal in figure skating at the winter Olympics,i just DIDN'T WANA KNOW.

Then something happened,that had never happened before. Something of APOCALYPTIC proportions.One of the gals tapped me, she actually had the nerve to actually tap me when i was plugged-in.

I was dazed and took some time to master the strength n courage to "unplug" my earphones and hear she had to say.

The gal pointed at my phone and asked to have a look at it. I wanted to tell her,

"Bitch this thing can pay your tuition for next sem,so paws off". but as stated earlier,i wasn't in any mood to talk to them so I handed over the gadget.

Then the gals got excited n gittery like a pedophile in a kindergarten and asked silly questions like;

"Is this the iphone"

"Wama is it a double line"?

I would have burst out laughing hadnt my energy been sapped out by there mere proximity to me..Gag!!

They took snaps of their bu clown faces using the camera n it must been screaming;

"Not enough resolution to take this picture"..

But thats why i love Steve Job,he foresaw that clowns like these might do Maalo on it so he inserted an anti-unatractiphobic chip (unatractiphobia is the fear of ugliness) so it managed to soldier on.

But the phone was never to be the same again,the scars of that battle were never to be healed

Well,i had to eventually sell my phone,it had gone thruogh too much torture and every time i looked at it,i couldnt bring myself to terms with having put it through all that torture

Long time no Ass or Grass

2011-07-04T07:46:00.000-07:00

Been a long time since i last blogged.Many of the blogs taht i used to follow also went silent,so i firgured id start with something thats been on my mind alot lately

I got all these troubles
But I dont know for how long they will last
So am Gona roll up some grass
And smoke it till i am passed out.
And all my worries shall pass.

U might think me as crass.
But maybe I could invite a lass
Who ain't as green as d grass
So that as we smoke this grass
She can shake her fine ass
That sits on her body making it look an hour-glass

.

Welcome to Atlanta remix-Mbarara style

2010-12-21T22:32:00.001-08:00

This is a rendition of "Welcome to Atlanta" by JD and Ludacris

ORIGINAL

Welcome to Atlanta where the players play

And we ride on dem thangs like ev-ery day

Big beats, hit streets, see gangsters roamin

And parties dont stop 'til eight in the mo'nin

REMIX

Welcome to Mbarara where we the rustlers rustle,

Where we ride dem cattle like everyday,

Big hips,small waists,see the honies roaming

Where dont stop milking dem cows till eight in the morning"

if that aint a BAD-ASS remix then dont know wat is.

It should be used as song by LC5 candidate for Mbarara like how Sevo came up with "U want another wrap"

Observatory:Writer's Block

2010-11-09T00:36:00.000-08:00

I have got a Writer's Block. Want to know what that is,well just read along...

Its like running to the loo coz ur bowels are about to explode. You leave your seat as things threaten to come out.You run down the corridor,to the back of the office block,up the mettalic stairs,then run the length of the entire first floor corridor to the now famous loos (I have never figured why they put the loos upstairs, so dont ask). You find all the gents occupied and cross ur legs and start to jump up n down on one leg-dont ask me how thats done.

You wait for another 10seconds and think,

"Screw it let me head to the ladies".

You run into the ladies and bump into your Human Resource manager as she is getting out. You ignore her bemused stare and dart into the first cubicle thats open so that you can do do ur THANG.

Then as you have placed your heavy laden bricks on the seat u anticipate something epic to go down -World War kinda epic; with Allied soldiers jumping from trench to trench while shooting at the bloody Nazis. Or,for the jungle folks like yourselves, u can liken it to a legion of red ass male baboons during the mating season swinging from tree to tree while chasing n fighting for the only female within a 100km radius. Forget the image of the baboons - i know its caught your attention,but please get it outa ur heads.

The point here was I going to the toilet and expecting something epic but nara "shit going down"-literally.

You gather all the air from your lungs and summon all demons within your intestines for a HUMONGOUS push....

.........And all you get is a 5second passing of wind...

Sorry that wasnt the point either.The point here was that I "The Anonymous Observer" have alot of things to write about, but all that am passing out is,well as you read, alot of wind.

If you never knew wat a writer's block is,now u know..and yes your all welcome. I think i need to go toilet and it might take a while..so laters

Anonymous Release

2010-10-15T03:49:00.000-07:00

Having searched for her hundreds and thousands of times in the chaos,

suddenly, I turned by chance, to where the lights were waning, and there she stood

Too timid to come to me.

So i walked to her and gently touched her.

I gently caressed her curves and gently nibbled at some.

Then like a man possessed i carried her to my room and locked the door.

Once closed, I immediately placed my mouth on her

And as i did,I hurriedly took off my shirt.

the heat was on.

My skin became moist as my blood flowed.

Muscles contracted,

Eyes dilated,

Fists clenched,

As I held her curves and i readied for the inevitable RELEASE....

And then I RELEASED!!

I released all my mental faculty into the Bic pen whose curves i held

And wrote on the paper that was on the table

For the feminine in you

2010-10-14T02:41:00.000-07:00

Girl had big beautiful brown eyes that Boy could have stared at for hours on end Each time that he blinked, he felt that he was missing out on something.

Girl always found it weird that he ogled at her, but hey, which girl didn’t want a bit of attention.

He loved the attention that she gave him, the motherly tenderness that she offered. He had never had this from his mother.

They loved each other’s company and did many things together.

He knew that she was one of one in a million. But deep down he had one fear and one fear only, that he might one day lose her. This made him insecure, and at times ask himself, “What’s the point if I will one day lose her; what’s the point to dig in this garden, only for someone else to bear the fruit.”

But he did his best to put a smile on her face whenever he saw her, coz her joy was his reward.

He knew that telling her that he loved her might ruin their friendship, but couldn’t bear concealing his feelings.

……………………………….

The rain fell hard and Girl heard someone call her name from the crowd of students just off the bus. She turned back and saw Boy making his way through the crowd, following her into the rain.

"Hey, listen ok. Look I know that I made the wrong choice about telling you that I...love you....but I had to know if you felt the same way?" Boy stammered. Girl stopped walking, "Look!" she turned around and faced him, "All I ask of u is that we stay friends-if that’s even still possible-given the way u have made a mess of it! I don’t want no drama. You and I can't be more than what we are." She yelled, tears came falling from her eyes. Boy made his way to Girl and tried to hold her arm,

"I just love you!...And deep down u also know that you have feelings for me. You are just afraid to love me back".

Her eyes for the first time betrayed the deep emotions that she had for him all along. Eyes filled with love imprisoned in the dark abyss of fear. She was motionless for second as she choked on what to say next.

"LET GO!" Girl pushed him, and Boy felt pain on his right cheek, she had slapped him - in public. "Respect the fact I don't like u in that way. Besides am not that special to u since u have many gals who like u." She had just betrayed herself again.Her voice was beginning to break up, she was crying real hard, but the rain muted her sobs and washed away her tears. Girl turned her back on Boy and ran away.

Boy wanted to go after her but all he could do was watch her as she went further and further away. As Girl reached the sidewalk near her house, she felt pain on her left chest, her heart was aching. She couldn't breath. She placed her hand just at the place of her heart and tried to massage her chest, "It's ok, you can do it...just a few steps and...Ughr" She took a deep breath and started walking again, slowly, but her knees felt weak, she can't move anymore and that caused her to fall on the ground. Her sister got out the house eventually and helped her to stand up.

……………………………………………………………….

Boy stood at the entrance of the door to Girl’s hospital room for a long time.He saw that there was an empty vase next to her bed and dashed to the hospital shop to try and get her flowers that to fill the vase. Sadly they had run out of flowers, but he didn’t want to go back empty handed. He bought a big card with flowers on it. He saw a perfume that was on display at the entrance and got an idea. He waited for the shop keeper to turn his back on him sprayed the card with the perfume before briskly running out.

If she cant have scented flowers, then il create them. He thought to himself.

He raced back to Girl’s room and she was still fast asleep like a baby. She looked so peaceful like the world was waiting for her to wake up – and if the world was him, then yes, it was waiting for her to wake up. He carefully placed the scented card right on top of the vase.

“Hey Boy”, Girl whispered. He was shocked and nearly knocked the vase down. “Thought u were asleep”, he replied.

“I have been awake. I saw u when u stood at the door. I figured u were staring at me as u always did” she give a sly smile that made him blush. “But when u went away, my heart sank and I thought that would never come back.” Her voice started to crack as she sniffed and tried to hold back the tears.

“Many people have come to visit me, but I kept looking beyond there shoulders in the hope of seeing u behind them.” She now started to cry and held her hand and told him amidst the sobs, “Please don’t leave me coz I love u too”

He knelt besides the bed, clasped both her hands in his; kissed them and said, “I will never leave u”

Anonymous memoirs of a man on a journey

2010-10-11T01:08:00.000-07:00

I have climbed many a hill;

Trekked through the belly of darkness itself;

Have trodden the flattest of plains and descended the steepest of slopes

But at the place where I stand now, they all take a bow

Mortal minds fathom not;

Nor can words describe;

Nor ear perceive;

Nor eye penetrate the splendor that i now see.

But I dare not break into a song, lest i linger long

For my journey is long,

And I am still far.. FAR AWAY from home.

Prisoner loving.."I wana love ya Mr. Prisoner"

2010-09-28T01:40:00.000-07:00

As a prison warden he had seen and heard many sad tales that had left his heart numb;tales of a man on death row for a murder that he didnt commit;of men being at the wrong time of a robbery and locked up just because fate dealt them a wrong hand;of mothers imprisoned and separated from their children and only seeing them grow up in pictures that they were sent.So many stories that he had made him become numb to many emotions.

However his humanity was brought back to him when he had been told that he was to escort a prisoner serving a life-sentence, who had been given a special one days pass.The prisoner had been convicted falsely of aggravated robbery.His crime was that he had stolen from his rich employer.

The crime itself had been light and he could have gone away with a much less punishment, but the rich man concocted the evidence, hustled and blackmailed the judge into giving him a more severe sentence.
The trial had stirred up so much media attention;his childhood sweet heart had seen all the hype and publicity that had gone with the trial and had written to him;had visited him in prison and even proposed to him to marry her.

The affair touched the sentiment of all who heard about it.And there was even small group of people who went to the streets to allow the marriage ceremony to take place.

The authorities eventually caved in and it was the wardens job to escort him for the wedding and make sure he didnt try anything sinister. The prisoner on his way to the church had asked the warden to be his best man as it wouldnt be proper for a wedding to take place without a best man,to which the warden hesitantly obliged.

After exchanging vows,there was a small reception in the old hall next to the church. As it came to a close,the groom whispered to his best man that there was small store room at the back of the hall that he could use to partake of his conjugal rights.The priest didnt object and the warden allowed the prisoner to enjoy his new wife..
He gave them 45 minutes and walked a couple of meters away as the sounds that came from the room made him a bit uncomfortable.The priest just gave him wicked wink..

On the way back to the prison,as the high walls drew near,the warden expected the prisoner to be depressed or to plead for extra time or even try to open the door and run.To the contrary,he sat their smiling, finishing his cigarette,because he knew despite being confined,his heart was elsewhere roaming free with the one that he loved.

At Jezebel's Crossroads

2010-09-21T23:31:00.000-07:00

As the emotions are washed away into the sea of numbness, the soul is finally freed

Freed from the four walls of conscience; freed from the shackles of morality.

Free to succumb to the succulence of my wanton thoughts,

And embrace the utterly perverse.

Defying the moral powers that be,

I follow my urges through Hades' rabbit hole

Disregard to Lucifer wanting my soul.

My brain implodes and my loins explode as I now stand, here, at Jezebel’s crossroad.

She hisses and sneers, but I fail to turn a deaf ear

For simple reason that she also smiles and flirts and to that I adhere.

She plays on my fallible mind, and sluttish thoughts are begot,

Thoughts so lewd, that they would leave a nun's stomach in a knot.

How I long for days yonder when discretion protected my soul

And she cloaked my very being, and preserved me from all things base

But, alas, her role she did abscond

Leaving me here, all alone, as…

My brain implodes and loins explode for i stand at Jezebel's crossroad

saved by the bottle (part 1)

2010-07-16T05:25:00.000-07:00

I leaned against the stump of the once mighty and sacred Muvule tree. It was a tree that my ancestors had told us never to cut lest an epic tragedy would befall the people of the land. Its stump and trunk now lay there, felled. They were now the only thing that testified that thats where my house once stood.

It had many memories;memories that now i held dear,yet they brought a heaviness to my heart that made my soul sink like lead...Dont know why, but i held onto the bottle that i had run out with from the bar..the bottle that had saved my now wretched life.

"Go drown yourself in your bottle if u think it will save you "...

Those were the last words that Alice-my wife- had screamed at me as i run into the heavy pouring rain that fateful night.

As life and fate normally do,they had sat down and conspired to amuse themselves by playing the "irony-card" on me..

But the result of this was the furthest thing that could warrant the title of amusement..

I had ran out of my hut after having another of the now re-curring quarrels with Alice.Am not a man to find pleasure in verbal confrontation,especially with Alice(coz she always won) I used it as an excuse to go the Trading centre to drink one or two.Although i must admit,most times there ended up being many more that followed the first and second.But i cared less,as long as it took my mind off the domestic mess in my head courtesy of the fore mentioned.

I had ran threw the pouring rain,with the thunder booming and the lightening flashing menacingly as if warning me of some unknown danger to come. After slipping one-time too many I decided to just wade my way through muddy rivers that now crossed the path;they were like fast moving snakes whose reflections were vivid whenever the lightening flashed.

The rain drops that fell on my forehead rapidly flowed down my face and obscured my view of the path.I constantly had to whip my face to be able to barely see where i was going.I was soaked to my bone marrow.But i was a man on a mission..a mission to drink.

The banana leaves from the plantation through which the path snaked kept weaving with a ferocious intent to fell the banana plants.Like flapping wings the leaves beat against each other making a cacophony of noise.

Strangely enough though,this didn't give me any sense of fear of what might lie in the darkness of the plantation.If anything the noise made me feel like i had company,as if it was loudly whispering its presence and announcing its companionship.

The path then started to slope down into a coffee plantation for a few meters then zig zigged into another banana plantation.

By this point i had lost the sense of my surrounding-probably numbed by the wetness from the rain and my brain being an inferno of rage due to Alice's nagging.

I just couldn't stand Alice whenever she threw a tantrum over every little thing that i didnt do, or that which i did, but didnt do well enough.She had become the proverbial nag that made a husband prefer to sleep on the roof than share a room with her kind...

As my brain huffed n puffed...I heard footsteps running behind me...

Anonymous thoughts

2010-06-18T01:23:00.000-07:00

I haven't blogged in ages,partly coz work is a draining any bit of creativity that i might have left,but also partly because i feel i have to blog when i have some epic story to share.

but figured what the heck let me just type whatever is in my head and see where if it will make a good read.

About a month ago i moved out of my parents house to my own swanky crib,which i share with a friend of mine.At first i felt like a fish out of the sea,but right now would yawn at the idea of going back to my parents'.The bachelor life is fun,with all the junk fast foods for supper and works.

I now don't have to worry about where to rendezvous with my numerous girlfriends as i have upgraded from cranky single-bed dingy lodges to my own double bed mazongoto(But those details are not to be published on this forum)

Many of the females are now asking if am willing to throw for them a "One-on-one house warming" for them.Its amazing how girls look at me different when I tell them that I have my own crib; they look at me as if I have all of a sudden developed gigantic balls - or something.I will have to buy bigger boxers that will accommodate them

Part 4

2010-04-08T23:26:00.000-07:00

She danced slowly and sensually. For some reason she always liked dancing beneath the disco ball. Guess so that it would illuminate her light smooth skin that always contrasted the dark outfits that she wore(I swear you could pour milk on her skin and it would come out white on the other side ) She liked dancing solo, throwing her hands gently in the air – in the manner of her Rwandese tradition dance. And if u were lucky enough to have her dance with you, when the time came for her to “drop it like its hot”, she would twist and turn like a leaf dropping gently from a tree; feeling her own body as she rubbed against yours. Am telling you, she made dirty dancing look angelic.

Damn! And here I was watching her pleasuring Mike on the dance floor. She very well knew how much I liked it whenever she did to me what she was now doing to Mike a few meters away from me.

At this moment I so needed a distraction, some nymph to come and bump and grind with to halt my boiling envy at the spectacle in front of me. The only nymph that I could think of at the time was Smirnoff. She was always ready to meet my twisted caprices. Well, sadly when I her to my mouth I only sucked on air. My tongue licked the inner brim to confirm no contents….

“What the…?”

I needed a joint to tranquilize my nerves. So I turned to Pierre, whom I had entrusted with my stash- BIG MISTAKE.

“Pierre, Pierre”, I called out. I turned round to behold big red eyes staring back at me…

“Gwe dude, told you to keep the weed, not to smoke all of it. Hope that you have some left for me?”

He smiled sheepishly and I knew the bugger had smoked it all.

“I just couldn’t resist man”, Pierre blurred out.

“Your brain cells are going to get fried one of these days man.”

I badly needed a testosterone rush. And when I saw the girl who had sat on my lap earlier (check Part 2) chatting with one of the UFASD girls (United Front Against Soft Drinks (check part 1)); I smelt opportunity screaming out to me,

“Come get me Baby, if you have the balls”.

“No one insults my manhood and gets away with it”, I thought to myself

So I got some mint out of my pocket and stuffed it in my mouth. Then I swung my way swaggerliscious self over to their table…

(TO BE CONTINUED)

INTERLUDE

2009-11-06T00:16:00.000-08:00

Am of the view that exes can’t be, shouldn’t and don’t have to be friends.
Its loads of elephant dung if u asked me (I know u didn’t ask me, but who frags?)

The dic defines ex as;
Adjective
1. out of fashion
Noun
2. term to define someone’s former, partner, lover...blablabla!

But in IT lingual it’s closest to the “.exe” filename extension which means EXECUTABLE.

The fore runners of IT dem days related this to ex’s, coz all ex’s can be and should be EXECUTED.Implying that, for all I care u can execute the good for nothing whoring bitch. You could take her to the guillotine and behead the sucker and I would not even flinch an inch (I just rhymed).

Actually I would gladly hold the basket into which the head is to roll. I would savour every drop of blood that would splash onto my face as a result, and I wouldnt wash it off for days. I would tell everyone who cared to listen (even if u didn’t care to listen I would force it down your thick ear drums) the reason for my blood stained face.

“This is the blood of the executable. She thought she had the last laugh, but now her blood sinks ever so quickly into the soil, right into the chambers of Jezebel’s Hades from whence gazillions of other blood sucking nymphs are bred”.

And for emphasis don’t forget to swirl up some nasty mucus-ish saliva and spitting on the ground right next to the listener’s foot. Trust me, he will get the point.

And catch this, when I do decide to wash off the filth, I will drink the water I have used. I’ll then get onto a bus to her ancestral home with my heavy laden bladder and then piss all over the ex’s white washed grave stone while shouting
“R.I.P….Rest In my Piss”

BWAHAHA! BWAHAHA! BWAHAHA! (Evil laugh)

I know, its such a sweet send off, you don’t have to tell me…

By-the-way, don’t get me twisted, I loved all my 6½ exes, thanks to them I lost my mother given innocence in dark alleys, amidst bushes and hedges, behind big scary trees, dingy store rooms and smelly toilets(am getting nostalgic), not to mention in their father’s houses-those witches. And all of them have contributed to creating this awesome, kickass son of a gun, whose blog u so love…

Anyway, am of the view that exes can only be friends if

1. The loser who was dumped gets someone way better than the ex. This makes the dumpee get over her quickly. He would be friends with the dumper just to spite her, and without words taunt her,“I was doing you a bloody favour, but all along I could do better”

2. If both get someone not as good as the ex. That way both end up losers, a stalemate of sorts, a 0-0 score line…pathetic

3. Last but not least, if the ex gets knocked by a boda boda and gets a limp amputated. There human empathy would kick in. Note; If knocked by 2009 Merc or BMW it doesn’t count, coz in most cases the driver will most probably be able to afford the bill in a fancy hospital with doctors and nurses way cooler than the dumpee, which is just down right unfair.

Apart from these reasons, ex’s should never, EVER be friends, If you as much as smile at your ex, I will come at you like the evil monkey in Chris Griffin’s closet (Family Guy) and shove something nasty up that thing your sitting on….

part 3

2009-09-18T04:04:00.000-07:00

This is highly inaccurate info coz I was under semi-influence of the drink that Russian’s are weaned on, Vodka..

As Pierre rumbled on and on about how the gal who had promised her “some” had a fine body to die for; an ample bossom,hour glass figure, hips like the moon’s curvature that would even make the Pope look twice….Blab la bla!, a lass gracefully entered the room. Actually graceful was an understatement, she literally glided into the room as if being carried by the wind. I immediately sobered up to behold this nice piece of……(fill in anything u have stood in awe of).As she neared my optical “snipping” range my mouth (which had been so widely open it could have taken in a bus) closed as I recognised who it was. To Pierre’s amusement I immediately ducked behind him so that the lady didn’t see me
.

“Dude what is the matter with you?” Pierre bewilderedly asked

“For the sake of all that’s under the sun, don’t dare move an inch” I replied..
(I will skip this part coz it was rather embarrassing as the damsel had already seen me and heading straight to where we were)

Anyway the zib was that I had had a brief thing with this chick. I had told her that am not a party/night person and a tee taller; yet here I was, semi-drank in the middle of the night. I had dumped her with the excuse with the lame excuse that her everyday nocturnal activities made me insecure, and that we were totally different people.

However, the truth was that despite her good looks she had nothing else going for her. I would have endured if she was a blonde, but she is just plain downright daft; having a conversation with her tantamount to UTTER boredom, it was a torturous affair to say the least.
But let me not take the shine away from her coz she is a sight to be behold, she is a head-turner, a show stopper, traffic jam causer and she basks in the glory.. Man she was, she is, and shall always be FINE (till she pops some equally daft kids of course).

The flip side of having her by my side was that I became more popular with the boys, who wanted to know how I hooked her. And it also led to more gals wanting me; they must have thought that I must have something special going since I had beautiful damsel by my side...DUH! (have never understood gals psyche setup).
It was a match made in heaven, if it hadn’t been for her rather “minute” flaw; I had the brains, she the looks; I had the charm, she the elegance….SIGH!! it saddens me to this day, such looks all washed down the filthy drain of mental underdevelopment.

“Hey Njagala Philip” she called out, “Why are u hiding from me?”

“Hey Chantal how are you doing?”, I replied as I waved my wallet “Was just picking up my wallet that had fallen from my pocket”

“Thought you didn’t drink or stay out late”

“You are alluding to an illusion my dear”,I responded

“Huh! what you mean? You still use your fancy words I notice”

And then she took a pause, crossed her arms,and shifted her weight to one leg to try and figure out what I had meant.(since when did people strike a pause to think?)
She gave up after 2seconds and introduced some pot bellied fellow who had followed her and was now hovering over her like a vulture.

“This is Mike,a very good friend of mine;Mike meet Piere”

She didn’t bother introducing Mike to me coz I already knew who he was
Pierre shook Mike’s hand, but I had quickly occupied my one hand with a bottle and the other with my wallet so as not to shake Mike’s hand and just nodded lazily in his direction, leaving his hand in mid air….
See I and Mike had a history which started off when….

(TO BE CONTINUED SOON)

Anonymous Observer (Sequel)

2009-06-15T07:22:00.000-07:00

I nearly got chocked by my drink when I heard his response

“No! I didn’t ask what u do, I asked how…” I stopped half way coz I figured my efforts would equal attempting to get water from a rock..
“What of you, what do u do?” JoBo asked.
“I am a social-psychologist”, I said.
“What is that”, he said.
“Its someone involved in the study and analysis of human behaviour and interaction both at the individual level and group level in different environs ….”

I paused for a moment for effect, to allow the poor fellow’s brain to take in the info, mathematically compute it and come up with an appropriate response…
But it seemed his brain jammed with the overload and he knowingly just nodded his head
“Oh! Now I get”
“No you don’t, Gorilla Unit wannabe” I thought to myself.

Sarrrrah who had been restless all this time, tagged JoBo’s jeans and told him that she hadn’t come here to stand around, but wanted to go and dance.

“Sorry man, chat with u later”. He mumbled as he was dragged like an ox to the fields.

“Break a leg”, I shouted back, raising my now third bottle up in salute.
Sad, didn’t get to thoroughly psycho-analyze the pair.

I decided to look for a high stool at the end of the bar, to give myself a better chance of escaping the lunacy around me, coz the crowd was swelling up. I made a bee line for one that had just been vacated right before a near by lady could sit on it. I beat her to the seat with only a tenth of a second to spare. It was so close that the lady didn’t notice I had already sat. So her soft cushy bottom ended up on my upper lap(it was a half second of total bliss).

She jerked up suddenly
“Ooops sorry, thought it had been vacated”, she said.
“Your powers of grammatical analysis impress me, miss.” I replied. “Hearing that u have used the past tense, as opposed to the present continuous. Which in this case would be, “I am sitting on this stool”?

“Waaaat--evaaaa!!!!!” She spat back-quite literally- with American ghetto-fabulous attitude. She emphasized it with well coordinated hand, finger, neck, head and eye movement.

“However I am gentleman enough to share my seat with you. Come and sit on my lap,I guarantee 100% comfiness. You would be the only person at the bar on a stool that has back support, leg support, arm support and any other “support you would fancy””
“You’re an effing cuss, you know that?”
“Born and bred, my dear. Born and bred” I snorted back
“Screw you”. She hissed back..
“Not here in the open public, perhaps maybe at your crib after the party”.
Miss ghetto fabulous had had enough of this self worshiping narcissist oaf, and ended our dialogue with a polite flip of the middle finger and waltz away.

It was just as well, coz the DJ had started to play my favourite contemporary music, which never fails to deliver me a height (won’t mention the genre of the music lest some of you start to think it cool to listen the same music that I do). I started to bob my head side to side feeling the bass and the beat.
As a matter of principle I don’t dance. Not even if it was meant to save my miserable soul. A great man once said,

“We gangsters we don’t dance, we boogie”
(The Dogfather, Snoop)

Well he never included us great men of the intelligentsia.

“We of the intelligentsia don’t dance, neither do we boogie, but we nod our big brains gently left to right, front to back”
(Njagala The great)
(For full effect, tilt the head slightly and have a smirk face to match the bashfulness)
Reason for this; is that we can’t afford to disturb the well organized sequence of nation building thoughts in our heads with excessive, uncoordinated and useless body movement, people call dance.
Should is say, its a form of self preservation, we endangered creatures have taken up.

As I neared brainwave ecstasy, some scruffy hands grabbed me.
“Guess what man”. Pierre shouted
“What’s with you, man? Don’t encroach on my space like that unannounced”. I grumbled back. “And no, I can’t guess whatever u want me to guess”
“She has promised me some, some”
“Who has promised whatever to whomever?”
“The girl whom I had gone to talk to”
“You mean the half drunk damsel of the UFASD that you abandoned me for, and left me with your weird pal JoBo and Sarrrrah?”
“She said I and her are on this weekend for a nookie.”
“Dude! She just said that to get you off her back. She won’t give you any some-some, not even in your wildest wet dreams”

………At this point the conversation took an adult drift which my mamma wont be proud to hear that I discussed on this forum, so…Peep! Peep! Peeeeeeeep!

In the meantime, the 7% alcoholic drink had started to kick in, and its supposed to make the story juicier. However, the flip side is that it made my memory quite hazy about what followed after.
Notwithstanding, I promise to fill you in as soon as I manage to siphon that night’s details from my brainiac black hole…for now…I go blank, and step back into the darkness from whence I came, and behold all of you simpletons as….
“THE ANONYMOUS OBSERVER”

Shalom, my dear Lovers&Haters.

Anonymous Observer (Part1)

2009-06-10T21:54:00.000-07:00

Went for a friends b.d party the other day out of the sheer lack of better things to do and the tedious need to catch up with my old friends, foes and nemesis,and also to do what i do best,observe human behavior. I tried to camouflage into the surroundings by avoiding anything that would label me a tee totaler and so picked the next best thing,Smirnof Ice.

Partial reason for this,was that among the bums present were members of the soon to-be-famous United Front Against Soft Drinks(UFASD).A group of soon to be drankards, who push a swallow as if they were weaned on the most potent alcohol. UFASD, coming to a bar near you,remember to mention that u heard about them from me 1st...

Now where was i again,the party..yes..one of the reasons i hate parties is the small talk that at times comes with it. Am no fan of small talk,actually i hate the whole affair.Its as interesting as watching two flies mate;although i know some of my friends like Jason,Denis,Kahuma and the two Paulo's find it an interesting pass time,well i dont..

At this particular party my friend Pierre introduced me to some guy,whose name aint worth remembering;but since he is pivotal in the story,let me give him a name befitting his persona,let me call him John Bosco aka JoBo,and his galfriend Sarrrrrrah - thats how JoBo pronounced it in his thick Kinyakorrrrrre accent.
After the introduction, by my "introducter" friend he excused himself to go across the room to chat up some semi-drank damsel whom he hadnt seen in a long time and said owed him "some,some"(yet to figure out what that means).

This left the "introductees" in an akwardly loud akwardness,which was only broken by JoBo's unrhythmic heavy breathing, characteristic to someone who has got mucus stuffed inside their nostrils...Eeeeuuu! and the absurd noise from Sarrrrrah's futile attempts to sing along to Kanye's Heartless..(without being too harsh and with minimal detail);she dragged the song through Hell's musical gutters,and by the time it re-emerged from her mouth,it smelt like hippo excrement

.. ANYWAY...i decided to check out JoBo's outfit consisted of a variety of material's,namely; jean pants,jean jacket all iced up with a jean baseball cap-i never knew they even existed.And by the way he walked,i bet he had jean briefs underneath. Sarrrrrah on the other hand was a delightful spectacle of pink shoes,pink top and a pink skirt that wouldnt fit my 4 year old sister.you and i dont have to guess the colour of her undergarment.
I took one quick look at the pair and knew they would make a good case study for my study on human behavior. In an effort to break the silence i initiated conversation with JoBo,"How do u do?" JoBo replied,"I do BBA at MUBS....".....

..(At this juncture i got my confirmation that I had got another specimen for my study human behaviour) ..

TO BE CONTINUED...