BYOB:the bloggers year ender bash!

January 10, 2009 at 3:27 pm | Posted in life | 12 Comments

k! a promise is a debt…and its the longest i ever wrote!

if i broke sibbie’s heart, would she land on me with simi’s?

but wait, this valentine, you said Val was your dream date,and that her cuddles, over Bailey’s and swigs of Napoleon would squeeze all the mellow joose…

… Thoughts are working overtime, running alongside me as i dash to the bash…

an invite only, it said, but my right man, high on khat like a kite, could not understand why it wasn’t in-vaite only!

Upstairs, in some decent city restaurant tucked in a semi-CBD zone the blogger’s bash was to kick off..or so read the invite.

After brushing many shoulders, i was finally there.

First, am frozen!

A house of a guy (yaani nyumba ama pandikizi, lol) gussied up in a pink muscle shirt reading :FACT: DURBAN ROCKS, fills the hall way and is demanding…

” haiya, bro, wapi kinywaji? dint yu rid instrackshons?BYOB!”

Am like, man, si i thought it was Bring Your Own Blog?…but the words choke in mouth as the Bouncer, who i later learn is Bomseh, grabs me by the scruff of the neck, ready to haul me downstairs.

I grease him with a sohk and with a mean grin, spreading like a crack across his granite face, he lets me in.

Phew, narrow brush with a broken….assegai? Gai! is my first expression when some dreadlocked guy screams up name..a little too loud for my comfort, beckoning me over to a table full of jamaaz…he gives me a suffocating bear hug and with it dies the little hope of sitting anonymously at a strategic corner and watch dudes and duddetes fond of a certain habit, secret like masturbation, called blogging.

“Haiya, wako wapi masupuu??” i whisper to Modo, affectionately cuddling up..ah, well, the all-too-familiar Kenya King (not Cane,haha) which by his composure, he musthave gulped it down in one sip…ignores or doesn’t hear mt question and rolls on with ma-intro…

Meet Archer (where is the quiver?) Hey,am Mboiz (haiya,nilidani wewe ni hardcore kichwa kibovu kama mimi) Niaje mzeiya mimi ni supreme gream (wapi supreme wife?)..i give out a big grin…at my thoughts…

the conversation drones on, on nothing in particular severally hitting a platueau, as Archer talks of Dildos..where do they sell them boy?…. Supreme Chryslers….is that wine or a car?…Mboiz on malfunctioning ATMs, sasa naona wewe ni mng’ola…and a when jovial jolly modo is all about a Young Rubi who has moved next door… am enjoying the insights…

Media bill, anyone?

… about to voice it, over my alvaro,keen on image, when the first batch of female bloggers roll in.

the testerone monotone is broken…and doesn’t these inlikely faces, behind blogs i know brighten up? very alive?

hugs, getting nervous, my image is now porous and to quell the frayed nerves and building anxiety, i order as small cold GK (?).

Over it, i spot Savvy, easy to pick out as i have encountered her before, with a little red number swaying about excited…looking for Charle De Barge… my eyes fall on a lady next to her, not in red….but with a wine glass perched on her fingers, seemingly in high spirits and my pupils are moonsized…

“vipi, niite boyo…” the convo kicks off, ” na wewe unitangwa?”

it’s sibbie.haiya, hashili sheng’… the previous thoughts of a simi wielding sibbie dissolve as the conversation picks, goes thru’ a high and low and in a moment, finds a footing.

” ahh, cold play are crap to me now, i mean, viva la vulva (sic) has just confirmed their ability to,” i voice out feigning ‘up market intelligence’, ” sound the same, year in, year our, like death and all her friends…”

she starts to talk, passionately about music but my mind is engrossed in running battles…hey, fella, dontcha think she helped God in designing that feminiscape?

I need a drink! A lie, an excuse and i snake my way between several bodies intent on rushing to River Rori for what-my-doctor-prescribed-at-times-like-this…but am stopped on my tracks by Mwas, the assinine half insane Genius, now displaced holding on to one dazzling Unyc beauty, like she’d fly and leave him…i could only ask about his inspiration in that post where he mathematically explained why he hadn’t cut crap for three days…he hesistates and am already on my way, making sure i whisper ‘unfinished biz’ to the beauty…and he gives me this look…of the beast!


It’s Bantuts who lightens up my evening when tells me about getting frozen by a certain ‘Phariso’…

“ata mimi alikuwa amenikausha, anafikiri apa ni Thous Africa?”

“niaje tumvuruge ka tuna Xenophobia?” Bantuts with matut’s on his head is getting agitated.

“haha, hatutoshi mboga…lakini, cheki, twende river rori nikuchangamshe na ka N-serie ivi..”

He’s up to the task and the birds of the feather weather away together, into the night.

We fly back later only to find an ‘open up session’.

” what inspired me to blog is…”

my eyes, mind, are elsewhere, scanning…and rest on a dreamy Val getting jiggy… go upto her and prop up your crotch behind her…words from her post, i about to stare elsewhere when mwanamishale steps on the floor, dressed up in Kenyan Rudge jersey, he jigs,his left feet and all, drifting towards her.She’s receptive and he snuggles her up when Sweet Love gets playing. Now, he’s all over her, like an octopus, the bull’s eye the invisible quiver! i focuse my innocent eyes elsewhere…

a tap on my shoulder, i turn…the intelligent one! beaming with a smile too bright for this night…like gushing with life like that fountain in first chronicles…

” hey man…!” i start with a compliment i forget, ” by the way, i have a damning review on local productions…”

“thanks!..great, si you just send it over..”

“and remember this time you’re paying…” i manage a big naughty grin…and his look seems to say: hey small bro, don’t squirt your thoughts on my clean crispy shirt…


I spot Supreme with a big grin on his gream face, jostling up one Waaajiko…Wenyeji are blazing on the speaker and like a full Kipupwe, he is kamataing her proper…unlimited access, i wish him luck

Savvy crosses my path again…and wait, i squint, is that Madmyke?Ooh! Reading the Ceiling like Dayo Forster…aha!

i smile with glee, very green at Myke, who is lifting his glass at me..

” nitwit-in-stinking-armour..” i breathe under my breathe, ouch!

tafuta wako…rebel thoughts scream back.


Pink M!

Oh, just as you’d think she’d be. polite, friendly though less personal and not at all bitchy!

Am all itchy to chat up someone and she falls victim…but i have to cut it short before my bad angel rouses my slumbering alcoholic demons and i make a fool of myself…

“ah, ebu flash my ka-phone…” i say, scratching my head….lame line, loser , the voices!

She is all smiles and those eyes, very glassy, betray some wisdom..that she can see through my intentions…nevertheless, she gives it to me! oh, i mean, the number, before adding..

“call big sister, aaanytime…”


3N, a winter bunny i hear, is busy engaging one black jamaa in a talk and going by his radiance, its about the influx of fat white gals on Kenyan jamaas ‘and is more than greatful to Obama for the avalanche of blessing…”

“So, the ina…eeh hiyo ya Jan 20th, you’re attending?” i ask.

Invite only! he confides, sizing up the 3 hyena-canes before him like stage props.

And the other guy, Kip, is affectionately caressing a cold tusker, like, as plato would pontificate, ‘ a big pinis’.


Gish is gushing with life too, seemingly comfortable with Kirima’s ‘arguments which, i fear, may be too intellectual for this soul.

My salams are warmly received and i note Mountainous ‘whetting his gills’ with White Caps…with the zest of those (in)famous Mt. Kenya mafias who have been drinking White Caps since Nineteen Sevente something….

As i leave, i note the way Gish in nodding, like a real Gashungwa, to Kirima’s points, sipping on what i can bet, is a drink called Alvida.

They look polite, though.


Alright, i admit, the stagger is catching up with my swagger…but i sober soon as i see Bomseh, my previous tormentor sharing out something, cheered on by akina Supreme.

i wish i knew…it was an Afrikaans mzinga, that after one sip, i feel tastes like 100 dead Boars, boiled in one pot!

Mboiz feels otherwise and i see him partake from his Rodship Bomseh’s table…well, shortly before he mwauras and chapas ma-tyre mbaya!(Blacks Out)

Poor chap. Si unipe ATM yako nikakubuyie mineral water?


The Ndi Yei is on the wheels, calling on the generally high crowd to burn the smoldering embers of the party…and steals my heart when he slips in Rock track, to which, i spring to the floor in one Bon Jovi jump…wheezing and screaming…and there, i encounter her again…together, we do our Goth world justice…serenading her bountiful behind, like no one’s bizness…

kumbe there is a happy ever after ending…after all?


Am slumped on a sofa, dejected after my vybe turned out to be Ngeli ya malenge to her ears..when my shirt is tagged.


Aki kuja nyuma yako…funika, funika funika funika..


***Of course, the above story is all but fictitious, unbearably long, but i hope you would at least pretty-end to enjoyit..

any resemblance to existing real life xteristics of the xters should be greatly hailed as an effort to upgrade an otherwise infantile imagination.

*****AOB:thanks y’all bloggers for making my 08 year inspired, you made me laugh with what you shared.

All my love!



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  1. 🙂 First you made me blush…

    But ahem…any unwanted crotches parked next to my wowowo will be kicked to kingdom come!!!!!!!

    Nice post..

  2. Me wielding a simi? *gasp!*. .. .I’m hurt. 😦 Hehehe

    Interesting post! 😀

  3. and where was I?

  4. Nice post!!
    I actually attended a party? A bloggers’ one at that?

    hehehehe, you capture the attendants quite nicely see.

  5. good post.. I like your imagination. Dont worry Xs, u were not the only one not invited

    thanks Ujo..Excess was indulging excessly in sexcessville…hakuonekana!

  6. Bouncer prevented Xs from attending. Next time toa kitu.

  7. next time i promise not chew a blackout, ill try and avoid hiyo makali bomseh alinipatia!
    nice post

  8. Tight imagination!I actually thought the said party actually happened until I say my name.

  9. The hang over just too much that I was late for the comment session.

    Very creative indeed. We should party one day you’ll get to know the real character that is SupremeGREAM. Good one good one brother.

    Seems like Archer was the bouncer that head butted XS, 31337 and others out of this bashment

  10. this was good, enjoyed the flow to the very end.

  11. nice read as I politely sip on my whitecap

  12. Me summer bunny not, I am an exiled worker…just like John Githongo.

    Nice post and very accurate recap of some of the bloggers I have met.

    oh imagination must be boasting for this post…thanks.

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