A thing called ‘Tired Third Year Syndrome’

December 15, 2009 at 6:10 pm | Posted in blogging, buddies, campuslife, d8ingame, he-motions, life | 3 Comments

Walala, hii ni Sem inengi nimelandiiii, jo…si huyu boy ni mfyam?

Yaani, there is this ka-feeling that is mostly common in those cars that have seen better (and bitter) days. Though tis not as omnipresent in me as Sir G is, i feel it creeping in like ze rock band Radio Head. Enyewe, nikichekicheki left right ivi, pia blogosphere nimeishi pia. Toka zile siku za akina Spideyfun (my blog-comi hero, lol) days akina DK (De Kwin) walikuwa wanawika hii mtaa mbaiya, hizo ma-time Mwanamishale alikuwa tu anawinda tu mos mos (ma-hits kibao nacheki kwa maskan yake..) akina Aco…KBW beefs, Augesus *did i get that right….and Modo, twololo!

Si kitambo vile, lakini miaka kadhaa ka kadhalika za Nonini zimawahi, ama?

sh*tting where u eat

Sa huu niko Lib juu ya ka-Mac Air (ka Chuo, ushisho a living soul, ata Saul, hehe) ivi na-feel tu aire aire (lol, what happened to that slang’?). Hapa tu nyuma ni m-she fulani (African Brunette) nimewahi kuwahi mwezi umepita…na kila kitu inaendelea kulingana na mpango. I was thinking about that phrase shitting where you eat (picture Samuel L. Jackon and Ashley Judd in Twisted) and i am thinking, what happened to that thing called conscience? Clearly, it is con-science!

Ok, almost.

See, i have been lying (and lying) low for the past two years and saa hii nika ndo yule simba amemenyeshewa amerausha manyoya. Tis not that i have really achieved/done that much, but it is funny how campus life has a way of breaking you out of the shell…and out the reel you rolls like a stoned rolling stone gathering not much, but mass recognition…till you, wait for it: crash and burn.  Yeah, shit happens, funny when it hits some elses’ fan, dang hilarious when you be the one courting it…

And here are some cliche: When we joined campo ivi, word on every fresh chick-ens mouth was ‘siwezi date boy wa campo mimi…nini nini…lakini two weeks later, unasikia venye alichezewa ma through pass off-campus.

But really, that doesn’t surprise me anymore not that, not anything beyond that thinking line…It doesn’t suprise me that i did all these stuff last week and still woke up this morning for two exam papers….yaani, ni kama kawaida kutupa ndwano kwa group mate, Fetch (chick) wa Christian Union..mara una-import…but then again, you realise, there is more to life than just doing girls in. See, i do not necessarily speak from a personal point of view, but, you know, you get dragged in once in a while in this giant atom sucker.

Now is when you start gathering your C.V. start chasing Club Chairmanship…call BoywaCampo for ma-certs (ficate) za mraa or ask him to edit that C.V.

“Jo, boyZ kesho na-kam na K.K. ivi tubonge juu ya ile C.V. ya mine…ama?”

And here, i reap fruits of my first two years on Campus. When i was so fucking focused on climbing those editorial ranks and raking up enough dough from subtle hussling…just enough or more than enough so i never have to start from zero.

Gallant freshmen…and the mates who dropped by the wayside

On the peak of it, when nothing really bothers you much…this is when a futuristic thought hits you that Campus aint really forever. Like today, i was signing for my exam and i realized that my name was actually the first one..followed by gallant freshas, wa! Yeah, this is when you start recalling with nostalgia the days when akina Kazi Bure, Mje, Jemo, V Road were all around…before a suspension here, an expulsion there or simply a disappearing act came along. Your route is now pretty predictable and you are not as jumpy…and in short…

We unakulia tu life kwa mfuko ka njoti (njugu/groundnuts).

Mos mos.

Hadi ‘day’ yako ifike, udondoke pia!


Rise of ‘Tigritude’: Why T. Woods is my hero

December 7, 2009 at 8:14 am | Posted in life | 6 Comments

The gut-less media is abuzz with news about Tiger’ Woods possible philandering ways. It beats logic why a man cannot be let to just be. Well, he may be in the limelight and therefore much is expected of him, but, heck, he’s still a man.

By a man, i mean, a man…MAN, not the collective biblical term that includes that species that is the root of all our woes.

Many are ways of a man, countless are his thoughts and over-the-edge, his testerone may reign, and shit, happens. Personally, i hail the guy. With all the dollars he may rake in, and the number he rates worldwide in the business of thwarking golf balls…well, he is my shortlived hero.

Here’s the little stupid reason why. (diss-claimerMay it not be said that i advocate for…(hate this word, but) adultery

All the same, he goes down the annal of history like all great men do: getting entangled in the lure tendrils of sassy mistresses. You find that when a guy achieves so much, and you are at the peak, your self esteem may not soar as much. Sometimes you need the ‘re-assurance’. Everything comes when you snap…and after a while, you start questioning whether things happen your way because of what you have or who you are. Women, at your beck and call, mostly because of the affluence’s allure…

So, once in a while, you go down murky path and seek  out that mistresses who tickles something your glamorous wife doesn’t…if you’ve read Lady Boss by Jackie Collins you may have a point to allude to…yeah, that movie boss who was hitting it with some black cop.

From my obscurity, and the rejections i’ve had in my life (mpaka i am immune) i think i lift my KK glass to this guy, for just being. And doing them all in, kwani iko nini?

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