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My Lovely Doris,

It has been a long while while since I wrote last. I miss you dearly. My heart skips several beats at the thought of your beauty… The thought of your lips against mine… The thought of your skin on mine!

I have not had time to write to you lately! I have stories for you though. There is one about a matatu dropping me off near a grave yard it the dead of the night because I didn’t have change for 1000 bob and another one where I was in the same compound with Shebesh and Sonko and there were gunshots and 1000 women screaming and shouting… At that same compound a policeman with a gun asked me to switch off the music we were listening to because it was too loud! But that one is for another day!

This is a letter I received at the beginning of this year. Another woman who is convinced she is Doris. She will state a few things she claims we did together! Do not believe her!

black-woman-writing-letterDear Ian,

You’re weird! I like weird! I love weird! I would choose weird any day.

Life has never let me choose though. If it had I would not be writing to you with tears in my eyes afraid that you are forgetting about me. I would wake up next to your freakishly long legs every morning… and other long things I remember about you. I would still be playing with your bee sting nipples on Saturday mornings while you read me funny comments on askreddit. I would be falling asleep on your chest while we watch a movie every night. We would be sharing a smoke after ruining dinner because we were busy catching a quickie. I would be wearing nothing under your t-shirt while we watch Boondocks on Sunday morning. I would be with you….

Remember our last night together? You tried singing to me. God, you have the worst voice. That didn’t stop you though; I have always loved that about you. That was one of the many nights we chose to stay in together rather than be out getting drunk and dirty with our friends. My friends were starting to complain by the way. I wore that red t-shirt of yours, that one that you always hated me for wearing because you had wanted to wear it too? Yes, that one.  Oh and you should stop looking for it, I took it with me. Your laugh was louder that night, your kisses deeper and your touch more gentle. Something was different about us that night. It was like we were not afraid to be vulnerable anymore, like nothing but us mattered. I had never been so certain of my love for you like I was on that day. As days pass, I am more convinced that I will never feel any different for you.

I hate that I had to leave but I kept something that will always remind me of that night. I kept a star from that night that shines brighter every day. Her name is Gian. She is lovely!

Something bothers me, you are not writing to me as much as you used to. You are even letting other men write to me, I don’t hate the attention. Worse, you wrote to Adele! The latter arouses very many different shades of jealous in me. What is happening to your feelings for me? Surely you are not going to forget about me, are you? I would hate to not have your letters to hug tight at night when my husband sleeps over at his third wife’s house. We need to talk; our talk has been long overdue. I am afraid, however, that I might not go back to my husband’s house if I so much as get a two second hug from you…. Aaaah your hugs! Those used to feel so good.

Please find a good woman to take care of you. I hear you are becoming thinner and are beginning to look sickly. I wish I could cook for you again but… well, responsibilities. Every once in a while I will sneak away for a smoke in honor of what we used to be. I hope you found your monglinyo, sorry had to put that somewhere.

I have to go make dinner and practice my happy look for when he comes…if he comes.

I luv you!

Yours now and forever,

The Real Doris

 

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OPEN LETTER TO ADELE LAURIE BLUE ADKINS


Dear Adele,

This blog was meant for letters to my one and only love Doris. Do not get this wrong. You are being addressed on stolen time… aren’t those always the best?

This might bring a few issues between Doris and myself. I have thought about this move long and hard… I am doing it.

Before I started I googled ‘how to start a love letter’ and out of the 12 pages I looked through, not a single one really brought out what I wanted to say… all of them started with pet names… sweetheart and honey… and my love… and my beautiful… to me you are neither… I would rather address you as ‘my soon to be’… ok I am being a bit psychopathic… Dear Adele did it just fine.

I am sure you haven’t been reading my letters to Doris so you have no idea why I am writing to you… let me brig you up to speed… Walk to the nearest reflecting surface and look at yourself…

You have probably noticed that you are plus sized… this tiny fact (the word play is not intentional) is big… I am completely weak for big women… If I had the kind of money you have… and you had the kind of money I had (which is above average in Kenya)… I would have asked you to marry me… this makes no sense…

Still at that reflective surface? If so, you have probably noticed the hue of your skin… it is more light than dark… yes? Obvious… I love yelo yelo women… you are white… oh my knees tremble… You probably smell like white people… I like how clean white people smell… they smell like shampoo… and lotion… and candles… and soap… and eucalyptus… and jojoba.

CN1m3

This made me laugh a bit…

Your songs are sad… An intern at my office told me yesterday that your ex boyfriend left you for a man… is this why your songs are so sad? You need someone to love you good… a tall black man… who just shaved off his signature beard. By the way I just shaved off my signature beard. The barber did it by mistake… so o refused to pay him…

I love big, intelligent, yelo yelo women with tiny feet… I don’t know about your shoe size but your voice can be substituted with the feet… I like your voice…

Its 1.30am as I write this… I can’t even think straight… and I am doing this on my phone… this is a bit hard because my eyesight is shit… sorry for cussing. So you are aware how serious this is.

I am sorry but I don’t think the lyrics to ‘set fire to the rain’ make sense… the chorus totally loses me… ‘I set fire to the rain… watch it burn… then I touch your face…’ Come on Adele… But worry not… when we ate together we will go through a few songs I have been writing which I think are amazing…

I heard that you found someone and you are married now… (jinx). You have a kid now? This being with you thing is getting slimmer by the paragraph…

I do not want your money though… I have enough of my own… at least till December… then, if we are together that is, we can work some sort of deal out… yes? So us will not be about money… yes? I don’t have much in tangible materials … but in my heart, I have everything!

What beauty!

What beauty!

I am tired and I have an early morning… plus I have to watch Groods before I sleep… so my darling… allow me to pen off… pen off is so high school…

I will write to you again someday… hopefully before December.

I can love you.

Yours.

For @lydzayar its people like you who make me keep writing.

 
 

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Money Lover


My Lovely Piece of Chicken,

Love, I know you are a bit perplexed at why I refer to you as a piece of chicken… I mean not to deprecate or diminish your worth in my heart… I, but see you as an edible piece of delicious chicken… How I long for your skin to play upon my lips… As I kiss your thighs… As I eat you… Your tender skin only but loyal to my lips upon every kiss…

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

I think I have been watching Spartacus a bit too long, my grammar is all weird…

It rained hard this morning… So I stayed in bed longer than usual… I woke up at 10am. I woke up to the site of my househelp bent upon the floor scrubbing the tiles beneath her. I am not sure if you quite see what I am trying to say! It is not a sight to wake up to…WHO LET HER INTO THE HOUSE IN THE FIRST PLACE! What do you know, maybe tomorrow I might wake up to the watchman shitting in my toilet! BOUNDERIES YE NIGGAS!

On to other things… Driving to work with all the puddles, you have to mind the pedestrians… Eventhough no one minded me on the days I used to be a pedestrian… my parents taught me right though… I try my best never to splash dirty water at any man or woman… I even stop the car sometimes, which normally drives the person in the car behind me furious!

When I got to Westlands though, I came by a white pedestrian… I splashed water at him. He did not look like a nice person! I don’t like people who do not look like nice people…

“YOU COCK!” He shouted at me frantically waving his middle finger at me! The white man in his right mind thought it right to refer to me as a male hen… I do not understand people!453_562308470454489_693772547_n

But this letter was not about cocks or white men… This is about this song called Money Lover by Sauti Sol which if you did not know is my best band in the world followed quite closely by Coldpaly and Boyz || Men.

Listen to the song here

It is A JAM! So there is this part in the song that goes like, “Heri uliye kwenye rage rover, ama ucheke kwenye boda boda… Ukose usingizi Runda, masaibu yanakufuata…” which if you do not understand Kiswahili, simply means, “would you rather cry in a range rover or laugh on a bicycle… Lack sleep in Runda with problems following you” That translation sucks but its close and that is all that matters…

About this part, I have for the longest time felt this was a no brainer… AS IN YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS I WILL BE WEEPING IN THAT RANGE ROVER!!!! AND I WILL BE WIDE AWAKE IN THAT MANSION IN RUNDA! Plus try picture yourself laughing on a bicycle… If your picture is right, you should be looking like a mad man! Did you ever read this Kiswahili storybook in Primary called, ‘Mjinga Na Kioo’? It is a brilliant example of how you look laughing on a bicycle…

Then the other night when I was listening to the song I stopped to think about it… Here is what I came up with.

As in try thinking about what would make you cry… A cheating husband… Death of a child… cutting onions… You losing your job… The list goes on and on! NOW TRY IMAGINING GOING THROUGH ALL THIS EVERY SINGLE MINUTE OF THE DAY!!! EVERY DAY! Now add the range rover… Sad huh! You would probably drive that car into a creek or something! Maybe not creek, maybe Nairobi River!

Second bit… “Ukose usingizi Runda, masaibu yanakufuata…” Should I even explain this?

So I changed my mind about what I had ealier felt… I WOULD RATHER LAUGH MY ASS OFF STRAPPED ON THAT BODA BODA… I would look psycho… But I wouyld be one happy mothapsycho!

Sauti Sol has just released a new song called STILL THE ONE another BIG JAM! Listen to it here:

My Love Doris, I leave you with this…

 
3 Comments

Posted by on April 17, 2013 in comedy, love

 

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Romance…


My Lovely Doris,

Don’t expect me to be sane anymore. Don’t let’s be sensible. I can’t see how I can go on living away from you—these intermissions are death. How did it seem to you when your husband came back? Was I still there? I can’t picture you moving about with him as you did with me. Legs closed. Frailty. Sweet, treacherous acquiescence. Bird docility. You became a woman with me. I was almost terrified by it. You are not just thirty years old—you are a thousand years old.

Here I am back and still smouldering with passion, like wine smoking. Not a passion any longer for flesh, but a complete hunger for you, a devouring hunger. I read the paper about suicides and murders and I understand it all thoroughly. I feel murderous, suicidal. I feel somehow that it is a disgrace to do nothing, to just bide one’s time, to take it philosophically, to be sensible. Where has gone the time when men fought, killed, died for a glove, a glance, etc?

I still hear you singing in the kitchen—a sort of inharmonic, monotonous Cuban wail. I know you’re happy in the kitchen and the meal you’re cooking is the best meal we ever ate together. I know you would scald yourself and not complain. I feel the greatest peace and joy sitting in the dining room listening to you rustling about, your dress like the goddess Indra studded with a thousand eyes.

My lovely Doris, I only thought I loved you before; it was nothing like this certainty that’s in me now. Was all this so wonderful only because it was brief and stolen? Were we acting for each other, to each other? Was I less I, or more I, and you less or more you? Is it madness to believe that this could go on? When and where would the drab moments begin? I study you so much to discover the possible flaws, the weak points, the danger zones. I don’t find them—not any. That means I am in love, blind, blind. To be blind forever!

I picture you playing the records over and over— your husbands records. “Parlez moi d amour.” The double life, double taste, double joy and misery. How you must be furrowed and ploughed by it. I know all that, but I can’t do anything to prevent it. I wish indeed it were me who had to endure it. I know now your eyes are wide open. Certain things you will never believe anymore, certain gestures you will never repeat, certain sorrows, misgivings, you will never again experience. A kind of white criminal fervour in your tenderness and cruelty. Neither remorse nor vengeance, neither sorrow nor guilt. A living it out, with nothing to save you from the abysm but a high hope, a faith, a joy that you tasted, that you can repeat when you will.

All morning I was at my notes, ferreting through my life records, wondering where to begin, how to make a start, seeing not just another book before me but a life of books. But I don’t begin. The walls are completely bare—I had taken everything down before going to meet you. It is as though I had made ready to leave for good. The spots on the walls stand out—where our heads rested. While it thunders and lightnings I lie on the bed and go through wild dreams. People are saying we will be miserable, we will regret, but we are happy, we are laughing always, we are singing. We are admitted everywhere and they strew our path with flowers.

I say this is a wild dream—but it is this dream I want to realize. Life and literature combined, love the dynamo, you with your chameleon’s soul giving me a thousand loves, being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are. In the mornings, continuing where we left off. Resurrection after resurrection. You asserting yourself, getting the rich varied life you desire; and the more you assert yourself the more you want me, need me. Your voice getting hoarser, deeper, your eyes blacker, your blood thicker, your body fuller. A voluptuous servility and tyrannical necessity. More cruel now than before—consciously, wilfully cruel. The insatiable delight of experience.

Yours forever,

Ian

Above is a letter from the book ‘A Literate Passion: Letters of Anais Nin and Henry Miller, 1932-1953′ I loved it so much that I decided tailor it for Doris. Or rather, copy pasted with Doris’s name thrown here and there! The original letter can be found here.

 
2 Comments

Posted by on February 22, 2013 in love, random, sex, women tales

 

How To Cheat


(In case you missed this on crazynairobian.com)

My Lovely Doris,

I mean what I am about to say. I know distance weakens faith and trust… And love… Distance makes you do things… Lie, cheat, and lie some more… That, might have been how man was built! The moment we lose something, we quickly find a way of replacing it with something else – all because of the fear of emptiness loss comes with… Distance! I have not seen your beautiful face for almost 8 years now. Vast waters separate us… It kills me… The thought that you might be enjoying the distance crushes me… I forgive you for what you have done and are yet to do… Distance! A man resides in your house… Your neighbor updates me. I am not afraid. The thought of seeing you again sometime strengthens my faithfulness to you. There will be no other. No woman comes close to you in my heart.

What I am about to tell you is extremely important… Man lies! There are careers even fueled by how well one can lie… Look at lawyers, politicians, cobblers!

Don’t try making sense out of cobblers, I couldn’t come up with a third one so I wrote the first thing that came to my mind!

I lie a lot… and I suck at it… I am always busted.

To cheat, you need to be excellent at lying… I am going to teach you how to cheat… Exciting huh?? I love it!

Please be advised that I can’t stand this behavior and anyone caught doing it should be… well… Yeah!

I am going to teach you from true stories of my life… (I can hear teeth chatter)

I was no more than 10 years old! And I was going out with 3 of the sexiest women in my class. This is how to do it…

Let me create a scene…

I sat right at the front of my class… So close to my teacher I could smell the insides of her hand bag every time she unzipped it… It smelt like IT! You all remember IT??? This is not a joke… There was an insecticide called IT! But this story is not about my teachers hand bag… She once called my mother and told her I have refused to learn how to spell because she couldn’t convince me sugar was spelt as is and not SHUGA!!! I still strongly feel that it should be spelt my way… No man can convince me otherwise… But I am an educated man… Education is doing shit in a way someone else thinks it should be done! I gave up in trying to figure out silent letters and how lasanya becomes lasagne! I am losing plot!!! Back to cheating!

One of the women I was dating, Loise*, (not her real name, she might have grown up and become a lawyer!) sat right at the back right corner. She was not attractive… In fact, I didn’t find her beautiful at all. But she was brainy! I love intelligent women! Intelligence is like ‘no underwear’, its like half way there! She taught me how to divide numbers. You need women like that in your life… its not like homework will do itself… That was her duty… Homework. She finished hers and did mine in a different handwriting. I am not a bad person… So in return, I held her hand everyday as we walked home… This, ladies and gentlemen, is the hardest shit to do at the age of 9! But I was willing to do anything to clear school… I held her hand with pride! I finished school by the way!

Victoria* was pretty! As in extremely pretty! But no whiff of wit whatsoever! In fact, Victoria was her real name! Her job was PR. To make me look good. In class 3 looks get you further than grades…. Trust me, IT WILL NOT MATTER IF YOUR GIRLS CAN RECITE THE MULTIPLICATION TABLE BACKWARDS!!! If she is not fly…. It doesn’t fly! This pretty girl coming from a rich family would be a plus… I like rich beautiful girls… Keeping Victoria was a task though. Every Tom, Dick and Harry bought her stuff at break time. My income was limited. I had two companies that did not bring in enough money! MAMA LTD and BABA INC. I had to do better than Tom, Dick and the other one. This called for more money than I had. So I got a stupid friend. A boy I would lie to to give me all his break money! It is not easy tolerating a fool, but my Victoria had to be pampered!

Last but not least, Shyrose Shah. That is her real name. I dont give two squirts of piss using her real name on here! Her family hates black people anyways… AND SHE EATS MEAT!!! Yes Shyrose… I said it! You already know how hard it was for me to put up with this one! Her name went against my Luo normal ways of pronunciation! Sairose Sa! Thats how it would sometimes come out! Her duty was very important… She supplied humongous bags of flavored crisps and chevda! I sometimes used her to supply Victoria’s needs. And just to prove that ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his tummy’ I ended up with this one! Victoria repeated class 3 (was not good for PR) and Loise* wanted more than holding hands… By more I mean doing my own homework… I wasn’t taking that crap!

You must be asking yourself how I kept them from knowing about each other… Simple… Being caught never crossed my mind… My brain was too small to satisfy three women at the same time, figure out how to spell and multiply shit AND START GETTING WORRIED ABOUT GETTING CAUGHT!

So if you are cheating, and you are there thinking about getting caught… You will be caught! Oh yes you will!

That right there reminds me about a story, ‘The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives’ by Lola Shoneyin. Baba Segi has 4 wives! Iya Segi is his first wife who is loud and huge… She is the boss lady and runs Baba Segi’s house. You already know a fat loud woman as a first wife cannot be told! Iya Tope is the second wife. She was forced into the marriage by Baba Segi. She she has nothing much to say! Iya femis is the third wife. This ones heart burns with vengence… That statement will be clear in my next sentence! Bolanle is Baba Segis fourth and final wife. Iya Femi does not appreciate this and works her ass off to see it that Bolanle is out! She works hand in hand with Iya Segi to see this plot through! Bolanle is a threat because she is young and educated thus posing as a great threat to the other wives! Like I said, an educated woman HAS POWER!

Funniest bit of the story is all the wives have multiple kids except Bolanle, who has non at all… EVen funnier, Baba Segi is sterile… Very cool book… was nominated for the 2011 Orange Prize for Fiction and will appeal to readers who enjoy African literature.

You can come meet the author of ‘The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives’ Lola Shoneyin, MYSELF and other amazing local and international authors at The Storymoja Hay Festival which will be going down from 13th to 16th September 2012 at The Nairobi National Museum.

By now you already know how terrible my spelling and grammar is… I like doing things my way…

 
3 Comments

Posted by on September 3, 2012 in comedy, love, my quotes, sex, women tales

 

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The Amazing Goodnight!


Dear Doris,

You fail me my love. Still no word from you. You let my heart be consoled by strange women. I received yet another letter. I could not understand a single word said in it but I was happy. Happy that another woman consoles my heart after noticing the tireless effort I input on trying to make you love me again!

It worries me that we might never be in love like we used… It worries me that I might be fighting a losing battle… But I would rather fight the battle anyway. Maybe someday you will realize we were brought to this earth to spend our lives together!

I apologize in advance, for the coming two months will pass with minimal communication because of this huge project I am part of that is going to take most of my time – and that is the Storymoja Hay Festival.

I am writing today about ‘The Amazing Goodnight!’ I am sure every single man reading this at this moment has experienced this. If you have not experienced this then there is something extremely wrong with you!!

Let me create a scene for you:

You are in the club and see this irresistible woman! She is in a tiny red dress and midnight black felt heels… Her hair is long and light and sways with the slightest move of her head. Her waist is slender and her behind worth an effort. Her eye lashes seductively call out with every blink…

You have to have her…

You walk to her… Small talk… You make her laugh… You pound on your chest with pride on the inside… She gives you her number which you save on all your phones and back up on a cloud incase shit happens and you lose your phone…

You do not communicate for 3 days like the typical male Homo sapiens…

Then you text…

‘Hey beautiful?’

She replies, ‘Who is this?’

You reply, ‘Onyango!’

She might not remember… Or she remembers and is playing games… Either way, you have to explain yourself.

‘We me Saturday night!’ You reply…

‘oh yeah. :)’ she replies.

My friend this is how you tell you are about to get an ‘amazing goodnight!’

She will say ‘I am not interested in talking to you right now’ politely. If you have the slightest bit of intellect, you will, and I stress, end this conversation like this or any other way you deem right…

‘Was just checking up on your beautiful self…’

She might say ‘Awww. Thanks’ or just ‘Thanks!’ Do not reply this text… That way you both go to bed happy…

Things will go wrong if you reply tis,

‘oh yeah. :)’ with, ‘so how are you?’

This is like asking the pope about condoms… He has heard everything on the topic!

If you get an extremely rude woman, she will say, ‘I am ok. Nyt.’ That is 1st Degree AMAZING GOODNIGHT! (It is called amazing because it does not call for a response. It ends the conversation immediately)

You might also get, ‘ttyl. goodnight!’ 2nd DEGREE AMAZING GOODNIGHT. (she has given you permission to try again another day!)

Or, ‘goin to bed now. Will call you tmrw’ 3rd DEGREE AMAZING GOODNIGHT. (Be warned that SHE WILL NOT CALL. She has, without mentioning it, given you the permission to call her the next day)

Normally she will be doing something thats evidently more important than talking to you; like, ‘Have to drive my dad to the hospital’ or ‘talking to mum’

Be advised that an AMAZING GOODNIGHT has no response whatsoever. If you receive the the texts or anything near them, do not reply. Go to bed and think about what you are doing wrong!!

Some men will reply though, it is not like we were all born on a dark Friday night! … Be advised that from that reply onwards, you should declare yourself a slave! You just gave a woman enough reason to walk all over you! AND SHE WILL! AND YOU WILL LET HER!

Signs of an ‘amazing goodnight’

  • Shortened words: ttyl, nyt, gdnyt, slp tyt, tmrw, goin, night.
  • Signs of no efforts to write the text: tk kesho, :), :-)
  • Curt/rude: i am ok. nyt.

But do not lose heart… Amazing goodnights are just a woman’s way of saying ‘I don’t feel like talking to you right now’ it is way better than us men WHO WILL NOT REPLY if we do not feel like talking…

Like I always say, ‘If she had the time to say NO, then she can be convinced…’™

For Brendah

 
 

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Who is the Real Doris??


When I posted the letter from Dorcas* yesterday morning I had no idea what I was starting. I have been receiving letters from people claiming to be Doris the whole day. Here is another one…

———–

Dear Ian,

I am a very angry woman. Rights now my weave is on the floor because of you. Before we go any further, who is this woman? Please explain it to me who she is. I am mad I tell you. I know I have cheated on you twice before, but you forgave me and we moved on. You said you loved me and you looked to the future with our two kids. The 26 years of marriage is a lie now. They were all lies. Smh.

I knew something was up the moment you moved to WordPress. Long gone are the TypePad days when you could exhaust the entire letter exalting my flawless glamor. These days you just mention it in the first sentence then you go ahead to describe the floozies you had good times with. You are not the man I married any more. When you are not stealing novels, you are fighting in bars. When you are not fighting in bars, you are having paying for sex in Sabina Joy. Instead of minding your business in a matatu, you are busy reading other people’s texts and staring at lady parts. What is with all these matatu business, I thought you told me you were about to buy a car? What kind of husband are you?

I really miss the simple diary you used to write every day. It kept me warm, knowing that I am in your mind wherever you are. Where are you today? Italy? France? Venezuela? Or you are still in your all white party in Hawaii? Never mind. You used to start all of them with ‘dear doris’. These days you are using the sophisticated words to replace mine (WTH is enchantment?). Are they really addressed to me or it is those padded yellow yellows she was referring to?

So how long have you been with that woman (who calls a child dorcas anyway)? Charity begins with the neighbours across the road I guess. I must admit that is very smart. I know you were brusquely in her doorstep telling her that it has been a typo all along. She was too blond to realize that she is not the one. This makes me suspect that there are many more. Hell, you even go for blind dates these days.  Shame on you. You are sharing lady parts with 15 year olds. Shame.

I shall move on. Though my love for you is unfathomable, I shall move on. I will discard all those sundresses that you like. I shall resort to flat shoes and throw away those black heels with red soles. I was doing it for you yet you are busy looking elsewhere. Go ahead and chase them. When you fall, you shall find a hard cold floor. We shall not be around. I’d rather marry the maid, she has refused to leave me and the kids alone after all.

The kids say hi. Let’s keep them out of this.

Doris.

Doris are you out there? Email me on arungaian@yahoo.com

 
9 Comments

Posted by on July 17, 2012 in guest posts, love

 

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THE GIRL CHILD :/


My Lover,

Darling, my darling.  One line in haste to tell you that I love you more today than ever in my life before, that I never see beauty without thinking of you or scent happiness without thinking of you. You have fulfilled all my ambition, realized all my hopes, made all my dreams come true.

You have set a crown of roses on my youth and fortified me against the disaster of our days.  Your courageous gaiety has inspired me with joy.  Your tender faithfulness has been a rock of security and comfort.  I have felt for you all kinds of love at once.

I have asked much of you and you have never failed me. You have intensified all colours, heightened all beauty, deepened all delight. I love you more than life, my beauty, my wonder.

This letter will not be long. I dont have a story to tell you… I do but its not long! I just wanted something small to wish you a HAPPY EASTER.

SCENE ONE:

Yesterday on my way home seated on THE SPOT on some old matatu. On my right is a primary school girl. She can’t sit still. She is moving a lot and is talking to the driver like they are married! She is tiny, she is in class six – I am sure of it – I will explain this a little bit later!

Strange thing is, she talks a lot of sense. Or rather the truth! Not sense… Truth is more like it! She talked all the way home!

“Mbona haukumaliza shule?” she asks the driver at the top of her voice… Her voice pierces through the loud radio like a gunshot through an abandoned farm-house! Everyone in the matatu struggle to follow this conversation!

“Nilimaliza!” The driver answers on hesitated breath!

“Kweli? Na mbona unado kazi ya matatu?” She interrogates with no remorse!

Here is the funny part! The makanga reduces the radio volume with his remote control… It reduces in loud annoying beeps until you can barely hear anything!

“Iko na pesa…” The driver answers fast in distorted speech… He is clearly not comfortable with the rest of the passengers listening in to this conversation… AND IT WAS GOING DOWNHILL!

“Ati?” the little girl inquires! “umesema?” she continues!

“Nimesemaaaaaa, iko na pesa!” the driver answers! More certain of his statement!

“Na mbona haujajivaa kama mtu ako na pesa?” She comes back like JACK BAUER!

“haha!” the driver laughs! He has completely nothing to say… I can tell from his face he is thinking about something to say… He gets it!

“Hizi ni nguo za job!” He answers with confidence! He had NO idea whats coming his way!

“Uko na manguo mzuri kuliko hizi?” The girl asks… An easy one for the driver!

“Ehhhh… Mob sana!” He answers!

“Na mbona unanuka jasho? ama hio pia ni job tu?” This girl was going too far and no matter how honest she was, she was getting annoying!

“haha!” the driver laughs in embarrassment! He is handling it well… He ignores for a while!

“haujanijibu!” the girl comes from nowhere!! The makanga is choking from laughter!

“Jibu mtoi!” the makanga spits!

“haha!” The driver laughs again! He ignores!

“Ukifika nyumbani uogesawa !” The girl says and digs into her back pack to unleash a huge tub of Lyons ice cream! She holds it with one hand and digs even deeper to get her spoon… We are at the Koinange roundabout! She is digging through the ice cream like a a mad human being… Which she is actually!

The driver decides to ask the kid a question! The man digging his own grave! I am sure he knew better!

“Uko class?” He asks in a smile… stealing glimpses at the child as she gobbles down her ice cream!

“Eight!” she answers confidently! Thats how I know she is in class six! She has ink stains all over her dress. This means she hasnt used an ink pen very long! Her socks and shoes are very dirty meaning she is playful… A candidate at this time of year doesn’t have that much time! She went out and bought a litre of ice cream… I am just trying to prove that she was not ready for the national exam!

“Mamangu aliniambia nisipomaliza primary ntaendesha matatu!” she spit amidst her gluttonous actions! The driver shuts up!

She was already halfway through with the ice cream by the time we got to Chiromo!

SCENE TWO: At Chiromo Campus gate, theres a couple thoroughly making out on the curb! They are literally eating up each other’s faces!

I cant lie, I was staring! Plus the matatu had stopped to drop people off!

Ok @kipepeomjini just called me. I am going to Brew Bistro and she is the only ride I have there…. I promise to tell you how it all goes down on my next letter.

The little girl turns on me… Please dont be mad!

First to third paragraph was done by Duff Cooper, English politician, to Diana, his future
wife on August 20, 1918.

 
4 Comments

Posted by on April 5, 2012 in love, matatu tales, random

 

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MY MOSQUITO OBITUARIES


Dear Doris,

Just to warn you before I go any further, I am extremely confused as I write this letter. A lot of things my not make sense and some might not even be relevant. But all in all, please read it to the end, it might just make sense at the last sentence. I know you never read my letters to the bottom because on your replies, no question I ask on the second paragraph onwards is never answered. But it is ok my love. Who am I to tell you what to read and what not to read?!

A random memory; as a kid our house help Rhoda told me that if I flashed the toilet I would grow taller. I was a naughty child; you can ask any of my mothers! For the longest time I flashed the toilet 3 times after doing the poo poo and twice after susu. Then I would stand straight against the wall and mark how tall I had grown with charcoal! The weird thing is that I was growing taller and fast… I increased to 4 flashes after poo poo and three after susu. I am now taller than the average human and it scares me that Rhoda might have been right! The only thing I think she lied to me about was if I did all my homework I would be president! I am still waiting on that one.

Doris, we don’t talk anymore like we used to? People are starting to talk! Someone asked me today if we are divorced! I am actually starting to think we are my love! I know we have our differences but I believe our love is way stronger than whatever differences two people would go through!

Let me brighten up this letter!

So I have finally decided I am not a normal child. People have problems I know, me I have ALL THE PROBLEMS! I have always wondered why my brother calls me Looney but I finally came into agreement with his statement when I started going through my journals!

an obituary page
an obituary page

I have A LOT of journals! My life from 10 to 20 is depicted in writing! I had like 25 journals until I started moving houses a lot and can only find six WHICH IS SO FUCKIN* SCARY! Someone somewhere is probably reading about how I lost my virginity… The only comforting detail I have is my terrible handwriting. At some point of my life I was the only one that could read my handwriting until I started getting paid to write letters to girls in high school and people complained! I am glad to say my handwriting is now the best in my bedroom!

Like I was saying…. I was going through my journals which I have decided I will share with you… ok scratch the sharing part!

I was going through this particular journal (Feb 2007-Oct 2007), which was dedicated to my mother. Most of it was the normal stuff, sex, women, college and more women oh and a suicidal note, which I will share with you on my next, post ITS HILARIOUS!

the late Dr. Diehard Emilio
the late Dr. Diehard Emilio

Moving on! Everything was making sense until I came to the last pages of the book… here is where I knew I needed a doctor! Like the last 10pages were full of dead mosquitoes stuck on them using transparent tape! I KNOW RIGHT!!!! But that is not the weird part: under each mosquito was an obituary! AT SOME POINT OF MY LIFE I ACTUALLY SPENT TIME ON KILLING MOSQUITOS, TAPING THEM ON A BOOK AND WRITING TEIR OBITUARIES!!!

You are not the only one thinking I need help right now!

I have an excuse for this abnormal activity. The house I stayed in at the time had a school of mosquitos every night that were completely immune to insecticide! I tried everything! Even the burning coiled thing, which almost killed me coz of all the fumes! A mosquito net was out of the question because these insects were like the SWAT! They would find a way in and they would come at you with everything they got! In a night I would slap dead more than 20 mosquitoes!


You know how annoying it is when you have a mosquito buzzing in your room at night? Well try to imagine 50 of them buzzing at the same time… its like Mozart and Akon doing a piece together!

So I decided to make killing mosquitos fun by collecting them and writing their obituaries, which was extremely fun! I gave them names and manner of death and fundraiser dates and all… YOU THINK I AM MAD HUH!?

I am listening to Coming home by Sauti Sol which is by far my favorite jam!

“popote ulipoooooo, ninakuwaza mamaaa”

The Late Nishike Nisijinyonge
The Late Nishike Nisijinyonge

 (This is dedicated to @Kirigongarua who showed concern about the probable separation between Doris and I)

 
32 Comments

Posted by on February 27, 2012 in comedy, love, my art, near death

 

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MY SUGAR MUMMY


Dear Doris,

Please wipe that look on your face and at least listen to the story before you judge me!! Yes, that’s more like it… You looked like you had swallowed a piggy bank!!

How are you my love? A few letters I had written you sometime last month were sent back to me…. Apparently you didn’t know the sender!!! Babe, whats going on? Ok asking for a divorce was understandable, I am always out of the country for business… BUT DECIDING YOU DO NOT KNOW ME ANYMORE IS A TAD, WELL… RUDE! I am not even sure you will get this one! I will write anyways.

I am going to dive right in it… Clearly my title does not allow me otherwise! I was out last Saturday… Like every other saturday of my life. At Quins to be exact. The crowd was fertile… By fertile i mean there was an approachable woman every half degree of head rotation! Does my last statement make sense? Then again, I don’t care!

So I want you to see exactly what is going on as it goes on. I want you to be in my shoes….I hope you can fit into a size 11! I will build the scene for you… I really hope you can read and understand English…

Koro achung e club büt DJ. Thum muoch marachhhh… Amadho kon’go ma tekre ne thoth ndi! Nyiri opong dabal… Nungo winyre to nyosre mo otamo wan’ga!

Ok that was a joke… Please get a Luo friend to help you with that last paragraph… No I will not be tribalistic… In English:

I am in the club, standing next to the DJ. The… This post is a bit boring… It’s not building up the way I want it to…

So to cut a long story short… This woman comes to me… she is well above 40. Her dread locks are well maintained and are rooting for her ass… which looked half her age! She is not pretty, but you can tell she is taking care of herself… The wrinkles under her eyes are well maintained… They are evident but not sagging like the ones most women her age do! Her fingers are heavily wrinkled. She is wearing a wedding ring that looks like its been round her finger longer than I have been alive. She is in white linen and her red heels look expensive. Her dress has its hem slightly above the knee. You can almost glimpse at her thighs!

She has heavy beads round her neck. rough beads, almost looks like ivory. Same material on her earrings! Her wrist watch looks expensive… 

She walks to me… Halfway across the club. Everyone around me is dancing vigorously to the dub step playing so she is quite ambiguous because she approaches slowly… Its like those exorcism movies where the possessed soul is so evident in a congregation! I sip my drink (that is blue by the way)!

She comes close enough to feel te hairs on my chest (I don’t have those)!

“I want you!” she whispers and turns around then heads back to her seat! The message was clear… It pierced through the loud music like there was no music at all… I sipped my drink!

Everyone around me was now staring at me… I felt naked…. I had to change my location! I went and sat at the far end of the bar, talking to this girl who knew me so well! I had no clue who she was!

“I can give you anything you want!” A whisper! The same voice from earlier! The story line then thickens! This woman was willing to get me a unicorn…

She winks at me then walks away!

I was getting freaked out so I change locations again! I am now at the furthest end of the club, near the bathroom… My plan… I would get into the bathroom if I was to spot her coming my way…

It was not long until I saw her… Approaching like gliding pelican… Thing is, she had this thing… the only way I can explain it is, ‘that thing that holds you on the track when a train is approaching!’

I was helpless.. She penetrated through the rowdy crowd like a snake…

“I want you to be mine… Tonight!” She whispered! She had pinned me against the wall! Her face almost touching mine! I was scared she might try to kiss me and infect me with a disease!

It was time TO LEAVE THAT CLUB!

I am outside the club… waiting for my people so that we can leave… Guess who I see… YES! The woman in white linen! She, for the first time, has her hand bag. She was probably leaving too.. No, SHE WAS DEFINITELY LEAVING! She walks to me… This time, she does not say a word! She is holding a business card. Her intention was to slip it into my breast pocket! Almost all my shirts do not have breast pockets… So after a few seconds of trial and error, she slips it in me trouser back pocket… She grabs on my ass in the process! I do not move an inch!

I know her name and where she works…

I will not mention names, lakini, If your mother or grandmother drives a maroon X6, plates KXX XX9R she is willing to give me anything I want…

(I think I just broke a home Doris)

 
50 Comments

Posted by on January 25, 2012 in love, sex, women tales

 

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SHARON IS BEING CHEATED ON


Dear Doris,

(Dear reader, please be advised that I already wrote this post but somehow it vanished in the process of posting it. Sorry for the inconveniency. I am up at 1am trying to re-do it)

My love, tears are pouring down my face as I type this letter. Don’t worry, nothing is wrong, I have just finished watching WAR HORSE and the movie is extremely shattering! I thought it was going to be a bad movie, just like all the other movies about horses (except Secretariat, which I loved) but Spielberg has proved me wrong! I have read the novel that I didn’t get to finish….

But this letter is not about horses!!

My love, I am writing you this letter to confess a bad habit that is gradually taking over my innocent heart…. ITS NOT TOUCHING MYSELF so get your brains off the sewer!

Let me explain!

I take 5 matatus everyday! That is A LOT! I think! But something tells me I have mentioned this before! Normally a matatu ride is boring and uncomfortable! A man my height is in so many problems! To make it worse, I think all routes give our route all their old matatus! Our route is filled with old rickety cans for matatus! There is absolutely nothing to do in a matatu, if you are lucky, you might spot a yellow padded woman outside who will satisfy your eyes for a second or two… and if you are extremely lucky, this woman might be seated right next to you!! At this point, you control your fate… You can choose to sit there and sweat your balls out or lie to this woman all the way and get away with a phone number you might never use! But how often does this happen?? I know you are asking yourself, “listening to music?” well my friend… THESE MATATUS ARE SO DAMN LOUD YOU CAN BARELY HEAR MUSIC FROM YOUR HEAD PHONES!

So in my suffering, I have developed a terrible habit… To read people’s texts as they type them!!! IT’S SO ADDICTIVE! Please don’t judge me… Do you, I’ll do me, sawa?

I can swear I have seen all types of conversations… from apologies to ‘last night was amazing’ texts! From ‘I miss your kisses’ texts to ‘We need to F* soon’ texts!!! From “lets make up’ texts to ‘if you are not home by 9 dont bother coming’ texts! I have even come across, ‘ma just passed’ texts! I have been doing this for four years… trust me I have seen them all! My eyesight is terrible, so you can imagine how demanding this is for me!

I sometimes tweet the conversations I see. Follow me on @arungaian and you might come across a few. I have 15,000+ tweets so good luck with that…

But I am blogging about this today because I came across a special case!

THE STORY:

This beautiful woman gets into the matatu and sits right in front of me! She is padded and has the cutest face. She is wearing a black sun dress with purple flowers. Her braids are curly and are softly falling on her back like a mane that has just been dressed! Her cheeks  are full and her nick ringed! On her feet are those shoes people call ‘condom shoes’, the ones you get at Bata that have holes everywhere! She is wearing Davidoff… She smells like the 4th heaven! Dont ask me how I know women scent…

This woman has all my senses arrested… I concentrate on nothing else for the first few minutes, until she starts texting…

Here is the thread:

(Please note that the messages might have been distorted a bit, probably because I am not a video recorder to catch every line, but the story is pretty much the same)

Tim: I am sorry it will never happen again!

Her: you say that every time this happens Tim…

Tim: I messed up… You deserve the best. From now on I will be just that.

Her: I don’t know if I can do this anymore… This time you stabbed too deep!

Tim: Are you breaking up with me?!

PAUSE: LADIES, IF A MAN JUMPS INTO CONCLUSIONS SUCH AS THIS LIKE THIS… HE PROBABLY WANTS TO BREAK UP WITH YOU BUT DOESNT HAVE THE BANTAS TO DO SO. SO HE TRICKS YOU INTO DOING IT FOR HIM!

Her: Give me a single reason not to and I will not…

This was all I was able to see before she got off.

This happens all the time, cheating is a game played by an outstanding number. Even YOU reading this know a story or two…

Sad thing is, this woman’s wallpaper was a little girl that she kept on looking at after every text she sent… She got of the matatu crying. Broke my heart!

(There, I have typed it again!! I love you all that much)

 
5 Comments

Posted by on January 19, 2012 in big beautiful women, love, matatu tales, sex

 

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WOMEN IN TURQUOISE (season finale)


Dear Doris,

So splitting the WOMEN IN TURQUOISE story is getting me into so much trouble…

So here is the final bit of the story…

Before I start, please note that I AM BROKE… at least at the time… This is a very crucial factor that you will have to keep in mind as we move!

………. Ok I can’t remember where I left off so I will just start from a random part…

Rita works on Mombasa Road and lives in Loresho. Hold my last statement as irrelevant until later on into this letter.

Its Saturday morning and I have been talking to Rita for about a week. I know so much about her I could probably pick her from a school of naked women blindfolded. Apart from her jet hair and tender and light skin and extremely seductive eyes… I also know she uses Lolita Lempicka by Lolita Lempicka and does not wear nail polish! My mother was going to like this one!

Oh, I didnt know what  Lolita Lempicka was either until i googled it! Please do the same!

I am getting ready for church… Still walking around my room in my boxers looking for my church trousers! A call comes in. My ringtone is ‘Tonight by Enrique Iglesias’ and I never pick up my phone until I hear my best part of the song, which is 5 seconds into the song. Enrique goes like, “You know I want you…. and its obvious that I want you too… now put it on me…” Yeah! Moving on!

Its Rita asking if we could meet up for cake!

Ladies and gentlemen, I have heard of coffee, food, sex, movie, blankets and wine BUT NEVER CAKE! or maybe it was a metaphor?! Read on and see…

“is arté café ok?” she asks in one of the most convincing voices I have heard this year…

“sure! what time?” I revert… “In an hour maybe?!” she says… “excellent!” I say!

My brother is in the bathroom… he showers for an hour!! I needed money! I didn’t have a single cent on me… not even sadaka!

I am doing MURD calculations in my head… I come to a figure, 300/- i have 1000/- in my MPESA and my brother gives me 2,000/- I am ready for Rita… There is a rhyme there= Ready for Rita :D

You already know from ‘DATES THAT ARE BLIND’ that I like showing up extremely early for first dates…

I am there early and I have gone through the whole cake list… My budget is round and perfect unless she will eat more than 1KG of cake… I have mastered the whole menu in 10 minutes…

She gets there 6 minutes late… Her smile, well, sugar, spice and chaptis! I love chapatis. She is in a teal sundress that hung dangerously just enough for you to glimpse at her knees. She is holding a purple clutch purse and has let her hair down in perfect waves. Her arms are naked… kissing the air around her… her cleavage nothing short of AMAZING! A pair of nice round ones… I was almost in love… She is holding a bundle of keys, a Mercedes logo on one of them brought me back to my senses.

We are seated at the patio… small talk… “you have to try this cake” she says then signals a waitress and orders for something I DIDNT SEE ON THE MENU… But all is well… 3,000/- is a loooottttt…

Ladies and gentlemen what is about to take place, I believe, happened because I skipped church to meet a woman!

My back pocket was uncomfortably empty… I had forgotten my wallet at home… or in the car.. or I DONT KNOW WHERE BUT I DIDNT HAVE IT!

I go deaf… I can only see her mouth moving… I am confused! I needed a solution!

She holds my hand and calls out my name with utmost grace… “Ian? are you ok?” she asks..

I come back to my senses… her hand still on mine… It brought an uncomfortable comfort!

“yeah… i am..” i answer…

The bill comes…. 940/= It hits me that I have MPESA. NOW HOW TO RUN TO AN MPESA, WITHDRAW, THEN COME PAY was the question… I was sweating! I pretend to be reaching for my wallet…

“Don’t!” she says in a smile’ “I got this one” she continues. I try to talk her off it knowing very well I am digging my own grave… She is persistent, I give up! She pays and I am walking her to her car…

She insists on holding my hand… i dont complain! A yellow woman like this one holding your hand in public raises street cred…

“its my mums!” she says after noticing the shock on my face when I saw  the car she came in… A CLS!

“what do you have planned for the day?” she asks…. I am still going through the 3rd stage of shock (DEAFNESS).

“ahh! Nothing…. Maybe go home and watch movies” I fumble!

“I have an idea… come over to mines. We can watch movies!” YOU ALL KNOW I COULDNT HAVE SAID NO!

That ride from Westgate to Loresho was the most comfortable ride I have heard in my life! And just so you know, Lolita Lempicka SMELLS GREAT!

The rest is blur…

 
10 Comments

Posted by on November 29, 2011 in big beautiful women, love, sex, women tales

 

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WOMEN IN TURQUOISE


Dear Doris,

I would love to see you again, but I am a soul-less, will-less automation. I wish I could sneak away to your farm a let you coddle me. You would let me put my feet on the sofa wouldn’t you?

That first paragraph is from a book I am currently reading called ‘The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society’ by Mary and Annie.

How I have missed you my love! The countless hours I spend thinking about what we could have had… The sound of blood crushing against the wall of my breaking heart! Can you hear it?

I have so much to say but so slim a time frame to tell you all about it, so please forgive me if I am switching stories now and then, I have just missed talking to you.

I’ll get to my story…

So the other day, as I was walking from the shopping centre next to my office (i am addicted to Maryland Cookies and I was there to get me a packet), I come across a VW Polo parked dangerously on the curb!! By dangerously, I mean, it was parked at the exact spot that I normally pass… I love routine!

I could taste the rage in my mouth… Then I saw two people in the car!! A heavy (also referred to as padded) yellow woman was behind the wheel… I couldn’t taste the rage anymore!

Let me describe her:

She was round! Not older than 28 and the only ring she wore was a turquoise stone on her right middle finger! Her eyes behind her half-moon turquoise glasses were nothing short of completely seductive :) She was not smiling, but from her cheek structure, I already knew she had a warm smile! Her back seat was full with books, deduction: Educated! Her hair, dark and lustrous; sat on her shoulders with the grace of a virgin gazelle! She was dressed well, showed enough skin to confuse the world…

Next to her, on the co-driver’s seat was a policeman was clearly rooting for a fat bribe!! They are all the same!

Lets call our yellow padded angel Sexy. So Sexy pulls out her purse from her bag and draws out a 1000 bob and hands it to the cop… He doesn’t take it! Sexy clearly wants whatever is going on in that car over because she reaches out for her wallet again!! All this time, I haven’t moved a muscle!

I SAW A SNIPING CHANCE AND I TOOK IT!

I walked to the car, on the passenger side and asked, in utmost modesty, “Why do you do that sir?”

Please be advised that this is probably the most stupid thing to do to get a padded woman’s attention… But this particular pada (padanoun – she who is padded) was worth it!

The cop throws a rude glance at me then steps out of the car!! He must have mistaken himself for Bauer!! He then points at me with that stick they carry around!!! A STICK!!! This man was not serious!!

“Kijana ebu endelea na safari yako!!” he spits!! I can tell he is not very educated from his face!! Theres something education does to your face… gives you a clue of some sort! THIS FOOL LOOKED CLUELESS!

I stand my ground!! Maintain my backbone!

“What you are doing is not right!” I repeat! I was in trouble anyway, I THINK!

So someone told me that if I was in trouble with the cops and I hadn’t done anything wrong, I should bring up their serial number!! I heard it scares them silly! So I did!

“I have seen your serial number and will report this!” I say. Please note that all this time my accent has changed, I am BRI ISH all of a sudden!

“kijana unakuwa mjinga” how uneducated!

I ignore the man and look inside the car, “are you ok?” I ask Sexy, who is now smiling! Had to be one of two reasons… I was either making a complete fool of myself or was doing something right!

“yes.. yes, I am!” she responds in a whisper! Clearly with intentions of not getting into trouble!

I ASSUME THE POSITION OF GREEN LANTERN! LOCAL HERO!

“Kijana nisaidie na ID yako!” Cop asks in utter arrogance!! I have never had an ID!! I have, a number actually, I just keep on losing them!

He had me and he knew it!!

“sina!” arrogance for arrogance!

“niko na miaka kumi na saba!” My BRI ISH accent long gone!

“we nenda!” He says to the woman as he signals her to go!

She ignites the car but doesn’t move, he gear shift is erect at P… This was my cue!

I rush to her window with no plan in mind! For all I know, I was going to say, “don’t talk to strangers” that’s what I always say!

I take out a business card from my wallet and a pen from my jacket!

I jot on the back of my business card…

you look beautiful in turquoise  ;)

“don’t talk yo strangers…” I say and hand her the card!!

YOU HAVE TO READ WHAT COMES AFTER THIS…  YES THERE IS A FOLLOW UP STORY!

 
18 Comments

Posted by on October 6, 2011 in big beautiful women, love

 

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DIVORCEE


Dear Doris,

I was not going to write today…

Its been hard since you left, i barely eat… or do anything else! I am home by 5pm and out before sunrise. I get extremely hungry… Thing is I am not sure whether its hunger for you or food… It can’t possibly a food issue…

This letter is not to ask you to stay… I only ask of you to think about it. If your happiness lies beyond what we could have then please go… I would be even more sad if I was the cause of your unhappiness…

How are our children? I saw Arianna in yesterdays paper. An athlete that one. You have done a great job with them. I wouldn’t have asked for another woman to mother my own.

I am well, I try to ignore the cold as much as possible.

I still have the book I wrote you letters on. It’s almost full now, so I write much less than I used to. But I still write, about you, about us… about our children.

I have told you before I have no clue on how to let go… but from the divorce papers you sent… Looks like I will have to learn how to.

I am discussing with my lawyer on how we will work with the kids. I want them to stay with you because honestly… I wouldn’t be able to raise them as well as you have.  I will have them during the holidays. But I will always be there. Every step of the way.

The pictures have nothing to do with what this letter is about… They are my high school pictures. I have been telling you about my school… I like the way you laughed when i did… So i decided to have a few pictures in the envelope. Laugh away… My heart will  light up, ignoring the distance between us.

If doubting what I have for you is whats pushing you away, I confirm that what I have for you… will always be here waiting for you.

p.s – just to make you laugh… Look at the last picture, the girl at the top right corner is fiddling with her behind :)

I love you Doris…

 

 
12 Comments

Posted by on August 3, 2011 in barding tales, love

 

UNDERWARE RECORDS


Dear Doris,

So I was on TV this morning… Baby I need you to calm down… Yes, I too was excited but you have to relax… Let me finish my story…

I was on TV (KTN UNRISE LIVE) with my boy Jaq, this one @le_Cleric talking about THE BOGOF, some event we do together… But thats not the story… So I was pretty excited, wore my best pair of shoes… One of the many pairs I bought WHEN I WAS IN THE UK… Ok maybe it was the only pair I got… I also wore my lucky boxers… I have had them for 5 years, I have worn them 6 times though… They look newer than the rest of the pack… I SWEAR!

First time I wore them was the morning I went for a job Interview at EABL… I GOT IT…

The second time was when I was going to quit the same job… IT WENT GREAT…

ok, this is a sketch of the chic at KTN (YELLOW YELLOW HEAVY HEAVY)

ok, this is a sketch of the chic at KTN (YELLOW YELLOW HEAVY HEAVY)

The third was when I was asking Adhiambo* out… I had been planning this moment from primary school… SHE SAID YES!!

The fourth time was a random night I broke the door to my aunt’s new car… AS IN IT FELL OFF after ramming

into a pillar… SHE WAS PROUD OF ME FOR TAKING CHARGE ( i was rushing my cousin to hospital) and the fifth was the night I quit drinking… I ran over some guy on Waiyaki way, I was kite high… HE LIVED! and the sixth… well, today! The interview went well! By well I mean the camera chic was YELLOW YELLOW HEAVY HEAVY! Well, I will hold on to this bit until Monday. They are by Nickelodeon (the boxers), bright orange with Scooby Doo’s face at the back…

I am very serious by the way!

Moving on swiftly…

So I have been on TV 3 times… You are looking at me like you have topped that… YOU NEED TO CALM

DOWN!!!

The first time; I am not sure about this one; was when my dad died and the media was all over the place!! I decided I appeared on TV. I was 9 and I needed this information for school… The appearing on TV part!! No single soul believed me… I DIDNT EVEN HAVE A BICYCLE, THERE WAS NO CHANCE I WOULD HAVE BEEN ON TV… That was their argument! Only Shyrose believed me… My then soulmate… I mean Indian soulmate! But I think she was just trying to keep me… I was a catch. I mean, I am a catch!! A scout!! BOY IN UNIFORM!! hahahaha!! Plus I would have dumped her ass if she, for any reason decided she didnt see me on

TV…

Moving on…

The second time was quite tragic… I was caught in the cross-hairs! I had one to town after being warned by my mother not to!! The hawkers all over Nairobi were fighting with the GSU. GSU are not very friendly people… Rubber bullets and tear gas canisters were flying left and right!! SO MY MATATUS FOR GOING BACK HOME WERE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET (read as, where the GSU guys were).

My brain drifted into overdrive… “i am no hawker, they will not do shit to me!” I thought as I majestically walked

TO THE OTHER SIDE!! I WAS MADDD!!!

To make this short… A ear gas canister was shot at me!! IT HIT MY BACK LIKE A TONE OF ANYTHING YOU CONSIDER HEAVY!! I ran across town screaming like a girl!!

I made the 7 O’clock news headlines!! This was after lying to my mother that  I was asleep the whole day!!

 
 

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WHAT A COVER CAN SAY


Dear Doris,

I was thinking! Who came up with the line, ‘DONT JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER’?

If you are not allowed to judge a book by its cover, then WHAT IS THE COVER FOR!??

You can tell most of the story from the cover… If the cover says ‘PRIMARY MATHS’ You definitely know what the book is about and shouldnt open it!! Maybe I am not looking at this with the depth it deserves to be looked at!!

Let me dig deeper!

You already know this ‘teaches’ us not to prejudge people by its outward appearance alone…

Here is how I see it…

When I meet a woman, I can almost tell the kind of person she is by what she is wearing, her size, her eyes, her handbag, her teeth, her dress… Jewelry etc If you don’t judge that book by its cover, you might end up with a trick! If that woman’s waits is the size of your thumb and she has on boots that go up till her thigh and clothes that can’t cover a doll… Shes probably not the woman for you… and you should proceed with caution! Then again she might be the kindest woman in the world and holds a masters in aeronautical engineering.. Just maybe! But if she’s not, you are ready!

Look at love at first sight, if it does exist… THAT IS TOTALLY JUDGING THE BOOK BY THE COVER!!

I have realized I don’t know what I am saying!! I am contradicting myself!

Restarting train of thought…

I guess what I am trying to say is… What am I trying to say!?

I am an artist, I work for a publishing firm, Storymoja Africa, one of the things I do is design covers, some guy somewhere saying you can’t judge a book by its cover is trying to have me jobless!

I design covers from the story… People might interpret it differently… It’s not like God fitted us with the same brain…

Judge that book by the cover, just use the body to confirm… Sometimes the cover gives you what the pages cant… The cover will give you something to believe in.

One’s smile can hide a geyser  of tears… but there is hope that somewhere deep within, there is a true smile. You cannot give a fake smile unless you know how the real one looks like… Right?

Ok now I am sure I have no idea what I am talking about!

True story: This once I went to meet my cousin Abi at Dormans, and on her table was this huge purple hand-bag. It wasnt Abi’s, she doesn’t do hand-bags, it belonged to her friend who was out, looking for an Mpesa place. I told her I was going to like whoever owned that bag…

She is now my girlfriend, the lady who owned the hand-bag, and not once have I regretted my first judgement! She was everything I thought she would be…

 
9 Comments

Posted by on May 12, 2011 in big beautiful women, love, self help

 

LOST SEASON 0


Dear Doris,

My love, I know it has been ages since we last spoke! I will not lie that I have been busy… I just didn’t know what to say!

My migraines are back my angel… They are not as bad as they used to be, but they last longer!! If I am to die before I feel your touch again… I will die twice!

I was almost dying last night. A migraine and a sore throat do not go well together. It’s like you throat and your brain are itching at the same time but you can’t scratch neither! When I was finally able to sleep, at like midnight, my dad storms into our bedroom and says, in these exact words…

“Mama Ben has just passed. You people take me to the hospital…”

By you people, he means my brother Pasta and I… Mission impossible!! This man totally ignored the fact that I could die any second from this sore throat!!

We get to Nairobi Hospital ICU… There are two ladies who are on the floor crying. From what I got, they were Mama Ben’s daughters! They had lost a mother… I was balancing tears…If I had known who Mama Ben was, I would have probably cried. I cry easy, I cry every time I watch  THE NOTEBOOK or JOHNNY Q. Strange thing is, I only tear with my left eye!!

I lost my mother on a random afternoon in 1997…. Seeing those two ladies mourn brought it all back.

I was a kid, anywhere between 0 and 45 years old.

“She was sitting right here. We talked. Just yesterday…!” Ben explained, pointing at a seat.

People more than often remember the last moments spent with the departed… I can’t remember the last moments I spent with my mother. In my head, my ass was being whooped for refusing to go to school and the next there was no one to whoop my ass! I can’t remember the last thing she told me, I keep on telling myself it was’ “BLOW YOUR NOSE!” my nose was always running and my mum couldn’t stand it… Not a day passed without hearing those words! But I remember the last thing I told her…

“Get well soon…” at the time I didn’t even know what that meant, but it was supposed to help make her feel better according to my brother Tito.

Years later, I found letters my mother wrote to my aunt (her step sister). I really hated school… I drew on every page of my text books and answered “AKYA” to math sums I didn’t know the answer to. Akya is ‘I ont know’ in Luo!! or “ITHAGA” which means ‘you are disturbing me’!! It was clear Engineering wasnt going to be my field…

I still draw… I drew on my text books through high school and college… I draw during meetings… my office walls are covered in my art work, random sketches and doodles. I can’t stop!

If you knew my mother and you are reading this, you probably know by know that she was the prettiest thing in the world… And this is not one of those lines…

SHE WAS THE REALLY PRETTIEST THING IN THE WORLD!!

 
4 Comments

Posted by on May 10, 2011 in love, near death, Uncategorized

 

VICIOUS CHAIN


Dear God, Doris and Ruman,

Dear God,

We havent talked much lately… I know we wake up to chat at 5am but I am always half asleep… and you know it!!I can’t remember the last time I asked you for anything because you have been good to me. A beautiful family friends and a beautiful woman. And just now I sent money to a wrong number and you made sure that wrong number belonged to the kindest of women who sent back the whole amount and called to ask if I got it… A total stranger!!

You are a good Man.

Amen!


Dear Doris,

We have been together a long a long while now. Through thick and thin you stood by my side. Without you I wouldn’t be able to tell the world this:

Dearest Ruman,

I love you to bits. I cant imagine living my life with anyone else =)

Happy 23rd Tuesday Anniversary.

wako,

Mimi

 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 29, 2011 in love, women tales

 

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YOUR FRAME….


©Dear Doris,

My heart rests knowing I will have you forever…

This is my first letter from our new home… Its quiet here. The weather colder than our old home… The peace here is out of control. I love it here and wish you were here sitting next to me so that i could look at your beautiful frame! So that I could touch you!

I am sitting by the window, I lit a cigarette but haven’t touched it… I just watched it burn to the butt! I closed my eyes and from afar inhaled the fumes that could reach my nose… the sensation was amazing!!

If you were wondering how Doris looks like...

If you were wondering how Doris looks like...

I met a beggar this morning… Not just any random beggar, I have met this particular one on many occasions. I always give him money every time I meet him, not because I am feeling sorry for him but because I am afraid of what he is capable of doing!! His face is ragged and scar ridden. He talks loudly! He spits all over the place….

Today I didn’t have enough money though. I had a 50 bob note and I was going to use it to get home!! So I explained to the man my situation!! He got annoyed and started shouting at me!! Everyone stopped to look at me! I guess they were wondering how mean I was to be able to tick off a beggar!!

The beggar asked me where I live…

“Kileleshwa!!” I said in utter fear!! I don’t know why I didn’t lie!!

“Kileleshwa ni 30 bob!!” he spat!! “tufanye hivi, leta hio 50 nikupe 30!!!” I was lost of words!! This man was cutting a deal!! He had change!!!

I was tired and didnt want to argue, so i closed the deal!!

“strong mzito!!”, he said as he stopped another man walking the opposite direction!!!

He calls me Mzito, meaning Heavy… I like the name, makes me forget I am broke!!!

I have to go now my angel…. A delivery I have to make =)

 
4 Comments

Posted by on March 26, 2011 in comedy, love, random

 
 
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