Someone named Nyambura commented on the last part and wondered just how a broke person has so much fan, to tell the truth, I wonder so too. Anyway, to answer a part of your question, daughter of mumbi, is the simple fact that i always live beyond my means. Some great man at some unspecified period in time once said ” he who lives within his means suffers from a lack of imagination.” So Ive put it out there, this writer putting words to this piece lives beyond his means, a higher beyond. But that is not the purpose of this article and neither do i wish to burden you with senseless information. This blog is about my weekend, and lectures did not constitute any part of it.
so Saturday turned out to be Saturday, a day to heng with friends and have some fun. for lets face it, what is better than spending a whole afternoon watching ball and taking liquor in the company of several pals. But i wasn’t going anywhere today before doing my body some justice, and hence a small session of rigorous exercise. Of late people have been saying just how big Ive got with many suggesting that I must have hit the gym hard. On the contrary, my body seems to just grow, my muscles stretching a little everyday. Its curious the way women tend to notice your looks when you have a small body and the most complements that you get is that of cuteness. Cute, for a man, that in my opinion amounts to mockery of masculinity…and rather be told that I’m rugged and hard as compared to cute. So anyway at least the women now tend to notice my body more, and i get more complements like “you have such a nice body,” or “damn (while she touches my chest, or bicep) your body is so hot. I can swear sometimes you can see the lust in a woman’s eyes, hehe, stay away; this body is not for everyone.
Forgive me for digressing from the topic, but its impossible not to do so when writing tempts your sense of freedom. My sister tends to go on strike sometimes and leaves home early which translates to no lunch for us. So after a shower, I head out to banana town for some delicious pork at my favorite swine joint. Now I love many things in this life but few things can rival, or even be mentioned on a similar sentence with pork. Once arsenal fc had been at a par, but the last few years have eroded that love and swine sits on a throne unrivaled. So I have to admit that taking that half kg of pork with humongous ugali cheered me up beyond measure and i was literary bouncing as i headed to pick a mat to the Village market.
The first thing i always do when i reach the village market is to head to the silverbird theater to pick a movie guide and peep inside the pool hall for any worthy opponent. So having failed to see anyone worthy to challenge my pool skill i headed to the food court where i was going to meet my pals. I passed by prime cuts and ordered a tusker and settled down on one of this high tables outside German point. Now the village market food court is a nice place to heng, the open air setting quite to my taste. the only shortcoming is the fact that there is only one restaurant with a tv, and needles to say one has to be early to secure a convenient place. I think I should write a heartfelt letter to the management of the village market to donate a tv screen to all the restaurants in the court.
My pals arrive later and we have a great time chatting about everything and nothing. I’m talking with my friends and i remember this time back, at spree club, my pal grace ordered a big Guinness as compared with my order for sweet white wine. The waiter delivers the order but proceeds to assign the wine to her and the Guinness to me. Shock on him when we told him that he’d made a mistake and the Guinness was hers, he looked at me with that questioning look full of wonder. The only disappointment was the fact that those white fools decided to watch the man u game and i was eagerly waiting to see the gunners gun down wigan, and we nearly started chanting our favorite slogans “haki yetu, weka game ya arsenal, haki yetu.” I hope, dear reader, that your afternoon was just as nice if not better.
Sunday, the Lord’s day and I fail to make to church for the fifth week in a row. My dad asks in a mocking tone, what it is that is so important that i don’t have time for the Lord. now i love my dad but i think he needs to be reprimanded for plagiarism, since it was my mom”s custom to ask those questions. needless to point out that Iv woken up at 10 am, I’m sure most of you woke up later; much later. I settle comfortably on my comp and work on one of the short stories that I’m working on, an interesting idea planted by a drunk pal. Lunch reaches fast and since i’m very broke as i pointed out in the last post, I wait for my sister to make some lunch.
I link up with my pals from yesterday, and together with ma pal ken head to VM; again. We meet this other pal, also named ken there, taking a fanta as usual….this guy needs to start drinking asap; this soda nonsense aint that cool especially when we in a club trying to look cool. Now My two friends, ken and ken are very different in character and i could see that their interaction wasn’t that smooth. One ken, the one we met at vm loves to joke too much, and might even be considered immature. Moreover, and i know Bikozulu is sneering here, he has this multi colored Mohawk which in my opinion is rather ugly (If you see this dude, ur ma buddy and all but i dnt like Mohawks). The other ken is a serious dude, very composed, a lawyer with price water house cooper. So later ken is wondering aloud, after some drinks, why he has to be made to heng with dudes like that?My answer, people will always be different or? please insert your opinion here, laugh laugh.
We are drinking with stories flowing merrily as we wait for my other pal soni to join us. Anyway she doesn’t make and i get an interesting sms from her complaining that her boyfriend is having guests around and shes expected to play cook and host. poor woman is hysterical and must be throwing a tantrum in the bedroom, cursing who on earth invented relationships. So i send her a text consoling her and telling her to accept her God given duty as a woman, and take care of her new family to be. Poor lady, never gets any time to heng with her pals any more and she has to devote all her time to boyfy, ahh well I’m partying enough for the two of us dear pal.
Anyway nothing eventful happens except meeting ma close cousin Sarah and her bofy, who bought us another round of drinks. Now what struck me as odd was the fact that my cousin is a born again, a true sister to Chrsit. On the other hand her boyfy and his crew, who seemed to be serious bad boys, was nursing a huge bottle of Guinness..No wonder she and her pal kept on taking walks rather that watch her love partake of this worldly sins. And as the day came to an end, i couldn’t help and appreciate the power of love..a bridge that brings together two worlds and breaks down the barriers of attitudes.