For the lack of better things to write about

So I haven’t been doing much writing of late, well, blogwise at-least. Most of you know by now that this is supposed to be a deep blog, according to one intelligent savvykenya (i need to stop this ass kissing (metaphorical of course), maybe tomorrow), but some times i like to regale you with tales of my dull and difficult life. I do it not because i think my life is interesting, but as precursor to gaining back the mojo to write deeper things. i do it because writing, anything for that matter, is therapeutic. i do it because i’m an introvert who lacks a live crowd to share my issues, so this becomes the only forum where faceless people will give me an ear and hopefully, understanding. So i wear my heart, not on a sleeve as bikozulu, but on my fingers through which my emotions and thoughts are conveyed to you, my dear reader.

So let’s chat, me and you. let me tell you about last week, the highs and the lows. Take your shoes off, settle comfortably into the couch, I’m making you a nice cup of cocoa before we embark on this literary journey. Feels good, doesn’t it? So Monday was my birthday, my 25th birthday. I can feel some of you thinking, dude you are so young. But it doesn’t matter, it never does anyway. Human judgement is a part of life, a negligible part of life which shouldn’t matter to those who are privy to deeper truth. But today we are shying away from depth, let’s keep this conversation simple and shallow. i usually love Mondays and expected this to be one of those better ones. This is because Monday evenings i get to hang with the whole crew at entyce where we chat and partake of the happy hour beer, retailing at 110. But this particular Monday, my birthday, only one peep showed up for the meet. On his defense, one jayNjoro, whom i met outside the place was sick and was being rushed to hospital, bummer. So on my bday, i chilled with this one pal for an hour or so and went home. Such is not a reason to sulk, all my birthdays have been boring affairs, at least the one i even remembered to acknowledge. Most simply passed me by stealthily, unseen, unfelt and unremembered. A milestone witnessed by a single person, celebrated by none, and witnessed by faceless people in a kingdom known as facebook.

Enter Tuesday, boring Tuesday. Nothing special about the morning, just some work as i hungrily wolf down my breakfast. Later i make my way to town, on a double m- I love this buses. i hook up with a pal and together we walk to japan embassy Upper hill where we take karate lessons. Needless to say the sensei pushes us to breaking point, i need to get me a new hobby. But this ladies at the class need to either get loose uniforms or smaller behinds, one doesn’t need all this distractions when executing some dangerous moves. One of this days a guy will chop someone’s neck too hard while distracted by “bendovering” karateka chic. On a second thought, i wasn’t aware bootylicious chics could practice martial arts, hehe, best class i’v ever being to. Hope they don’t quit, I still have to charm this hot chic so she can be dropping me in town, or at the estate. Wait, maybe her estate would be better, just saying. But no such luck today, and walking back it will be today. This dude at city market weighs for me some pork but refuses to chop it for me with the curt reply “masaa ya kukata imeisha.” I told the nigger he can take it to his cat, bastard looks menacingly at me and I’m hoping he’ll step out and make my day. Too bad the nigger turns out to be a sissy and I’m left to go look for a new supper, maybe i should hunt his cat.

Come Wednesday, nothing interesting happens today, save for breaking up with my girlfriend.

Thursday is always a day i love. Breakfast as usual. Don’t feel like working so i procrastinate to tomorrow, I’ll curse that when its time to pay the bills. Karate lessons as usual in the afternoon. needless to say, the bootylicious mamas are still there in plenty. Today I make some small steps towards that “soon to be drop me home lady.” But today, citi hoppa seems to be the mode of choice. I find my exhausted self on a mat to Ronga with my destination being the wild acacia camp. The place is kinda dull today so after a beer, its back home for an early night. early because its 11 and i never get to bed before 3 am.

Friday, ohhh lovely lovely Friday. For you i will sing praises, songs of happiness and glee. poetry is insufficient to describe the happiness you bring to a weary people, a chance to let go and unburden. To drink themselves silly and find themselves friends to help them make a fool of themselves, without care or worry. But before all that i had to complete some work, remember my Wednesday procrastination? Well, it had come back to bite me in the ass. so i made my way to town by 5 pm, looking and feeling like a million bucks. The only thing missing, ironically, was the million bucks.  i link up with this two buddies and escort them to their stage, where we get served very nice coffee, by the street vendors. Enter scratch to have one bavaria, but the place is full as always and i chuck unceremoniously. i find myself at betty’s, not because i love the place, but because it is the only other club i know where they serve bavaria 8.6. Lucky for me i meet this lady, waiting for her friends, who keep me company with very interesting conversations. Lady is lovely and i’m trying so hard not to stare at that beautiful cleavage. Boyfriend decides to do a re appearing act and the sweet lady asks me nicely to give her my number. needless to say the guy isn’t happy to find the girlfriend looking all cozy with me, and proceeds to give that look from Lily of the How i met your mother sitcom. yeah, the you are dead to me look which is supposed to vaporize me. Nigga please, I’ve been threatened by tough soldiers before for beating one of their own, your eyes don’t move me shit. So, when its time to leave, the lady reminds me that I have her number and i better call, din’t stay long enough to know what went down after i left.

Forgot to say that the reason i left was because another pal of mine, karen had tweeted me asking me to go say hi at psys tao. So i do that, the place aint half bad but we don’t stay but decide to head to Galileos for some shake leggy. being the all knowing alcohol guru, i take these two ladies to the entrance of scracth club where they sell all those nice tots at 60 bob. Several shots later, a cab to Galileos and i had missed the place. even the bouncer is complaining that i’m way too lost, if only the guy knew how expensive life was nowadays to heng at such expensive joints any more. My pals spent most of the night at the floor and I ended up chilaxing with this white dude who had one sexy ass lady. But despite the colour, this guy is a typical kenyan man with the ex syndrome. In other words, dude says the girlfriend is out of town and this particular lady was the ex and he couldn’t help himself but partake of the ex’s honey, all pun intended. Of course i had to go wild when the dj went rock and din’t i have fun.

Saturday and Sunday were a no show and i spent them watching movies at my crib. see gang, just a typical boring week in the shoes of one peter Evans.


10 responses to “For the lack of better things to write about

  1. Your life is interesting compared to mine! I like the part where you say, nothing much happened except breaking up with my girlfriend. Nothing much, huh? reaking up with my girlfriend. Nothing much, huh?

    • come on, ur life must be interesting too. as for breaking up with her, whining wont change anything so life must go on, so many fish on the sea, just saying

  2. Happy belated birthday to you…and yes, you’re bloody young 🙂

    PS: Your day-to-day life is interesting. What exactly do you do for a living? If you don’t mind my asking

    • young ha? isn’t that what we all wish for at some point? i get asked that question so may times, and my answers are usually diverse. some i tell im unemployed, others i ma watch man, still others im a thief…professionally i write stuffs. u?

      • …write stuffs…I like the vagueness of that. Reminds me of the Samsung ‘just imagine’ commercials 🙂 I’m a safaris consultant…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s