KenyanMusings

• Hard fuck, the wedding, old people, Alan, clean hands, mohawk bla bla bla.

  Posted: July 2, 2006, 5:44 pm by KenyanMusings

  Disclaimer: I have not lost my mind( yet), It is mine to give away- Robbie Williams
  
  This waiting for divine intervention is a mutha!!! Its killing me people…killing me!!.
  
  The problem with getting some is when the supply gets cut off, its quite the bytch getting back into the bilas routine.
  
  Sorta like nicotine withdrawal.
  
  Ah, but in two weeks the memory should have faded.
  
  Halafu, Nairobi is freezing, and the bilas train is freezing!! Upside to Nairobi freezing? I get to see men in sweaters. Men look too damn edible in sweaters. Yaay!!
  
  Me, I need a royal fuck. A hard fuck.
  
  I don’t care if is fuelled by anger, or tension or its just a mere hard fuck day, but I have been thinking about one.
  
  You know, the one where a man dedicates himself to fucking you royally and mercilessly hard.
  
  The one where you do not understand how your clothes came off.
  
  I don’t even want foreplay me. Foreplay is for sissies and Days of Our lives.
  
  Foreplay will be the build up of taking one look at each other.
  
  The hard fuck where you do it in a million ways.
  
  And by the time you are done, you have been fucked against the door with your legs straddling him; you have been fucked from behind, from the side, with him on top and with you on top.
  
  The hard fuck where by the time you are done, your hair has been pulled, your titties and ass squeezed, you have been spanked and flipped over from every direction.
  
  Yeah, you know that flipping when you get flipped over and he does not come out of you cos if he did you would strangle him? Yeaaahhh, that one.
  
  The kind of fuck where droplets of his sweat are falling on your body and your back…*sigh, sweat rocks!!*
  
  The kind of fuck where no one speaks because you are all concentrating on the ‘hard fuck’.
  
  No words…jus labored breathing and the only time anyone speaks is to say ‘oh damn!” when you are almost coming and you start tightening around him and he has to firmly grab you by the ass or the waist and drill deeper, push a little harder, then some more so that he can get in all the way.
  
  Ahhhh yes. The joys of a hard shag haki
  
  Hard fucks kick ass.
  
  F for Father give me strength to resist the devil and his evil stunts.
  
  Enwei (Ospone, 2006), I was just saying cos when you are on the bilas train, the devil takes over your mind and starts building nuclear bombs.
  
  Arrrrghhh! Men suck. Throw rocks at them.
  
  CLEAN THOSE PAWS
  
  Now, I was brought up by a mother who infected me with the habit of washing my hands immediately I got into the house.
  
  So I am all for clean hands me.
  
  That said, I frankly cannot stand my goodies being touched with hands that have been out there touching money, hi-fiving the boys, scratching yourself, changing tyres, shaking hands nini nini….ughhhh, yukkkkk.
  
  You want to deposit all that dirt in my holy, pristine place?
  
  Quadruple gag, no one touches, fingers, checks for oil or probes my kitty with dirty hands mimi.
  
  Even I, KM, do not do it myself before I have washed my hands.
  
  My paka is a clean, warm, happy place that does not like germs.
  
  And I am only saying this because I demand that people make a habit of cleaning their hands when they get into the house, or when we are leaving the club (cos we might detour before we get home).
  
  And if there is no water, I hook you up with a wet wipe tissue cos else, **gag**, those mikonos are so not gonna see the pearly gates to my kitten!
  
  Its common sense right? Wash hands before every meal no?
  
  THE WEDDING AND OLD PEOPLE
  
  I attended a friend's wedding on Saturday.
  
  Awwww, weddings are like so cute and all, just hope in 10 months he will not be looking kina KM in the eyes, over a beer and swearing he is not married.
  
  It was a beautiful wedding really, although it was like freezing cold, and KM and her beautiful strapless dress and "I could so rock your world right now" heels went to waste.
  
  Oh yeah, I am one of those people who attend weddings to seek out eligible ones.
  
  Don't you se it people? All the time? Those old greying coupls stuttering "w-w-we met at a mutual friends w-w-wedding"
  
  Small digression. Is it me or really, really old people look like small animals?
  Yeah, like My grandma? My Brother and I are in total agreement that she looks like she is gonna eat us.
  That idea must've been planted in my head by some movie, or my father reading "Little Red Riding Hood to me all the time!!! Ughhh.
  
  Anywhooo, back to the wedding....so, I did not see any "Mr. Rights" there but I swurr there is one coming up in August where I will come out brandishing a Mr. KM.
  
  Yeah really, I just need my brother Biggie to tell me only for the gazillionth time what it is really that Information System's Auditors do, and I am in.
  
  Then he will sit there and point me to the reallly funny ones. Like, really funny, like not the ones that go "what did the accountant say to the auditor". *rolls eyes seeing as I am not one**....errrrmmm, "Your books have errors and Frauds and do not potray a true and fair view you accountant you!!". *shrug*... I dunno. Can we kiss now? Pffft.
  
  Aaand speaking of cold weddings....brrrrr, me, mine is going to be on a sunny day.
  Help me Mahatma!! but if I'm going to sell my soul to the devil(read groom), I will go down in sunny weather.
  
  I know, I know, there is more to weddings than the sun, but its just that when I was playing 'cha mama' with Alan, out wedding was always on a sunny day.
  
  And I know that means that among my wedding planners will be "Nguatah Francis" to keep me up to date with the weather patterns and all, but ah, such is a little price to pay!! because *puts on bullshit head and assumes lotus position*, 'hummmmm, the sun symbolises the warmth that the couple will have in their lives'
  
  SO, yes, if its sad and gloomy I will stroll into the church in my jammies, with y'all wrapped up in your warm scarfs and stuff and go "you know what, cheers guys for coming but we cannot fly(read wed), in this weather so, we will call you".
  Yep! then one sunny day you will be tilling the garden and get an urgent text from KM saying "KM. Wedding NOW. Come to DC's office"
  
  ALAN
  Alan was my ka boyfee. Oh Alan!. Yeah. Like all the way till Form 2.
  All we did was kiss (no tongue!!!, oh the joy of innocent youth), until one day my mother cam and said "KM, I do not want you seeing that boy again. He is Mtoro."
  Yeah, she called him that. "mtoro". I think it means a rogue.
  Why? Because she caught him smoking with his friends kwa Shoppi(shopping centre).
  Sigh! Mummy!!!
  I blame my mum for single hood me.
  
  Anyway, I was not gonna go down like that, so I refused to listen until my Dad said "KM, could you please stop seeing that boy"...and I did because I am a horrible sucker for courtesy, like I can do anything if it is asked courteously.
  (Digression 287: A habit which I have gladly passed on to my nephew and Godchild, because you ask them to do something and not use the word "Please", they will go "password? Password" *taps self on the back*).
  
  So, yeah. The letters to and fro with Alan stopped.
  Who knows? Maybe I would be tilling the shamba now and asking ngothaless KMAlanrets to come in before the porridge cools. *Sigh, I wonder where he went*
  
  
  THE EX STROKES AND THE MOHAWK
  
  After playing hide and seek with my strokes on Saturday night, where he calls, I 'miss the call' and he texts to say he is on the way, so if I have not read this text by the time he gets to my house then it will be a pleasant(yes, he used the word pleasant) surprise, which is enough to scare me into going diplomatic and lying I am not home, I am at A’s, then he says ok, let me pick you from there….ugggghhh, then I fess up that I am not up to company....
  
  I spent the night watching movies in my blankies.
  
  Gaddamn Nairobi is cold!!! Like this is the time I should be snuggling in bed with my ex-strokes.
  
  Don’t be fooled into thinking I don’t miss the man.
  
  Oh, his mind works in an amazing way, and he has the gift of ‘the cunnulingus’, the gift of sucking tits, the gift of delivering 150% on his assignments...and what I wouldn’t give to be in his arms, sniffing him and laughing with him and having him tickle me. Ok..why am not with him again?..
  
  F for Father give me strength haki to resist his taunting texts of "Dos(sic) Kamum want her titties sucked?
  
  Bless that man because he used to spend a luxurious 5 minutes on my tits, sucking and licking and nibbling until they tosheka before moving along so give the man credit because he was one of those who take their time until you are begging and crying for it.
  
  **shakes off delusion**.
  
  Cunnulingus and sucked tits does not errr... put food on the table…..(mantra to repeat once per hour)
  
  **speaking to self now**
  
  K for Kumbuka msimamo wako KM and keep yourself of pure thought because before you are 60 you will find the one who does not rush you, or ask you what you feel or tell you he does not need pressure for accountability because, you are a good girl KM despite everything, and he will be so so funny and intelligent and his strokes will be the best a 60 year old woman can ask for.
  
  (KM half runs, half skips, half gallops from left to right side of stage doing a rendition that the drama teacher showed her "Romeo, where art thou my Romeo" with hand on forehead to symbolise 'looking into horizon").
  
  So sema Ngweee Kamum, Sema ngwee.
  KM: Ngwee.
  
  **ends motivational speech to self**
  
  Anyway, it got so bad, I ended up watching a twaff twaff dush nyiao movie (Chinese action flicks), the one where the people get into the battle field, and they doing somersaults although saa hizo, **rolls eyes**, no one is bothering with them.
  
  So, in this one, there were these two guys who are enemies, and one of them, to provoke the other into action, takes the enemy’s son and gives him…get this,...a Mohawk.
  
  No really, he does not harm the boy, or hold him for ransom.
  
  Nope. He just shaved his head like Beckham was shaven in some (insert football cup).
  
  Yeah. Just that. Just the Mohawk.
  
  I was thinking maybe that is how its done in Taipei.
  
  You know how in primary school people would draw a line and go ‘pita hiyo uone”, in Taipei, just give the kid a Mohawk.
  
  I was thinking that would have been super cool if the guy gave the daughter a Mohawk…cos that woulda been funnier and more badass, a girl with a Mohawk, if they were trying to make jokes….but, yeah well, different strokes for different folks.
  
  Keep your children away from me if you know what’s good for their hair!!!
  
  AOB, WHAT PEOPLE DO AT MEETUPS
  Theeeen, I had his conversation with my girls.
  
  F: Si you guys we go somehwere next weekend
  
  KM: I'm not sure, I may have a meetup
  
  A(I dragged her to one): Again??
  
  KM: Yeah
  
  F: Meetup like for that 'other weird life you have besides us?
  
  KM: Its not weird....
  
  F: Is it members only?
  
  A: (she is the all knowing, all knocking bloggers kind): Its just weird. They sit there and call each other by funny names. Its like a swinging club or something.
  
  Yeah. Thats my friends.
  Great! They think I'm swinging now.
  They think I'm weird now.
  They think we call each other by funny names.
  
  Be safe. Glove up y'all who are laid.
  
  **KM hops back on the bilas Starlet (yeah, the train was too big and uneconomical for 'Tato and I, plus 'Tato cant drive a train so I'm having to do all the driving) cos really, she had only stopped to buy a Raymond’s blanket, but there is really no rush since she is the driver, so she can stop anytime for supplies while Tato is sleeping in the back**

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes