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Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

• June 22, 2009
• 5:31

  safari SHAVENS - Day One

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  safari SHAVENS (Shorties looked so HeAVENly eiSh) – Day One
  Got to love them, love them, love them! Haven’t missed them in 10 years. Even flew back to Nai from Jozi for 7s 2005. Took a week off for R&R, catching up with the fiancée and 7s hehehehe.
  Man-One and Talin are in SA for the Confed Cup. Seems like they’ve done really well for themselves designing those pit latrines given they holidayed in Dubai less than a month back and both have bought new cars recently. Hmmmmm…. Guess ill be needing other company for 7s.
  My Sistoh Ohhhh!
  Anyway, Pounding Father (PF) calls me up asking whats the deal. We meet at Junction where we leave our rides and head off to Quins by taxi. Jayzas the queue is long! Anaconda-like long with more twists and turns than an Agatha Christie whodunit. Luckily my sis is there already and has a pal in the queue. I have a complimentary courtesy of my EABL classmate (who I have the hots for lakini she’s engaged) but PF needs to buy a ticket. My sis’ pal Voluptua Vizuri (VV) is there too with her other friend Pweety Pigmy (PP). VV is looking rather fetching in her combat outfit accentuating those curves. PP is also hot lkaini vile height is a challenge her msuri round ass is so low she looks like a Bunsen burner. Anyway, lack of height aint a problem if you indulge horizontally. Amewekewa “Wanted”. Sis gets PF tickets and in we go. Suspect one of the Askaris is a SideB vile he seems to be enjoying frisking jamaas a little too much!!!
  Galitos Lays Down the Law
  Inside we are greeted by some super-moto chiles in Cop outfits twololo I almost run towards them hands outstretched handcuff-style *Arrest me. Arrest me!* 7 years hard labour bila parole. Do me I do you er.. I mean, throw the book at me (preferably the Karma Sutra). The air is charged with passion and excitement. There are seriously hot mamisos in the joint (and bad ones too…) We catch Kenya sorting some miserable offenders on the pitch and then proceed to the Village. Walahi there is talent in Nairobi. Wameumbwa wakaumbika I unleash an Mbwa Mwitu howl…
  Reminisce
  I see former-fiancee Tawida and some other gal walking in. Gai she’s ivad vibaya. Yaani she was drop-dead gorgeous when I was with her lakini miracle of all miracles she looks so much hotter now. She flashes me that killer smile that used to take my breath away. Theres a distant, fleeting feeling of womuti (warmth) lakini it passes. Yenyewe Im over her. She comes and hugs me and is off after some polite banter.
  Supulicious
  Who’s that, Henny’s neice. Yeloyelo (YY) hot like fire, ur my desire, atiyatiya!! Tanktop, low rider jeans salale! Ame-wax so pay tax! She comes and gives my one of those tight hugs pressing her youthful pointed gazongas against my chest. I mutter under my breath, "Down simba, down." Naetin! Glad I have my tight ngothas and jeans on, so bulge is camouflaged… PF is turning green with envy. YY shrugs and gives him a limp handshake and before u know it her phone is ringing and she’s off bila goodbye. Aish, ma-youth watatumaliza! Lakini I notice she’s sagged low rider jeans na thong pia from behind. CRACKs me up I tell you!
  PF is on Vodo and Wodo on the rocks. Soon he is stopping each and every mro that passes by. I pull my hyena move: wait for him to be successful with prey and then dash in for a huge bite off the buttock which I rush off to munch on, at a distant hidden corner :-)
  The AfterParty
  By now the Tusker Cans are having their way with me so we decide to vacate the premises having watched Kenya pulverise some other miserable offenders in the last match of the day. Next stop, Wendys/Maggys/Marys??? Some joint opposite Tacos in tao near Corner House. It has a chick’s name sijui Betty’s. Wathii wa Esssaaayyyide Eastlandoh inna de yard. Amazes me how many hot mamisos Eastlands produces. Gai they are looking nyummy! Half a beer as we indulge in eyecandy halafu its off to the Republic.
  Im waiting for PF who dashed out to call his CFA (music is deafening). Two mzhum-zhums ask if they can join me at my table. Wuwi lambs to the slaughter. I indulge them. Pull the usual: indulge the less fly one in mob convo and sparingly talk to the fly one with loads of compliments with disclaimers (e.g.  my, you look hot though you also kinda look underage). Two drinks later wako readdyyy!!! Lakini ati one wants me to confirm I have stamina vile they don’t deal unless guaranteed they’ll get theirs. Wuwi ma-youth watatumaliza!!
  So I ask for the kind of edivence (LOL) they want. One goes like si its dark in here so I can kagua mambos under the table we see if youre operating toothpick and/or ull mwaga ovyo (in not so many words). Shameless! But I like. And my fone is ringing off the hook. “Nani mwenzangu?” Its DeeDee. Now, DeeDee is girlfriend/wifey material. She’s a ka-long term investment and she’s looking for a polite drink with me as she’s just malizad watching an album launch at Tapas, Village Market. Sophisticated with intelligent conversation the works. Im weighing a ka3some hapa kiplanni vs deep vibe then home alone. I decide to go with… yeah… to be continued.
• June 09, 2009
• 1:05

  strawBELLY

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  beauty  

  strawBELLY (BEauty ako reaLLY down)

  The other day we decided to have a few cold ones at Twamasha (hehehe – it seems this twitter talk is messing me up). Oh, you need to follow me here ----> [twitter.com] sawa? Anyway, so we decide to have a few cold ones on a Sunday evening at Tamasha as the jazz there is really tight! It’s me, Henny and ChairmanM. Having been recently through the dryer with Ching Ching Part 1, I am totally engrossed in my Tusker and the music. On that day, ChairmanM is surprisingly nil by mouth, very unlike him. I suspect his estranged wife is still giving him problems. Henny however is on the prowl! Now, it’s a known fact that whenever a hunter wanders off into the forest in search of prey, it pays to carry along with him a dead dik-dik. That way, if his efforts are fruitless, all he needs to do is to unleash his knife and start sawing away at the dik-dik, his meal guaranteed. Henny always refuses to heed this advice, 99.9999% of the time to his peril.

  
  

  Pewa Mdongera (PM)

  So there’s that ka-doorway from the inside of Tamasha to the outside section with the tum-small car park. The car park where the watchie behaves like those air-hostesses of first class. The ones who swing down the aisle amidst longing looks from economy passengers. They fika the boundary of first class and economy, look at economy guys like miserable offenders and then contemptuously draw the curtain shut, nzwwwiiiiiiip, condemning u to the misery of your economy seat. Yup, that ka-watchie does the same with the gate. The guy infront of you is opened for wide so that his AMG can glide into the parking. As u follow behind with your ka-battered Toyota, nzwwwiiiip, gate shut “Boss, kumejaa.” Aaaaargh!!!

  
  

  But back to the point. The doorway between the inside and the outside area slash carpark is called Pewa Mdongera (PM) cause the chicks looking for loaded guys like to pose around there. Sure enough theres a PM over there looking sizzling wuwi! Sizzle ma-Nizzle!! Five foot 7ish, silky smooth skin, light colour, flat belly readily apparent from tight t-shirt, curvy backside in stark contrast to aforesaid belly. Curves emphasized more by the tight fitting jeans and high heels. Wuwi hata me I saw her, died and went into a state of nirvana!

  
  

  Jisunde ChapChap (JCC)

  So Henny does the usual. Approaches the gal and tells her ChairmanM would like to talk to her but is kinda shy. PM looks at ChairmanM those ones of “Kwani what kind of coward sends his pal?”. She then looks at Henny those ones of “At least this one is man enough to step up to me himself”. Henny is ndani and soon has the digits.

  Two weeks later Im asking Henny how things are going and he’s like he calls her sometimes lakini she’s always giving excuses. Another two weeks later, same story. So Im like “Gimme the digits” and he obliges. So I call her up manwar-style and we have an interesting 15min convo. Seems gals like a guy who is interested but not really interested. Down but not really down. Cant understand them but hey, she agrees to a date.

  
  

  Saidieko Straw (SS)

  So the gal shows up at…. Wait for it…. The Republic aka Kichinjio LOL! I see she’s brought back-up but after a few minutes chit-chat backup is dismissed. Hmmm, seems things will be woop woof! But…. She orders for a Tusker, a glass and a straw. Surely, at my ka-local, in full view of kila-mtu-everyone! Halafu, that ka-hairstyle. Tum-lines with a weird side weave thingy/patch/thingabob. Looks like a giant housefly buzzing next to her ear. Infact, I see some cobwebs huko near the ceiling and almost want to grab her by the legs and use the thingy to clean the webs…

  We are chit-chatting and having a ball but my eyes keep getting drawn to that hair-thingy, in some hypnotic Indian fakir “you-are-under-my-spell” kind of way. Aaargh!

  Needless to say, the night ends abruptly that day.

  
  

  Nakumatt Approach (NA)

  So I get a call from the chick a few days later: “Milo swty. How u? Imagine ur not a gentleman” So Im wondering wassup but not info forthcoming. Eventually she’s like: “By the way, I just finished my shopping at Nakumatt. Si u come pay my bill?” I inform her that Im fine given my Uchumi shopping was done the day before. She hangs up the phone:))

  
• May 27, 2009
• 18:21

  CIAO?

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  gal  

  Can I Actually move On?
  
  *Strict warning that this isnt one of my usual teeheehee posts. If ur expecting that stop reading now!!!*
  
  Yup! Guess so. Simply delete the number and all other evidence a la my good friend Archer (call log, texts etc). Works like a miracle because the drama queen always causes when I dont text or call back but she specializes in the same.
  
  Wont lie that she wasnt special to me. Wont lie that Im kinda hurting. But Ive been there be4 and know that now's the time to run!!
  
  Subject
  
  My nusu Rwandese Gal. Knew it was too early to call it and calling it would jinx it. Yup, it did! Mixed feelings coz she was getting me to do things I hadnt done in years and that scared me. Ive grown to be wary of missing someone Im not sure is missing me back. Thinking about someone Im not sure is thinking about me. Warm Tusker (er... hate that period, not wary of it).
  
  Body
  
  So she was like a few months out of a relationship. Knew there was danger but soldiered on. Had been enjoying my single life till she came and messed it all up. The biggest blessing in all this is that she had a situation where she had to make a choice and at the end of it Id know either way. Went to meet her today. My immediate former failure to reply texts and calls had elicited her rage.Thought it was a good sign. Shock on me!
  
  Cool and calm like a Nameless cucumber (shoshomba) she tells me that she's back with her ex. Ati she gave me many chances that I didnt take. As she started to enumerate them I cut her short and told her that when Nadal loses to Federer, last thing he wants to hear from the umpire is the reasons why he lost (in not so many words).
  
  Thank goodness Barca hammered ManU. The disappointments tonight would have been unbearable...
  
  So can I? Yup. Will take me some time but yup! :)
• May 22, 2009
• 0:51

  CHING CHING (Part 1)

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  trouble  

  st1:*{behavior:url(#default#ieooui) }

  CHIck’s got to be jokiNG, CHIck’s got to be smokiNG

  
  

  Being single in Nairobi rocks!!! I must say Nairobi has nice ladies: fun, hot, exciting, mysterious etc. But it has its fair share of bad ones too. Take for example:

  Mama-Makaa

  Some time last year we were hanging out at our usual spot at the Republic. Upstairs with beer flowing. In attendance were Man-One, the The-The, ChifB AKA Pounding Father of the Nation, ChairmanM AKA Sexy Gates, Henny and Milo. Man-One was stressing the need for a chick’s soundtrack to accompany the Lungula activity which he fondly refers to as Nyung’unyaing. Now, its been rumoured that Man-One is fully equipped to the extent that he has been nicknamed Dangling Fury, Mjoloba Business and Mizigo amongst other names by his former clients. So he was describing his escapades with a village gal the last time he was in shags. The part that got us was the soundtrack once the activities had began:

  • Man-One: *Grunts, Huffs, Puffs*
  • Villager: *at the top of her shrill voice* “Monster! Farasi! Dume!
  • Man-One: *mixed sounds of neighing, braying and mooing*
  • Villager: “Destroy me! Finish me! Murder me!”

  
  

  This has all us boys laughing our heads off to the extent Henny falls over and spills the cocktail of the gal at the next table. But Henny is a Kamikaze, king of suicides. Within minutes he is indulging the gal in convo and she invites him to join her as she awaits her pal. Given my knowledge that Henny is also a pace-setter (starts way ahead of the pack and never finishes the race), I give him the signal and he gets me to join them at the table. The rest of the crew look at us the very same way guys of Sohos downstairs look at guys of Sohos upstairs (a look of severe longing). The next item in the agenda is the pairing. Henny is having some beef because the current gal (hereafter called Squeezy) is hot but she claims that her pal is hotter. Now, whenever a gal says that, expect her pal to be a Dikwonkwo on the Ngwound (Archer, 2006). Given his dilly dallying I decide to take the bold step and start squeezing in my points. A few minutes later Henny’s face really brightens up. The gal that joins us is smoking hot! My Goinoka, molten lava fresh from the volcano, that gal is hot! I kick myself internally but what the heck. Win some, lose some. New gal is introduced as Mama-Makaa (MM). How appropriate given that she’s smoking hot but also that she smokes like a chimney. So MM starts up complaining about the joint, the service and everything under the sun. I laugh internally. Henny winces and his shoulders start to hunch. He is in for a long night.

  Anyways, as (mis)fortune would have it, by the end of the night MM and Milo have hit it off, Henny and Squeezy are rapidly proceeding towards destination LJBF (Lets Just Be Friends). Numbers are exchanged and a future date with MM is set.

  Hell Date

  First, she comes late. This in the midst of several texts sijui “10 mins away”, “almost thea Swty” blah blah. Milo’s getting worked up but in usual guy-fashion I remember how hot she is and cool down. Then, she shows up with a pal!!!!! (Lets call the pal TAC ie Three’s a crowd). Now, I have no beef with a gal bringing a pal along so long as I have advance warning so I can also bring back-up. I control myself. “Imagine Sweetie my pal had to come along because her boyfie is held up somewhere. He’ll soon come over to pick her.” So I think to myself “Ok, Ok. At least she recognises that it's our date and not a gathering.” I hit the “patience pays” button a chillax entertaining the gals. Before long MM is stroking my arm, leaning over and resting her head on my chest, running her fingers through my hair er… on my clean-shaven scalp LOL! But that’s the calm before the storm! Yaani when TAC’s boyfie checks in even the temperature in the club changes. Monsoon winds seem to be blowing. The guy is the size of Papa Bouba Diop (PBD)! Halafu, my date MM is the one jumping all over him. How now? Now why? Then… Instead of picking TAC and bouncing, dude enskwonces (Archer again) himself comfortably with us, no hurry in Africa. Next thing, MM disappears and so does PBD. Im left there vybin TAC. I head to the loo and bump into them on the way. MM is busy doing the Tootsie Roll on PBD. Assi! My big mouth gets me in trouble as I let my erm reservations be known. PBD gets mad and approaches Milo menacingly. Before he can rearrange me my bouncer pals are on him. He is politely evicted from the club. TAC has to follow and of course MM follows them but not before giving me a severe tongue lashing. Whateva!

  Lie Low Like an Envelope

  So I don’t call for like a month or so. Works like a charm cause when I send a tentative text the reply is “Av not forgiven u but you’re lucky m still talking to you”. Ching ching! This time round the date goes well and chicka ingias bosk! So we have an interesting time together over the next month or so until the texts start.

  1. “Babes we’ve not done something nice in a while. I suggest we do dinner”. She shows up for dinner with two of her pals.
  2. “Boo, please join me for a drink after class? Av misd u.” Find her with a bill for herself and her pal from the past 3 hours of drinking.
  3. “Milo, Swty, Imajin m sooo broke. Si u do something?”. I write back “Ok Babes, I sympathize”. MM sends an angry reply “Not that!! M talking Benjamins here!” Ok. Now who is Benjamin? LOL! I write back explaining that I’m not her father to be sending pocket money. Silence…

  She shows up at my local in the arms of another man the next weekend.

  Na bado…

  
• May 17, 2009
• 16:28

  SAUTE potatoes

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  back  

  Sweet And Unusually Tasty English potatoes
  
  Been a year and two months since I last blogged. My blog mojo death began as soon as I landed at JKIA from Jozi and rediscovered why I love Nairobi regardless.
  
  I have peculiar eating habits. I had spaghetti for breakfast, a sumptuous Ugali lunch and I've just finished consuming some delicious chicken kienyeji with Saute(d) potatoes. Where I got the will and energy to cook at this ungodly hour I'd be at pains to explain...
  
  Anyway, I wonder why I decided to blog today? Lets see:
  

  • Could be that my company has landed its biggest contract to date and I'm over the moon... OR
  • Maybe its this half-Rwandese gal that's got me at sixes and sevens about what I feel
    

  Either way, I feel I'm at crossroads and need an avenue to vent/release/talk to myself.
  
  A lot has happened since I got back in 2006:
  

  • I finally got over my galfriend of 5 years (fiance of the last of those years). We are now friends. Took me a year of avoiding her to get there but gladly that worked out swell.
  • Met a one-in-a-lifetime type of gal. Totally messed up on that one and still trying to mend fences enough to be friends. She's one of those keepers even if it's just simply as friends.
  • Got hired in one of those blue-chip companies as part of senior management. Got fired soon thereafter for being "a genius that refused to be tamed" KM, 2009.
  • Back in school doing my MBA. Love it, love it, love it!!! A year and a half down the line and the effects are amazing. And the contracts I've been able to land, eish!!!
  • Then there's my half-Rwandese gal. A bit too early to make a call on that one but boy, oh boy, Im in for an interesting ride. Lets see how that goes.

  Anyway, let me organize my thoughts and address the above (and much more) as a series of posts. Lets hope the mojo survives long enough for me to do exactly that.
• March 05, 2008
• 6:07

  Archer asked for “STAMINA”

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  me  

  Archer asked for “Six Things About Milo IN A tag”
  I usually hate rules so I won’t post them or tag anyone else.
  I’d rather bring up stuff that happened in 2007-2008. So here are my six “Me I Ps”:
  Me I:
  PIMP (Peed In My Pants)
  This was the highlight of the year. It started out early on a Friday at around 3pm at the Boardroom aka Mwendas. By the time I was done there (1am) I’d have been giving a Bia Bora truck compe in terms of product content were it not for several pit stops to the little boys room for big men. Still had time/energy for an extra 2 hours in westi before hitting the sack. So I got up to the ever effective alarm signals from the unmentionables demanding audience with sanitation facilities. Having slumbered in the sitting room, I had to make my way to the bedroom and in the process lost all sense of direction and balance. I was quickly brought back to my senses by the impact of my eye-brow and nose against the edge of the bedroom door. Working in close tandem, the various parts of my body managed to signal massive pain to my brain, organize for a sharp intake of breath and release three drops in quick succession reminiscent of the tommy-guns of WWII. Needless to say the drops weren’t tears, sweat or blood.
  PINT (Perennially have an INTerest in mwendas)
  See PIMP above. I’ve been labeled furniture at Mwenda’s, I’m asked to book guys seats and tables, I receive texts and calls on a loose Monday afte asking if I’m at the Boardroom. What do I say? That’s the place for me except on Wednesdays from 9pm when I religiously report to Galileo’s for Kidum, the BodaBoda band and their dancing lady of the Madum-dums (Mawetetes – Naks 08). It’s changed my drinking habits from 15 on Fri and 24 on Sat to 2 daily (then 15 and 24 on … LOOOOOOL)
  PLAY (PLease myself very eAsilY)
  I’ve been described as one to enjoy cheap thrills and juicy stories. I am also known to take matters into my own hands aka a hands-on person. I love my fun and would rather have more, than less, things that make me happy cos the things that please those that are hard to please, please me too. Hope you get me please…
  PLAN (Probably Lost A really Nice girl)
  Could be cause I’m stubborn, proud or simply just a nyangau. Then again, in looking out for number one people often encounter others that are also doing the same. The best-laid ones of mice and men…
  POSE (POssibly Should Engage myself more)
  Been bumming for two years. I started school again 3 weeks ago and start work mid this month. Given my experience I guess I can unleash a training seminar called “Bum-boocha”, “Oh bummer” or even “Bum-baNet” and teach the people how to do it in style. Nubian Queen, can I use your avatar as my logo??? LOL!
  PROD (PReviously OrganizeD wild parties)
  Yep, and didn’t my friends love me for it (hence the PIMP). BYOB and I supply the venue, extras and music. There’s something about a party that mimics the male to female ratio of the country that adds extra taste to liquor and heightens enjoyment. Hmmm, there are times I’ve enjoyed so much that an extra “w” was added to the word to make it enjwoyment or better still mwenjwoyos…Those were the times I’d wish I was me and have the extra pleasure of remembering that I was!!!
  
  Ok Archer, I'm done...
• August 28, 2007
• 12:01

  One cold night in KENYA!!

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  irate  

  One cold night in KEeping up with NYAng’aus!!
  I’ve had three major incidences with my car. Two were accidents, one was a carjacking. The only common factor in all these was that there was a woman involved (apart from my being there too hihihihi)… I’ve already blogged about two of these i.e. Starlet to body, 60MPH and Jacked at SOUTH B.
  The third was the most painful. Sniff.., But I’ve attained a state of Mukti/Moksha and can now safely reveal what happened.
  Cueing the cues..
  One cold night in Kenya, my pal Henny had the ideal gal for the moment: long on looks, short on morals; ample on booty, scarce on attire. And she had friends… So we were chillin at Crooked Q, Milo displaying his cue-talents on table, Henny having his crooked chalked. Then her pals decide we need to head over to K2. Now back in 2003ish, K2 used to bamba vi-proper. I wouldn’t have budged an inch as I was on a roll (ninth game bila loss) but the M. I. C. ie Mamiso In Charge seemed to want a hot cup of steamy Milo, seemed to love ma-hepi regardless, seemed to want me to comment on her blogspot (if you know what I’m sayin…) LOOOOOOL
  All roads lead to...
  So I begrudgingly gave away my winners and proceeded to head for K2, max’mum speed, min’mum delay. All was going well, mkwajus/mikwaju beginning to stiffen, adrenalin kiasi, hopes up high. The music in the car was loud and clear; the mood Ol Skool. “I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller…” One could almost imagine that Skee-Lo was seated in the back seat performing live much thanks to Sony Xplod speakers, Kenwood tweeters and the 600W Alpine woofer (woof! woof!). The irony of the song was yet to hit us, literally!!
  Alas, at the Haile Selassie-Uhuru highway round-a-bout having joined and negotiated a majority of the semi-circle, a Yellow-Red canter decides to jump in bila warning. Brake-pedal to floor, screeching of tyres clutching tarmac for dear life and the smell of burning rubber. Seems at that moment my ABS just stood for my brakes asking “Assi! Be Serious??” There was grinding and gnashing of teeth as the whole of my bonnet was condensed and mangled into a fist of sorts. Canter on receiving the brunt of force from 199x car on 197x body suffered the type of scratch one wouldn’t even humor with elastoplast!!
  Surely, surely!!!!!
  Now this is where things got interesting. Canter proceeds to head up Upper Hill road undeterred and unconcerned!! There’s madharau and then there’s madharau – I swear! Father-au even!!! Anways, Rav4, now reduced to kedo Rav1.5, was in quick pursuit and I managed to head the nyang’au off somewhere just before Railway club. Jumping out of said Rav, an enraged Milo accosts the canter driver (a Justice wannabe with two twilight nyangaus by his side). No niceties are exchanged but canter keys are confiscated and 999 is dialed. As we patiently await the arrival of Watumishi kwa Wote pigmy decides to show his mamisos his macho side. “If you are bila insurance and cant pay to have your car repaired that’s yours! I can afford to have mine repaired! And no one touches my car keys just like that. Return them before things get bad!!!” he pipes in English laced with a KhoiSan accent.
  Revenge of the Drunken Master...
  Now I was mad, super-hyper-irate!!!! As the dwarf approached, Milo’s jujitsu, ninjitsu, fujitsu training took over and I was in a zone. Hand-to-body, sneaker-to-butt collisions rendered said vertically challenged individual prostrate on the cold tarmac, whimpering and begging for mercy. Trust Henny, who had been hiding behind me all the while, to suddenly appear at the forefront (when the adversary was on the ground) administering Timberland kicks to torso and unleashing shouts of “Kwenda!! Ghasia!!!”
  

  The rest is a story for another day but the ladies we were transporting ended up in K2 courtesy of the ladies’ everpresent plan B as Henny and I awaited the cops andstatement/insurance/excessmisery!!!Nyangaus! Nyaaaaaaannnnggggggaaaaaaaauuuuuuus!!!!!

  
• July 16, 2007
• 8:30

  Minding your PISS iN Queues

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  gents  

  Minding your Peepee In Serious Sufferation iN Queues

  Another collabo with Guest Blogger

  The other day at Tamasha I witnessed an interesting scenario at the kwa watoto. An Aegeus look-a-like galloped into the loos and resorted to peeing profusely amidst a series of chortles, giggles and neighs. His potty training was still intact as he had his trousers down at the ankles (like the young ones do), his colorless thong - worn the wrong way round - clearly visible below his Fundi Frank tank-top. At a certain point, in true dog-to-tree fashion, he raised a left leg and proceeded to sprinkle away unabashedly. It got me thinking about the so called short-call.

  Call it what you may: susuing, weeweeing, taking a tinkle in glee, kunyora, sweet release, walking willy wanker, water-gun wars, mkojo mkuu etc – the point is, this is an activity not without its wees woes.

  Act I, Scene I - To Pee or not To Pee

  That must have been the question William Shakes-his-spear asked himself over and over on shaking his spear having done the deed. His thoughts were on the hassles and hustles:

  Arriving at the loo, Inexes discovers a long queue. The urge is urgent and the need of needy proportions. Soon he begins to tiptoe in true ballerina fashion, left pirouette, right pirouette. A series of Masai- and Samburu-like jumps are unleashed with jaw being jutted outwards and upwards with each landing and being recoiled for the next leap. He still has time to take a few snapshots of his belly in the urinal mirror mid-air. “C’mon guys,c’mon!!! Maliza chap chap!!!” Damn, a slight leak and the front of his trouser is irrigated by a few ammonia droplets.

  Act I, Scene II- Me I Love Narrow-pee Regardless

  “At least let the starter be okay today!!” JM whispers and mutters under his breath, his furrowed brow revealing the inner tension and fear occasioned by previous encounters in crowded loos. He arrives at the urinal simultaneously with three other characters. He thinks of words of encouragement like those he normally hears when Pee-N Speaks.Within milliseconds of the preliminaries the comrades are gushing away in frenzied unison. Unfortunately JM’s NCC fire-station truck has empty pipes and pumps. He squeezes little josh amidst persistent tugs and tweaking to the left and right. Still nothing!!! The comrades are beginning to wonder why he is there… a few self-inflicted, well placed slaps to lil josh and the rivulet begins accompanied by posterior gASSy sighs of relief.

  Act I, Scene III – Pablo Pee-Castle

  Now, Dooaz Michael-angle-loo loved doodling and sketching in the loo. So he starts the work of art top-down given that pressure is decreasing at an increasing rate. The concentration is intense and the mood somber. Working on the Moaner Pisser is serious stuff. Initial arches are drawn against the dry urinal wall with strokes that are firm and manly. Drat! Running out of paint… The paintbrush is shaken in unison with the natty dreads as the artist withdraws his weapon and retreats from the studio. The incomplete work of art is desecrated and overwritten by the next occupant, Kirima, who unleashes floods of mineral water bottled at source from the slopes of Mt Kirima.

  Act I, Scene IV – Pee-bo Bryson ft Peepee and Susu Winans

  Having finished the extrication the establishment is treated to a rendition of “a whole new world” (with Archer singing both voices of the duet) marking the relief from release …indescribable feeling... Previous drops at the front of the trouser have since dried. Sadly, placing mshale-junior (MJ) to bed also has it risks. Clamping MJ between the index and middle finger, Archer delivers a series of shakes, shivers and quivers to empty the buffers. Thereafter, the clamp pressure is increased and squeegee-like motions applied forward and backward to ensure no hidden manyunyus and marasharashas remain. Comfortable in the thought that he is safe, MJ is laid to rest and Archer saunters away. "Drat!" There is a cold wet feeling at the tip and evidence of the deed is apparent from the frontal, wet trouser stain.

  Act II, Scene I – The Pied Piper of Peepee

  Aegeus was always a shy one totally afraid of the loo. The urinal was never his friend. He hated when there were queues. He’d fidget and shuffle in his feet. Other patrons would wonder what his problem was. To him Walking Willy Wonka was a private ceremony just like Wanking Willy Wonka. He always blushed. Overcome by guilt that his behavior was always deemed inappropriate causing undue sufferation durin urination like flatulation during copulation.

  Act II, Scene II - Crouching Tiger Hidden Peepee

  For starters, he handled his zipper like a delta force tactic. It was secret ammunition to be retrieved under tight surveillance. Like a witness-protection witness in a court of law. Rapid and swiftly. His body so close to the urinal that he was near mounting the porcelain receptacle( after all it had been a while). The nozzle of the small rifle aptly wrapped by foreskin, aptly wrapped by the left hand.

  All the while Aegeus looking backward to see if any outsiders have visually infiltrated his peeing ground. Satisfied that his villi in his villa is safe he releases the sphincters.

  Act II, Scene III - Pee Free or Die Free

  Sometimes overwhelmed by the social bug. The Aegeus sheds his inhibitions and begins to syphon the python proudly. Unzips with one motion. Whips it out in one swing. And spray paints the urinal, like a garden hose to a garden. He breaks all the Urinal Rules of engagement. Makes eye contact with other hoses and waves them hello! Then makes eye contact with the unamused gardener and asks “whassup?!” With a wide crooked smile… and when he finishes shakes his hips in a Shakira-like fashion, and his piece like a bic refusing to write. He swings back his hose into his loin cloth like a belly dancer…and saunters off.

  Act II, Scene IV - Hurry Peepee and the Order of the Bladder

  It’s a cold day. Needs to pee urgently. Its now or never! The Aegeus shyly rushes to the urinal. Clenching back and front sphincters. Finds a queue. Can’t even stand straight, beads of sweat dripping. Finally he’s next on the urinal. Trembling to find the buttons of his corduroy pants, cursing why he loves buttoned trousers. Struggles to pull the elastic of his too tight ngothas, it’s a tag of war between thumb and elastic. Incoming cold finger causes peepee to retract further inwardly. Peepee don’t like cold. Aegeus can’t find said peepee. He discovers a wrinkle and gently pinches it with his nails, lifting it gently outward and forward…. pulls… pulls only to realise it’s the bean sac and not the bean stalk. Finally the time is here. The mind is willing but the body is unable. There is silence as colleagues behind are wondering what’s the delay. A shy Peepee? He waits for the order of the Bladder. Wait for it…and finally a drop drops…then a floodgate is released. According to Bernoulli’s principle: reduced diameter of the pipe = increased velocity and pressure. The recoil pushes him backwards, as he steps on PeeFlani’s toes, causing Bansusu to burst out laughing….

  
  

• May 15, 2007
• 7:45

  Sir John’s Sojourn aka BILAS train

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  bilas  

  SJS aka BItter LAck of Servicing train
  
  Assi! Two posts in two days. Yenyewe this time Im spending in Kericho is working blog wonders on me!!!
  
  This is a tribute to the perennial patrons of the BT whom I shall not name (Shiroh the veteran, Mocha, Nick, Aco, Gish and as of recently Henny).
  
  Prelude
  Sir John – of the "John, nampenda John" fame. The one-eyed, blind snake.
  Sojourn – a temporary stay.
  
  SJS/BT Definition
  The SJS or BT (sometimes called NimeChill) is a metaphor for involuntary and unwelcome exile to the land of no booty wherein the said exile will claim that it was out of choice, they are cool with it and they don’t miss getting a lil som som, yada yada – yeah right!!!
  
  SJS/BT Usage
  The Bilas Train, syntactically, exists in various forms:
  

  • “It’s Bilas…” – expressive form used to explain the state one is in (often in response to the query "Are you getting any?")
  • “On the Bilas Train” – a statement of status when asked about one’s coital status. (Usually accompanied by a sulky or scowling facial expression.)
  • “Off the Bilas Train!!” – a statement of glee when one disembarks from said train. (Exclamation marks for emphasis; as one is usually in a euphoric state by then).

  
  SJS/BT Profile
  It is quite easy to spot those on the BT. Gender plays a big role in this so I shall differentiate the characteristics accordingly:
  
  Female BT:
  

  • Not uncommon to witness them peeling the labels of their Black/Smirnoff Ice at the club – mimicking the undressing they so desperately crave LOL
  • They characteristically walk with an extra swish and sway of the hips as they wiggle past you and immediately throw a glance backwards to catch you in the act of watching them
  • They giggle heartily at your jokes (no matter how dry and bland) ending each giggle with a slight touch or brush of your hand/shoulder/thigh
  • Extra effort is made to give window-shoppers a better view of the items on display/offer/discount i.e. dropping hanky and slowly bending over to pick said hanky, pushing of chest forward with a shimmy as if shaking a kayamba

  
  Male BT:
  

  • Loudly and verbosely declaring their comfort in said state all the time making a mental note of all females who declare the same
  • Always busy discussing their bedroom prowess whenever a female is within earshot
  • Been known to reflexively grab/scoop/manhandle a gals rear as she walks past
  • Dance too close to the ladies on the dance-floor grinding their pelvises/pelvi/many-pelvis against the poor damsel
  • Tend to squirm/fidget when the discussion of masturbating comes up as they are, more likely than not, the most recent participants of the selfsame act

  Trainees - mtajitetea mkiwa upande gani??
• May 14, 2007
• 0:50

  SABA ranks

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  acronyms  

  Seven things About BAshful milo with ranks
  
  Was tagged by Teetotalicious.
  
  You may know that Milo suffers from acronymic homophonia*(Milo 2007). You would have noticed that from my post titles and paragraph headings. Anyway, here is an acronymic, homophonic, ranked order of seven things about Milo:
  
  1. MISNOMER, its noma
  I would have been called Ilo. My first thoughts for a blogID were I LOve NAirobi REgardless aka ILONARE. Thank God for the peculiarities of Kenyan speech including, but not limited to, sentences beginning with “Me I…”
  
  2. ASSess hizo ma-SMS**
  I love a chick with a shapely, firm ass. It makes my beer taste sweeter as I watch her shake it in the club. It makes my mind wander/wonder when she walks by. Not the Ugandan oversize, lakini rounded, firm and manageable. I call them SMS (Shapely Manageable Sianda). Needless to say, my fave posi is Milo on top with partner lying kifudifudi…
  
  3. Merry EX-MISS
  I miss my Ex. We dated from the millennium through to xmas 2005. After the breakup we didn’t speak for close to half a year. Since then we’ve become friends and get along quite well though we don’t see each other much. I miss her!!
  
  4. ALTER EAGLE(-eyed)
  A lot of my previous posts focused on a fictional character called Henny. Henny was subject to various mishaps e.g. unwarranted hard-ons (down SIMBA, down), excessive borrowing of video-tapes (pressure at EPSOD), mishaps in the gym (a day at the GYM) and tight underwear and swallowing (les miseraBALLS) amongst other posts. To those who are eagle-eyed and have had some form of contact with Milo, you may well have realized that Henny is my alter-ego LOL.
  
  5. IM Whistle (cf. IM Weasel)
  I’m a shameless yahoo messenger flirt and love a gal that can hold her own on chat. Granted that there have been poignant scandals arising from the selfsame IM tool but hey… Don’t shoot the messenger!! So all the whistling, cat-calls, etc on messenger – yup! That’s Milo…
  
  6. MAHANJAMA Gandhi
  I’ve been suffering in silence (a la Gandhi’s passive resistance) with the curiosity to meet the following KBWesses who intrigue me, no end, in different ways: Movie Buff, Afromusing, DonQ, Bootylicious, Princess, Quintessence, Kelitu, Chatterly, Sanaa and HalfnHalf.
  
  7. Mr BUMBASTIC
  Aside from my thutha-fascination (see 2 above), I’ve been bumming since April last year. And I love it, love it, love it!!! (Kipepeo 2005) Life couldn’t be beta! I sleep when I want, do what I want and basically lead a stress-free lifestyle. Granted that I have a number of part-time projects on the go to get the bills paid but, (insert shaggy voice here):
  They call me Mr BUMbastic, say me non-frantic, catch me on the slack they say I'm Mr. No...
  Frantic, call me Mr BUMbastic, say me…
  
  *a chronic love for acronyms and homophones
  **Phrase borrowed from Kleptomaniax
• May 08, 2007
• 2:25

  MBA

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  Tags:  commando  

  MBA – Mheshimiwa Bill Angotha
  Wiggle room for Willy
  So I have this friend Bill (not real name) who invited us to join him for a friend’s farewell party. Said feminine friend of fond farewell gave visual meaning to words like bodacious, voluptuous, curvaceous and the various synonyms thereof. Unfortunately for Bill, he decided to wear some light silk trousers with nothing beneath i.e. he was operating combat/commando/bilas.
  
  Digression
  Now, for those of us schooled in the art of moto combat, one knows that it has its pitfalls and perils. These include, but are not limited to:
  

  • Anterior embarrassment in the case of an open fly. Needless to say, Milo was victim to this just 2 weeks ago. I realized my fly was open several hours later, within which spell of time I had visited both Sarit Centre and Prestige Plaza. To think that the patrons of these establishments got to see what Milo has been operating with. And it’s not like they got to see me in my glory but rather in mteja mode. Aaarghhh!!! I kept on wondering where the cool, soothing breeze against my unmentionables was coming from?? Go figure!!!!
  • Posterior pressure when a hole in the rear of the trouser gets one branded with one of the various aliases of my favorite; Red Guy from cartoon network i.e. Cleopantless, Officer Pantsoffski, Professor Van Hindseeing, Seymour Butts etc

  The Meat of the Issue
  Anyways, things were all honky dory until Bill was invited to the podium to say a few words. The podium was a bit of a distance from where we were seated (the full gravity of this will be apparent in a moment). No sooner had he finished his mini speech than the MC decided he should open the floor with the soon to be departing damsel. The onlooking crowd was cheering and clapping along as the duo gyrated to the beat until suddenly there was a hushed silence. It seems that a certain wayward willy had started a size growth that was increasing at an increasing rate. Bill’s silk trousers could do little to mask the fact that he was steadily steadying. It soon achieved Triple H status (Huge, Hideous and Hard). Adding insult to injury, a number of kids were looking on with mouths agape and eyes popping off their sockets in shock and disbelief. Some could even be seen pointing and heard asking “Daddy/Mummy, what is that?” Then there was a sound glitch and the music went off! Our dear friend Bill had to take a walk of shame all the way back to our table (remember that it was a distance away), his warhead on release mode, amidst deafening silence…
  
  TidBits
  Heard of the Endes family? They named their first child Mark ROTFLMAO!
  
  And for your FYI, the producers of the series 24 have decided to do a more realistic version called 16. In this version, the commentary will be in the format:
  The following takes place between xxxxAM and xxxxAM. Events occur in real time save for instances where Jack Bauer gets to:
  

  • Take a dump;
  • Brush his teeth;
  • Chew on a samosa;
  • Change his briefs;
  • Charge his phone;
  • Scratch his rear...
    

  You get the drift….
• April 03, 2007
• 4:51

  conan "the barber" RYAN

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  conan "the barber" RYAN (RowdY ANtics)
  Ok ok... My barber isn't really called Conan Ryan… He's actually called Gitosh. But I needed something for the title. So sue me!!!!
  
  The Before
  It's amazing how I always manage to encounter one of the characters below:
  

  • Professor Calculus - Boss? Dude? Yaani you are operating a receding hair line aka Kihara alias Airport and you are asking barber to give you a number 7 (Box cut). Chief?? Si angalau Ray Parker? Gitosh is but a barber, not some kind of miracle worker!!!

  • Gully(vers) Troubles – I'm sure kindergarten kids envision the shape of this head as they sing "over the hills and down the valleys". If I were you I'd hunt down that mid-wife/mkunga and have words with her for digging her fingers into your scalp as she yanked you out into this world! Then you have the audacity to tell barber to make sure hair is even all over. Kwani you think he is a landscape artist??

  • Volcano – this guy has mob eruptions around the chin looking like dormant Mt Etna and its various relas and then he instructs barber not to use the smoother as nowadays his chin is smooth given that he uses clippers only na aftershave!!!???!!! Ikiwa that chin is smooth, then truly the world is flat and we should resurrect and put to death those unbelievers/infidels again…

  
  The During
  The actual haircut allows one to experience the gamut of emotions…
  

  • Careless Caress – Man oh man, I remember when my barber was actually a marmer/she-barber. Eish Dadi I used to ji-enjoyi tharaly! I understood the full gravity of a female uni student I heard about, complaining bitterly that some dude was caressing her carelessly. In her words "he was care-ressing me care-ress-ree". During the shave, I'd be lost in the oblivion that was her cut. I'd be swooning, sighing, swaying… As I would bask in the aftermath of our shave-making I'd be tempted to ask "was it good for you too?" Aaaahh, those were the days!!!

  • Macaulay "Home Alone" Culkin - You never understand the full effect of Culkin's open-mouthed, post-aftershave-on-cheeks scream until you've been savaged and ravaged on kidevu by barber and then doused with methylated spirit!! And that's the time the radio at the barbershop is blaring TOK's "tears, teeeeeaaaaaarrrrrrs, fallin down…"

  
  The After
  Mirror, miraa on the wall. It's always amazing how everyone gazes into the mirror full of confidence post-shave. Finger and thumb caressing of chin, three quick hand-swipes of side of head and sudden swagger/bounce added to step. This despite the fact that:

  • Calculus has a box cut that looks more like a Kojak with interspersed twigs, shrubs and weeds on top of head,

  • The barber had to change mirror positioning like 20 times to capture all angles of Gully(ver)'s head and

  • The motion of thumb and fingers caressing Volcano's 'smooth' chin was not too dissimilar to those of the cars over sand-dunes during the Paris Dakar rally…

  *Authors Note - Modifications and references to on a Head on Corrishon by one Talented KJ of Reddykulas (sp)
  
• March 27, 2007
• 9:41

  BLEATERS - the series

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  BLog chEATERS – the series
  Synopsis
  Meet SylkTwo, the client. Suspicious of her partner’s bloggy blunders and cavorting comments, SylkTwo approaches BLEATERS to get the answers that would render her a port of peace in the tempestuous torrents that are the KBW blogs. Unbeknownst to her she’ll soon be an island of ire in the serene sea that is the growing relationship between the apple of her eye and one titi tetezzo (fresh as morning due! – Devious 2007).
  
  When asked by Bloggy Greco what led her to BLEATERS doorstep, SylkTwo’s reply is as petty as her not being pretty, as frank as the pungent smell of her funk:
  SylkTwo: It started with the reduction in my comment numbers and the lack of “tihii nimekuwekea wanted” comments that I used to get
  SylkTwo: When I ngugud “tihii”
  Greco: Excuse me… ngu-what?
  SylkTwo: Ngugud, using the search engine ngugu dot com
  Greco: aaaaah, googled
  SylkTwo: That’s what I said, ngugud, duh-uh (SylkTwo rolls her eyes frustrated by Greco’s slowness)
  SylkTwo: Anyway, I came across several “tihii, nimekuwekea wanted”s at other sites but most were by some blogger called anonymous
  SylkTwo: That blogger called anonymous is inerjitic. He comments on almost every blog there is – eish, hachoki???
  SylkTwo: But something tells me that things are Hamisi, things are going Ory, iko kitu
  Greco: (being quick on the mark) aaah, things are amiss, they are going awry
  SylkTwo: Duh-uh (plus eye-roll)
  
  Armed with this information, and eager to get away from the strong, strangling stench, Bloggy Greco deploys the BLEATERS detectives.
  
  Investigation Day 1
  The BLEATERS’ detectives camp within cybercafes across Nairobi, their browsers on 2 sites: NchiYetuDaily and KUL. The sites are being refreshed continually, if not too often, to ensure each post is caught as it comes in. IP ping and trace freeware is in abundance lest the wayward wanderer decides to comment anonymously.
  Six hours later and nothing to report. This lascivious, lecherous (blog)langa is a slimy, sly one. The detectives console themselves by reading Acolyte and close business for the day…
  
  Investigation Day 6
  After 5 grueling days of gnashing and grinding the BLEATERS detectives get what seems to be a breakthrough. A comment comes in on titi tetezzo: “Fao!!! Lemme run and read now…”
  IP address leads back to an all too familiar office complex and an even more familiar floor…
  
  (The confrontation after the break)
  
  Any Other AOB
  Was watching Jamali's take (Maesha) on ESir (RIP) and Nameless' Maisha track. Wonder if they (Kina Nameless) ever got paid for it??
  Youtube - Maesha
• March 07, 2007
• 3:31

  NAKMATT!!! - revisited

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  NAni Kama Mimi, AToTi!!! - revisited
  
  Milo did this post in July 2005 around the same time I joined KBW. Had an incident at the supermarket a few days ago and decided I might as well do a re-post. Man, my posts have so changed since back then! I blame Nick!!!
  
  It starts at the car park…
  It would be easier for a camel’s hump to pass through the eye of a needle than for you to find a parking anywhere near the supermarket. You chug past the myriad of occupied parking spaces getting further and further away from the entrance sign. Car is on gear two hoping that fuel consumption will be less...
  
  Niaje beshte?
  A VCD/Tape/fake-DVD vendor, notorious for screen entertainment unavailable from normal video libraries, spots your car and eagerly rushes forward. Given the occupant of your passenger seat, you attempt to interrupt him mid-sentence as he shouts “Sema boss, umerudi? Nikuletee kama kawai…” You unconvincingly try to dismiss the incident claiming that you’ve never purchased anything from Njoroge him or his ilk. “You lied to me, when you said you’d never…” is blaring on Kiss FM. Mark Morrison at his best! You finally get a parking, having cut in front of an old lady in a small car with an “L” sign displayed for all to view. As you disembark and walk past her car, you notice her inhaler, clamped-to-mouth with one hand, as she uses the other to give you the finger. You proceed, undeterred.
  
  Entry into NAKMATT
  You reach for the trolley but the business-card-filled wallet dictates otherwise. Hand is re-directed to a basket. You begin to search for your items. The attendants are as helpful as a swimming pool - to a person suffering from the flu - in winter. Then begins the process of mentally tallying your bill as items are picked from the various stands: 7+8+6+5+7 = 3 carry 2, 2+3+etc
  
  At the cash till
  You look beady eyed as the ever-rising cash total at the till increases disproportionately to the offloading of items from your basket. As the total gets nearer and nearer to your Cash-in-Hand, hereafter referred to as C-i-H, (not too different in value from your Cash-at-Bank, for Balance Sheet lovers) your reaction varies depending on the day of the week:
  (a) Weekdays – tie is loosened and collar unbuttoned. Chin is raised as index finger is used to tug collar away from neck…
  (b) Weekends – index finger and thumb used to tug ear-lobe. The same metacarpals are used to stroke chin…
  Whichever the case, the room temperature seems to have increased several notches!
  
  All crossables are crossed – metacarpals, metatarsals… Alas! Total bypasses C-i-H mentioned above. It suddenly dawns on you that you carried 2 instead of 3 in your mental arithmetic. Haiya! Things are tight dadi, things are tight! You look for the one item without a price tag and claim that the price on the stand was different from what the cashier has punched in. She reminds you that all she did was to swipe a bar code. You insist and your suddenly varicose-venated temples become testament to your growing anger – the best defence is an offence! Your causing a scene begins to attract the attention of others much to your dismay. You need to turn the situation around, quick! Cashier removes item bila price tag from the tally. You are still 30 bob short! The shame, the shame!!
  
  Serious times call for serious action
  Trump card of the last resort needs to be played. You decide not to pay cash given the ((total bill) – (cash-in-hand) = 30 bob) discrepancy. You unleash the debit card, your smiling picture thereupon similar to the facial expression of your bank manager whenever he looks at your salary credit on your bank statement and compares it to your title at work.
  Like clockwork, the debit card is rejected, you feign total dissatisfaction with the establishment and promptly leave, minus selected items, vowing never to return! Someone else from the queue leaves his shopping behind and rushes off bumping into you from behind. Seems there were others in a similar state of debit-card penury as you...
  
  It ends at the car park
  You arrive at your car to find that the aforementioned old lady has double parked behind you! She hobbles over 45 minutes later, trolley laden with shopping goodies. Taking her time, she lets the attendant load the stuff into her car and tips him 30 bob. She then enters the car, takes three massive breath-swigs from the inhaler and shows you the finger, in her rear-view mirror, as she drives off!
• February 26, 2007
• 13:29

  bloggyWOOD

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  bloggyWOOD (WOndrOus aDs)
  
  Let me keep it short today…
  Milo was just sitting around thinking: What if KBW members were cast for some of the Ads we have on telly/radio? It would be so great!!
  Picture this:
  
  Ad: Hoechst-Telly
  Cast: Kelitu, DonQ, Ms K, Shiro
  Ad starts with gals trying to pronounce Hoechst:
  Kelitu: Horse
  DonQ: Hoe-Chest
  Ms K: Hoooasss
  Shiro (voice cracking): Ooeeesssssss
  
  Ad: Toss-Radio
  Cast: Admin, Bantuts
  Admin: 3rd year Blogger with a Grey Blog, why are you trying out for the “Best New Blogger 2006/2007” KayBees category?
  Bantuts (protesting): But I’m a 1st year blogger
  Admin: No no no!! With that Grey Blog you must have been around for ages
  Bantuts (in a high-pitched voice): But it’s Bllaaaaaccckkkkkkkk
  
  Ad: Fair and Lovely – Telly
  Cast: Milo, Klara and Just Sue
  Milo (speaking to Klara): You’ve got the most beautiful avatar I’ve ever seen!
  Klara blushes
  Milo (pointing at Just Sue’s site): Now how do I tell that to her!??
  
  Ad: Knorr Soup – Telly
  Cast: Aco (in an Apron tagged “Kiss the Mvaite”)
  Aco: Turn on the blog, cut the crap ehhh
  Aco: Blog it on, gonna make my day
  Aco: That post it excites me, those comments they delight me
  Aco: When I bloooooooog, uuuu my blog post te-nene-ne te te-nene-ne
  
  Any resemblance to bloggers, past or present, is purely coincidental (even the linking to their sites)
• February 17, 2007
• 3:05

  BLOGopa djs presents KuBWAS

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE

  BLOGopa djs presents KBW All Stars

  KuBWAS ft Mr Lenny – Maisha Bloguni
  Licious on synth, Whis on drums, Nakeel shaking the kayamba furiously!! Bootylicious just there for show looking moto moto LOL!! Princess and BFly are the dancers...
  

  Acolyte	Anutha Homeboyz Producshizzle
  Acolyte	Come down selekta, Musyoookaaaaaa!!
  Milo taps Aco and reminds him that its an Ogopa production
  Acolyte	Ooops… Ogopa DeeeeeeeeJays!!!
  Verse 1
  Maisha	Nilimeza Viagra, nikasteddy ka siku sita
  Maisha	Yaliopita si ndwele, si ndwele yaliopita
  Klara	Mpe Milo chance, usiwe na wasiwasi
  Just Sue	Akuna my dear! Yule mroro ni ka Abu Nwasi
  Klara	Pigeni picha juu ya ukuta, magoti tupu bila soksi
  Just Sue	Caught up, can’t make it, siingii ndani ya box!!
  Unyc	Pass me those roses, call me lovely, wewe kwenda!
  Unyc	I’ll trample on them roses, and do a return to sender
  Modo	Nimeblogu ki-Uganda, mtasare hiyo risto
  Modo	Nimebarikiwa kidensi, shukran kwa Christo
  Bantutu	Lady B nami, tumeshikana ki-MauMau
  Bantutu	Nawika Miaow! Ka yule wangu nyaunyau
  Aegeus	Tihii, nimekuweka wanted!
  JadeKitten	Tihii, mi pia nimekuweka wanted!
  Aegeus	Tihii, nimekuweka wanted tena!
  JadeKitten	Tihii, mi pia nimekuweka wanted tena!
  Chorus
  Mr Lenny	Maisha bloguni poa, life in KBW is great
  Mr Lenny	Maisha bloguni poa, all you haters don’t hate
  Mr Lenny	Maisha bloguni poa, posts are many, posts are sawa
  Mr Lenny	Maisha bloguni poa, mabloggers ni watu wa pawa
  Verse 2
  Ichi/DonQ	smh, LOL, ROTFL, LMAO
  Shiroh	Niko katikati, niko meadow meadow
  Ichi/DonQ	smh, LOL, ROTFL, LMAO
  Shiroh	Leave these 2 gals alone, they are just shao
  Couch Tato	Peel me, peel me, convert me to Tato Chips
  Movie Buff	Go Colts!!
  Couch Tato	Salt me, salt me, salt me hard till you shake your hips
  Movie Buff	Go Colts!!
  EGM	My ravree shokrate sheeks, you make me shout woi!
  Devious	Come spank me my santa, you naughty Baba Boi…
  Archer	Niliona scene ya movie nikauliza “James Bond atakaa wapi jameni?”
  Archer	Keroro ingesteady nerves lakini Pilsner Ice hawai-produce tena hao washenzi
  Bantutu	Mtu saba ndio waliiba kwenu juzi
  Bantutu	Mtu saba walipiga babako ngeta juzi
  Dr pO taps Bants and reminds him that those were Jua Cali’s lines in anutha song. There is a commotion and wild screaming as Bants nyaunyau mauls Dr pO. In the background WanjaKihii is spotted shaking her palmfuls, mouth stuffed with chocolate…
  Chorus
  Bridge	Sung by Aco in falsetto
  Acolyte	It’s the life, it’s the life, ooooooooooooh it’s the liiiiiife
  Acolyte	Blogging all day, blogging all nite, blogger is my wiiiiiiiife
  Repeat chorus till fade...

• April 11, 2006
• 3:14

  FartosynTHESIS

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  FartosynTHESIS (THE synopSIS)
  
  If ever there were a beauty pageant pungent for flatulence, one can only imagine who the contestants would be:
  
  Parapanda
  In this case tanye decides to piga tarumbeta the fullest. The sonorous reverberations, measuring 6.5 on the Richter scale, cause the butt cheeks to part, wobble and re-merge severally, resulting in an appearance of clapping, as if they are self-complimenting. Accompanying sound from the mouth of producer is sss (breath intake before) mmmmmmmmmmmmmm (during) and aaaaaaaaaaah (relief immediately thereafter).
  
  Falsetto
  This high-pitched baby is a major tribute to the greats i.e Aaron Neville and the Bee Gees. Ndwiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii is the ever increasing pitch of falsetto with accompanying heat, likely to burn a hole in even the newest of polyester. As its best, people in the proximity have been known to swat and swipe at the environs of their ears, suspecting the presence of mosquitoes!! One needs to be careful that this one doesn’t end off in sputters lest the flatulence be chaperoned by more er… semi-solid products…
  
  Tommy-gun
  This one’s been to the jungles of ‘Nam and lived to tell the tale. The rat-tat-tat action signals its shooting its way out of the captivity of constipation. With the hallmarks of military strategy, T-g accumulates the troops over time and rebelliously breaks for freedom! Accompanying sound from the mouth in this case is WTF!! (immediately before) and uu-uu-uu-uu-uu (during and well after release)
  
  Undacova
  If ever there was a perfect illustration of the legal term “Res Ipsa Loquitur” ie the thing speaks for itself, this is the one. The producer will usually be humming under his breath “Mos mos, mos mos, Pole pole! Mos mos” (ESir ft Brenda) during the release. The only other thing one can say about this silent killer (Akiey, 2005) is that it inspired the Chinese saying “Packed elevator smell different to midget”.
  
  Fartogenic
  Like wolves, these ones travel in packs. They tend to be hereditary hence thrive at family gatherings. Commonest example is the table scene in the Nutty Professor where various family members exchanged not-so-pleasantries. Usually, the first of these acts like a choirmaster setting the pitch with a slight toot on the harmonica. The various choir members respond willingly and on key. The accompanying instrumentation tends to be the ooooooooohs and aaaaaaahs of relief from the producers and an occasional Kirk Franklin/Kanye West imitation with shouts of “Well-in! Good one there! Suh-weet!”
  
  Mteja
  This really doesn’t count, except by association. Common in places under public scrutiny and presence, emissions due for release are stopped dead in their tracks! It involves great control and practice. Butt cheeks are clenched and the pelvis is pushed forward eagerly and hard. It becomes a case of FRTS (Flatulent Return To Sender). Output is sent back to the nether regions it came from. Usually results in a growling stomach that one struggles to control by frantically sucking in and pushing out stomach, all the while practising lamas class breathing techniques (Nick, 2006).
  
  Ladies and gentlemen, and the winner is…
• March 19, 2006
• 2:46

  Les MiseraBALLS

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  Les MiseraBALLS (BALLiStically painful)
  Yes, I finally get to mention the unmentionables in their full glory. And mention them I shall; generously and severally in abundance. Mention them as others are so liberally doing here, there and everywhere - LOL
  
  Call them what you may: shrivelleds, wrinkleds, kwa watoto, proverbials, grapes, family jewels, crown jewels, Trinidad and Tobago, them Mushrooms, the twin Kahunas, mboroz, gentiles*, groinads*, meatballs no sauce - fine by me.
  
  Whichever the case, they can be a source of major, earth-shattering pain my friend.
  
  Tight situation
  Your day begins in haste as you’ve overslept. Rummaging through the drawers reveals that you have no clean er… drawers; save for the one mini-undie you never got round to wearing. Given that you will be donning your light silk trousers, operating like Bill Angothaz is not an option.
  
  You therefore squeeze yourself into the miniscule innerwear. During the course of the day, portions of your unmentionables shrug themselves off the undie in a bid to get free - cue Braveheart's William Wallace “Freeeedooooooom!!!!”
  Soon you have the discomfort of mini-wear squeezing sections of your proverbials against your pelvis. The evidence of this reveals itself via:
  

  • A significant change in walking style where left and right leg seem to be powerful magnets of the same polarity.
  • Grimacing evident on the face with hands inadvertently heading towards the general area below the belt just to be hastily withdrawn on sighting nearby human presence.
  • Yelping sounds whenever sitting is attempted.
  • A tendency to push the butt backwards, upwards and outwards with a slight shimmy and wiggle hoping to wrestle free of the mini-wear.
  • Imprints of gulleys, wadis and undulating valleys on meatballs no sauce etched out by pressure of miniwear on available portions of unmentionables.

  Relief, sweet relief
  Arriving home that evening, you release your shrivelleds from their captors for the day, cupping them in your hands and cooing with pleasure… If ever there was a feeling of paradise, it is the feeling you have then!!! You stand up and allow them to rock gently side to side, forward and back, all the time enjoying the relief of a slight wind blowing against them comfortingly and soothingly. In the event of lack of the breeze, an old copy of the Pulse magazine and some fanning hand action can help. “Coochie coochie coo, coochie coochie coo” you softly, affectionately and caringly sing your apologies to your goodies. You really punished them today!!!
  
  Danger ahead
  Other times, it is not your garments that are the cause of the discomfort. Take the instance of walking down the streets. Your supuumeter automatically senses an approaching beauty! Alarms bells sound off in your head(s) and your eyes dart around hungrily, searching for the intuitively sensed target. Aaaaaah… There she is in her full glory… Her summer dress receives a waft of wind and rises to the occasion. In a scene reminiscent of Marilyn Munro, said lovely attempts to curtail the upward flow of her dress with both hands. The glimpse caught of the creamy thighs result in a trouser bulge not too high above your knee.
  
  This moment of pleasure is swiftly and abruptly interrupted by thunder, hailstones and white lightning in the brain as you walk into a waist-high pole by the pavement. The pole dissects your lower half, dead centre between the thighs, bringing forth tears, gnashing and grinding of teeth. Tremors rock the body and you suffer an immediate but temporary case of rickets bringing the knees together and forcing the heels apart. You sink to your knees as wave upon wave of pain signals are persistently and continuously communicated to the brain.
  
  Is there are choir in need of a falsetto singer? Because your voice will revert to being unbroken for the rest of that week…
  
  * Corruption of groin and gonads and yes – I meant gentiles...
• March 07, 2006
• 9:34

  OesoFUNGUS

   » ‎ Me I LOve NAirobi REgardless - MILONARE
  OesoFUNGUS (FUNky GaseoUS)
  A collabo with the one and only loonie mate
  
  Proximus Maximus
  Ever sat next to a person emitting rancid fumes from the eseo… oseo… eoso… oose… whateva… phagus? Jeez, this guy can do you some damage!! Can anyone in the house spell h.a.l.i.t.o.s.i.s?? And to make matters worse, the polluted halitus is accompanied by vapid, insipid speech punishing the nose and ears in a two-pronged tag-team-like attack.
  
  Peek-a-boo
  OFFENDER: NOW the breath is usually HOT and HUMID, usually from the depths of the pharynx. It's usually Meaty...and if early in the morning u can trace tea and bread smell (usually the unsliced type). It's released in one gusto...or in whispered motions if the person is aware. The lips as aforementioned (actually mentioned lower down) move like a presidential escort to clear way for incoming tornado vapours.
  
  OFFENDED: The wave hits the nostrils with the fury of Katrina. There is blurred vision sometimes loss of balance sometimes incoherent mumblings of agreement... You instantly tear up, blink. Reflex urges are muted and u can’t sneeze...u feel ur toes and nose-hairs curl up. Ur smell centres discern the different smell... and for sure they confirm that's a new kind of nasty. You try not to breathe. You try to breathe via exhaling only but your body reaffirms some inhaling is required...you shy away from the smell and breathe south south west of the direction...but that smell is good in hide and seek-it creeps up on u and screams "GOTCHA!" and for sure you have been had!
  
  Waiting to Exhale
  For some reason or other, those blessed with this condition have the tendency to exhale while speaking (pre, during and post each word) generating a machine-gun like assault on the nostrils further aggravated by a rain-shower of saliva, worthy of an umbrella. They use words like ehhhhh, ahhhh and ohhhhh that require exhalation to enunciate properly – sheez these guys!!!! Their faces (cracked lips et al) approach yours in some warped reminder of perspective from Art lessons bringing nasal destruction and gloom nearer, oh so nearer!!!
  
  Ever heard of mints my guy, ever heard of mints? In fact, the guy probably needs the mint SWAT team.
  
  Tidbits
  

  • These guys usually have lips that are flared in a 'don’t touch my teeth' direction...yaani them lips are like running away from the pungent odiferous volcanic eruptions happening from within
  • Now, a closer CSI interior look shall reveal, remnants of undigested...or unchewed chunks lodged within pockets. At some point some ndengu seeds even start germinating but the extra free oxygen doesn’t help matters.
  • They splatter away in speech, and if by bad luck a drop happens to land on u...do not wipe, do not touch...just let it dry out...
  • These people are the type that wipe their mouth with their hands and hold doors and shake hands and u end up wondering if they had just visited the loo...trust me you’re luckier with the latter
  • These people are the same ones that fall asleep behind/beside u in a mat with the mouths open and they ventilate you collar in ways that violate u more than Instigator's last post

  Putting the Moves
  Their whispering of sweet nothings to the ears of the lovelies emit fumes of neat swathings wrapped around a decaying mummy… If this guy happens to be a kao doctor, when he asks you to “say haaaaa” you do not require anaesthesia as you’ll be out for the count - for quite a while.
  
  Wira ni Wira
  Anyway, I can see at least 3 jobs they are guaranteed to get:
  

  • Anti-riot police to replace contents of tear-gas canisters with upepos ma-smelly
  • Pest control – no need to fumigate. Get the guy sleepy and then release him to yawn continually in the target room.
  • WWE wrestling champion - a finishing move called Breathalyzer - Alcoblow kando...

  Na msisahau ku-floss meno leo jioni!!!