Spent the day mulling over ideas of what to do with myself when I leave my job which looks increasingly like something I'll do. Mummy says I'll be ok if I venture into greenhouse farming. People need to eat, right? At the moment just not doing much but indulging myself with some random thoughts, some dark.
I love R Kelly, especially the early 90's stuff but I also came across this vid from the Shaft movie soundtrack. The gay man in me will always feel for the underdog. Hope you like. Let's keep talking. xxx xx xxx
R. Kelly - Bad Man
Free Music Videos at www.blastro.com
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Just a quickie
Hi everyone. Just wanted to catch up with what’s going on. Looks like Kalonzo Musyoka takes the crown for Kenya’s sexiest male politician as voted by you dear readers, unless there’s some overnight rigging which we all know is unheard of in Kenya! Perhaps he’ll include it in his manifesto for the 2012 elections...
I’m feeling down in the dumps and at a crossroads lately. Yesterday I went and treated myself to a 17-inch laptop thinking that would cheer me up but when I got home I didn’t even take it out of the box. I feel quite depressed.
So, I’m contemplating quitting my job - that’s the crossroads I’m at. I'm thinking of trying my hand at something that I enjoy but I don’t know what it is at the moment. I can’t blog full-time because I don’t think I can sustain myself (and us) on just roasted maize and tea! And people who responded to my CV post only want me to send them photos of me on a hammock in just my monkey-skin thong. Don’t they know how itchy those things are around the crotch?
Anyway, so perhaps I’ll start making jams and pickles to sell (Jamaku, anyone?). Or perhaps I could start a communal-wank where people come together (hear me out) and have a wank in a group while watching the same porn on a giant screen hence saving on electricity in their homes. Like a wanking chama. No? I really need some ideas, so please you clever people out there help me out.
Anyway there’s the end of my quickie which actually turned out to be a marathon session. Hehehe. Laters my dears.
I’m feeling down in the dumps and at a crossroads lately. Yesterday I went and treated myself to a 17-inch laptop thinking that would cheer me up but when I got home I didn’t even take it out of the box. I feel quite depressed.
So, I’m contemplating quitting my job - that’s the crossroads I’m at. I'm thinking of trying my hand at something that I enjoy but I don’t know what it is at the moment. I can’t blog full-time because I don’t think I can sustain myself (and us) on just roasted maize and tea! And people who responded to my CV post only want me to send them photos of me on a hammock in just my monkey-skin thong. Don’t they know how itchy those things are around the crotch?
Anyway, so perhaps I’ll start making jams and pickles to sell (Jamaku, anyone?). Or perhaps I could start a communal-wank where people come together (hear me out) and have a wank in a group while watching the same porn on a giant screen hence saving on electricity in their homes. Like a wanking chama. No? I really need some ideas, so please you clever people out there help me out.
Anyway there’s the end of my quickie which actually turned out to be a marathon session. Hehehe. Laters my dears.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Stroke it for me
One of my all time favs. God, why Aaliyah? Gone too soon..
Especially for my friend Paprika who is nursing a cold right now. Better soon hun!
Especially for my friend Paprika who is nursing a cold right now. Better soon hun!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
How to conceal a weapon
Back in school I used to daydream a lot, especially during lazy Thursday afternoons staring outside at the grassed football pitches and beyond when we had double Geography. In my mid-teens more than 98% of these retreats into my own world were sexual in content the other 2% being about food. Not much has changed since, just the food replaced with booze. And I was not alone. In boys’ boarding schools MUCH time is spent thinking about sex, sex and more sex. Just ask those who do the laundry. Most boys myself included spent the afternoons drifting in and out of a state of blissful sexual intoxication, if you’d looked under the desks you’d be poked in the eye by the numerous painful boners threatening to topple the desks over. Back then that was the main reason boys had that glazed over look in class. These days teachers need to look out for glue sniffing and mobile facebook. The good ol’ days, aaahh.
I was nearly caught out one such afternoon during Miss Ruth’s class. She was a youngish beauty with a body that made it naked into many of my classmates’ bedtime fantasies. Many boys turned out A-grades in Geography hoping madly that they would be rewarded with a cup and tinker of her double C bells. On this afternoon I was dreaming about Dan our goalie who I’d recently discovered also liked ball play of a very different kind. Anyway Miss Ruth interrupted me out of my teenporn dreamland by the window: ‘Tamaku, would you come to the front of the class and present on the effects of rural-urban migration on African cities’.
I wouldn’t because I was wooden down there. I’d done my homework on demographics and could talk for days but if I stood up now Miss and the rest of the class would see the tent in my trousers. So I hurt Miss Ruth’s feelings because I was one of her favourites and shocked everyone else when I said, ‘No Miss, you can ask someone else I’m feeling rather tired today’ – which was the gross misconduct of high school but she let me off on account of my previous unblemished record. I also suspect that she realised that beneath an insolent male teenager might lie a throbbing head.
From that day on I learnt how to park my tool so that an erection did not turn into a wardrobe malfunction (I wear to the left, facing north-east when in y-fronts). Also I find a blazer buttoned up takes care of these embarrassing indiscretions. That’s the only reason why young hot black studs love their baggy jeans and why racist policemen who are closet gays love to stop them for searches...
I was nearly caught out one such afternoon during Miss Ruth’s class. She was a youngish beauty with a body that made it naked into many of my classmates’ bedtime fantasies. Many boys turned out A-grades in Geography hoping madly that they would be rewarded with a cup and tinker of her double C bells. On this afternoon I was dreaming about Dan our goalie who I’d recently discovered also liked ball play of a very different kind. Anyway Miss Ruth interrupted me out of my teenporn dreamland by the window: ‘Tamaku, would you come to the front of the class and present on the effects of rural-urban migration on African cities’.
I wouldn’t because I was wooden down there. I’d done my homework on demographics and could talk for days but if I stood up now Miss and the rest of the class would see the tent in my trousers. So I hurt Miss Ruth’s feelings because I was one of her favourites and shocked everyone else when I said, ‘No Miss, you can ask someone else I’m feeling rather tired today’ – which was the gross misconduct of high school but she let me off on account of my previous unblemished record. I also suspect that she realised that beneath an insolent male teenager might lie a throbbing head.
From that day on I learnt how to park my tool so that an erection did not turn into a wardrobe malfunction (I wear to the left, facing north-east when in y-fronts). Also I find a blazer buttoned up takes care of these embarrassing indiscretions. That’s the only reason why young hot black studs love their baggy jeans and why racist policemen who are closet gays love to stop them for searches...
Monday, September 21, 2009
Afrigator blog rankings taken with a pinch of salt
I noticed this morning that I'd been propelled to the cabinet of
Kenyan blogs at number 7 according to Afrgator.com(and 156 in Africa)!
Surely that would make me the equivalent of Minister for Water and
Irrigation in the government so thank you dear readers and followers
for the time you take to drop by, we do have a good laugh.
Kenyan blogs at number 7 according to Afrgator.com(and 156 in Africa)!
Surely that would make me the equivalent of Minister for Water and
Irrigation in the government so thank you dear readers and followers
for the time you take to drop by, we do have a good laugh.
However call me a thankless bastard or one suffering from a dose of
low self esteem (or both) but I'm increasingly looking at these
rankings with a raised eyebrow. Is it just me? They seem to be all
over the place for Kenyan blogs. I even noticed recently that some
blogs have opted to move away and I'm only guessing that these wild
fluctuations have not helped. By the way for what it's worth can
Kenyan IT bods not provide an alternative? I feel like Afrigator ina
wenyewe (Afrigator has it's owners)
There. I've said what some are thinking. Gators have sharp teeth and
they do bite so I'm going to find somewhere to hide my sweet ass even
though I hope we can still be friends.
PS: It's hilarious that as I was typing this out my ranking went back
to my regular 19th in Kenya and 420th in Africa. Seems I was only
Flavour of the Morning :)
Friday, September 18, 2009
Please see my CV and help me get a job
Hi prospective employers, please find attached my CV. You can send me your offers by email. I'm available for interviews most nights. Thanks xxx xx
Tamaku CV
Age: Legal
Sexual orientation: Very gay
Languages: English and pure Sheng
Key Skills
Dicking, bend and snap after some drinks, shakin it, ass poppin and dropping it like its hot with my boyfriend George. We come together (the best way).
Interests
I enjoy exposing myself in gents’ toilets in Nairobi bars to show off my package and getting free trebles on a Friday night in Westlands. Occasionally we have a grope with my colleague Sheila just to check the equipment is still in working condition for women who might need some attention. I also enjoy the attention of all my blog friends but I want to touch some of them inappropriately one day.
Career to Date
From: June 2009
To: Current
Company: Camp David Strippers of Nairobi, some blogging.
Job Title: Certified Wench of Note
Key skills and activities: Versatile, hot, hot, hot. Being able to move and throw some pant poppin shapes. Brilliant customer servicing and keep them coming back.
From: March 2006
To: June 2009
Company: Tamaku Inc
Job Title: Sexual Healer
Key skills and activities: Training gay men how to blow and stroke hot bots while studying porn in local cyber cafes without being spotted. Advanced technique in hand jobs while driving along Uhuru Highway in rush hour traffic. Ability to perform complex origami shapes using just my toned butt cheeks. Also avoiding getting diseases which has been successful so far.
From: January 2004
To: February 2006
Company: Nuts & Screws in Nairobi
Job Title: Sampler
Key skills and activities: Showing Nairobi gay boys how to look tight and what they should be looking for in other men.
Tamaku CV
Age: Legal
Sexual orientation: Very gay
Languages: English and pure Sheng
Key Skills
Dicking, bend and snap after some drinks, shakin it, ass poppin and dropping it like its hot with my boyfriend George. We come together (the best way).
Interests
I enjoy exposing myself in gents’ toilets in Nairobi bars to show off my package and getting free trebles on a Friday night in Westlands. Occasionally we have a grope with my colleague Sheila just to check the equipment is still in working condition for women who might need some attention. I also enjoy the attention of all my blog friends but I want to touch some of them inappropriately one day.
Career to Date
From: June 2009
To: Current
Company: Camp David Strippers of Nairobi, some blogging.
Job Title: Certified Wench of Note
Key skills and activities: Versatile, hot, hot, hot. Being able to move and throw some pant poppin shapes. Brilliant customer servicing and keep them coming back.
From: March 2006
To: June 2009
Company: Tamaku Inc
Job Title: Sexual Healer
Key skills and activities: Training gay men how to blow and stroke hot bots while studying porn in local cyber cafes without being spotted. Advanced technique in hand jobs while driving along Uhuru Highway in rush hour traffic. Ability to perform complex origami shapes using just my toned butt cheeks. Also avoiding getting diseases which has been successful so far.
From: January 2004
To: February 2006
Company: Nuts & Screws in Nairobi
Job Title: Sampler
Key skills and activities: Showing Nairobi gay boys how to look tight and what they should be looking for in other men.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Nairobi pornographers, prostitutes, perverts, pimps plus pushers pursue phoney promises of prosperity
A mole tells me of this cameraman who was recently contracted to film his first adult movie at a boarding and lodging room now converted into a studio above some shops along a seedier part of Nairobi’s Luthuli Avenue. The guy got carried away when the action got too steamy, he just dropped his camera and proceeded to relieve his tension just as the cast were on the verge of the grand finale. The video camera lens was generously spluttered with his dna (jism and spunk are so 1970’s darlings). Some ‘swimmers’ even reached our hapless cameraman’s hairy chest and not only was he ejected from the set but he also had some explaining to do later that evening when his wife discovered dried and crusty remnants. Anyway she happily swallowed the old porridge-on-the-chest line.
Irony of it all, I’m told, is the cameraman’s solo performance (faster than Bolt doing 100 meters on Red Bull) was better that the actors’ jaded fakery but no one recorded it. I managed to acquire the off-camera sounds of a very authentic ‘aaaargh aaaargh aargh aargh’ which George now has as his phone ringtone.
Coming when you are called…..
Irony of it all, I’m told, is the cameraman’s solo performance (faster than Bolt doing 100 meters on Red Bull) was better that the actors’ jaded fakery but no one recorded it. I managed to acquire the off-camera sounds of a very authentic ‘aaaargh aaaargh aargh aargh’ which George now has as his phone ringtone.
Coming when you are called…..
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Confessions of a gay Kenyan student
“There was this older student who singled me out for bullying when I joined a leading secondary school some years back. John, a prefect of my private boarding house was muscular and quite handsome in a rugged way but he started picking on me the day I started. The abuse was mainly verbal insults and sometimes physical (slaps and kicks), generally making my life a misery.
One early morning I caught John peeping at me from the next cubicle as I took a shower. He had that hungry look in his eyes, the sound of slapping as he soaped himself vigorously up and down. I see that look even today in some older men who lurk in the bars here in Nairobi sipping warm lager from the bottle as they ogle at younger men from dimly lit alcoves. That’s when I decided to teach John a lesson.
Days later on a Saturday evening John came to me in the common room as we watched TV after supper and whispered hoarsely, ‘Hey you, I’ve got a half bottle of vodo, come see me in my room after lights out.’ I knew what he wanted and he was taking a big risk – and not just with the alcohol. He looked so pathetic and that’s when it dawned on me that I had the upper hand so I whispered back to him: ‘I’ll be busy scrubbing my feet as my toes are itching so bad, I think I’ve got athlete’s foot. After that I’ll have my mug of bournvita with milk and then go to bed.’ I’m so busy galfriend. All these years later I still delight to recall his face crushed in disappointment.
The bullying stopped then and John spent the rest of the term chasing after me like a puppy. I kept him keen with my choirboy smile, a dose of slow sleepy eyes and the occasional flash of my toned teen cakes in the showers pretending to drop and then slowly pick up my soap when it was just the two of us. It got ridiculous when he started writing me love notes and leaving them under my pillow in the dormitory (a conundrum for 'dirty room'). Then one evening before we closed for the holidays when he caught me flicking through a much-thumbed copy of Tits & Clits that the cook had lent to my friend Martin, I let John blow me. I’ve never been a heartless monster, I do my bit for charity and I didn’t want him to do something reckless that would see him get expelled that’s why I gave in.
So on that moonless March evening John, Senior Prefect and Rugby Captain went on his knees on the cobbled walkway behind the physics lab and finished me off. All I remember is watching him slavering like a rabid dog on a hot day in Nanyuki. So desperately heartbreaking.”
As told to Tamaku, names changed to protect the guilty now married with kids.
One early morning I caught John peeping at me from the next cubicle as I took a shower. He had that hungry look in his eyes, the sound of slapping as he soaped himself vigorously up and down. I see that look even today in some older men who lurk in the bars here in Nairobi sipping warm lager from the bottle as they ogle at younger men from dimly lit alcoves. That’s when I decided to teach John a lesson.
Days later on a Saturday evening John came to me in the common room as we watched TV after supper and whispered hoarsely, ‘Hey you, I’ve got a half bottle of vodo, come see me in my room after lights out.’ I knew what he wanted and he was taking a big risk – and not just with the alcohol. He looked so pathetic and that’s when it dawned on me that I had the upper hand so I whispered back to him: ‘I’ll be busy scrubbing my feet as my toes are itching so bad, I think I’ve got athlete’s foot. After that I’ll have my mug of bournvita with milk and then go to bed.’ I’m so busy galfriend. All these years later I still delight to recall his face crushed in disappointment.
The bullying stopped then and John spent the rest of the term chasing after me like a puppy. I kept him keen with my choirboy smile, a dose of slow sleepy eyes and the occasional flash of my toned teen cakes in the showers pretending to drop and then slowly pick up my soap when it was just the two of us. It got ridiculous when he started writing me love notes and leaving them under my pillow in the dormitory (a conundrum for 'dirty room'). Then one evening before we closed for the holidays when he caught me flicking through a much-thumbed copy of Tits & Clits that the cook had lent to my friend Martin, I let John blow me. I’ve never been a heartless monster, I do my bit for charity and I didn’t want him to do something reckless that would see him get expelled that’s why I gave in.
So on that moonless March evening John, Senior Prefect and Rugby Captain went on his knees on the cobbled walkway behind the physics lab and finished me off. All I remember is watching him slavering like a rabid dog on a hot day in Nanyuki. So desperately heartbreaking.”
As told to Tamaku, names changed to protect the guilty now married with kids.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Dreams of new Kenyan trains by man-eaters
the country in a few short years! I can't wait for the Nairobi to
Mombasa carriages...wow, the fun and comfort we will all have such as
what George and I enjoyed on this train from northern England some
weeks ago.
Imagine listening to piped Malaika as you shuttle through Tsavo at
160kph! Magical...simply magical. And the widescreen TVs showing movies as well as the restaurants and bars showcasing Kenyan delights that will make your journey that little bit extra special! With first-class cabins offering unrivalled service...
Pack your bags....
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Paprika allows me to misuse her assets...
some drinks and a smoke. You can say it gives a new meaning to fag
hag....
I enjoyed the ciggie afterwards - thanks for asking ;)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Racks & Balconies
with an old friend of mine here in London this afternoon and I
convinced her after some drinks to flash her ample cleveage.
Let me know what you think - there are more pictures, if you ask I'll
post them here...
I call her Paprika.
London's burning
at a business premises on Dudden Hill Lane NW10. Brings back
memories of that horrific Nakumatt inferno.
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