Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
When the garage doors opened, I ripped off the blindfold and George put my prezzie in my hands, I laughed so hard when I saw it and gave him a big wet kiss. He won’t thank me for telling you this but when I looked at him next tears were streaming down his face just like our first time together. I knew he was crying for joy because I know giving makes you very happy. Here’s a photo of my prezzie, it’s a lovely toy bike made out of wire and customized for a gay Kenyan. It now has pride of place in the study. I feel just as if I got the real thing.
On my part I baked George a chocolate heart-shaped cake which he’s saving for our first anniversary. I tell a teeny-weeny lie, it's actually Imelda who baked it but don’t tell him, besides he’s getting all that special loving all to himself, lol!
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
But I am now getting the jitters about our future here. Can you imagine by how many notches things will ratchet up when the ICC (for criminals, not the cricket one) names those it wants for masterminding Kenya’s post-election violence? I bumped into a former client who was out being walked by two untrained Jack Russells in our estate on Wednesday evening. She told me that her multinational head office have put on hold indefinitely investments earmarked this year for Kenya. Even the muscled guys who were laying the fibre-optic cable outside our street have left and no one knows when they’ll be back, so unfair.
It comes as no surprise that investors are getting weary of the seesaw within what looks like a rudderless government. There’s ground swell sentiment in business circles that come 2012 political temperatures in Kenya are forecast to reach flash point bringing a freeze to any meaningful growth (if not a drastic downturn) in the economy. I don’t doubt my credible sources because I can’t see any way out unless the two principals learn to rein in amoral associates and dampen their own egos. Surely only fools keep wagging dogs and then bark themselves. I also thought, lucky you Sheryl to have such robust options on the table, it must be very comforting to know you can always jump on BA with your neurotic pooches and leave behind the potholes and the mad matatu drivers, but you’ll miss the weather and the servants though.
I’ve almost lost faith in the way things have suddenly span out of control: why not let the anti-corruption commission do it’s job (yawn, don’t answer). Did I hear you say commission of inquiry to investigate? I thought not. And the police - are they too busy jailing hookers, raiding residences of suspected homosexuals, shooting pickpockets and tear-gassing innocent protesters - is detective really such a dirty word to them?
We must never become inured to the rot in our public institutions. I don’t wish to be a prophet of doom and I’ll do my best to remain optimistic but at the moment all I can see are dark clouds gathering over the horizon. By the way, words of advice to Kuyu Hellon: three’s a crowd, like in this other saga, unless it’s a trio. Plan thy revenge.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Tonight I wanted to say how much I really appreciate your great company and although I sometimes do push the boundaries you guys don’t really seem to mind too much. I’m sure you know by now that I’m never going to hurt even a fly. Therefore, good people, here’s to the next God knows how many more posts (and vids, sorry!)…chin chin everyone, bottoms up.
By the way, I’ve considered putting a paypal button on this blog ‘cause I know some of you would like to buy me a drink or two, especially now that I’m unemployed, but I don’t know how to go about it. If it's any consolation I promise to kiss you all on the mouth should we meet, I'll even shut my eyes. Deal? Deal.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
We are just going out for dinner, George's treat. It's early but we both prefer tonight for our Valentine's Day date. Tomorrow could be trickier for a gay couple seen having an intimate dinner in this town. Not that I'm afraid or anything....
Have a great time whatever you do. Love ya xxx xx
Anyway in the course of my research I also discovered a place in Nairobi that offers IVF treatment. I just typed into google ‘nairobi ivf baby cooked in oven’ (as you would) and that was the top result. And I also discovered other such facilities in wonderful places like South Africa and India. I’m so excited but all I can say at this point is that I feel a whole new world of possibilities has opened up for us. Hint: Arrival of Tamaku Jnr may involve a lesbian friend.
Since you are now like family, and always so nice to me (unlike some people) you can all be uncles and aunts…
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
My wonderful George, who is now sitting at my feet on the floor watching a good bootleg copy of City of God as I type this (oh, the irony), is like a Lexus LS460 with heated leather seats, warm and a joy to cuddle but he can make your ass sweat when he’s in the mood. I think I’d say I’m more like the 'humble’ Avensis, good thrust when needed and with a decent trunk which shuts well, lol! Which reminds me - George wrongly says I like to wield power around here. I don’t know whatever gave him that impression but I don’t mind so long as he does what he’s told. And forget all that nonsense about gays having faulty 'brakes', take it from me nothing wrong with our 'brakes' after many miles on the clock never had even one skidmark…
Ok, mmmmm, now let’s see if I can pick on a couple of lovely fellow bloggers and pair them with a suitable model of Toyota: In my mind I think Shiko-Msa is like a red Toyota Solara with the top down cruising through Mama Ngina Drive on a hot afternoon, classy and interesting ;) while Rox is like a canary-yellow Toyota Supra in 17-inch gunmetal rims and tinted windows, distinctive and fun (NOT a euphemism for easy by the way, hehehehehe. Dear sweetie, Rox, darling, sugar, honey please don’t hit me). Let me stop there before I get myself in more trouble than I already am. Hahahaha…
The Malawi authorities have told gay activists who put up posters and distribute leaflets on the streets anonymously to "come out in the open".
Government official Kingsley Namakhwa said it was against the law to mount such campaigns anonymously.
But he also pointed out that homosexuality was illegal, and anyone promoting it would be prosecuted.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
So we drank me brodah Theo’s booze (lots of it, remember I don’t have to get up and go anywhere these days) and gorged ourselves on among other delights boiled quail eggs (from that lady doctor over in Lavington). I need to get off my fat ass and make better use of my membership at Parklands Sports Club to get back in shape like the hottie I aspire to be. Incidentally Theo’s mid-thirties, handsome in an African Forrest-Gump sort of way, athletic and a scientist who lives alone with two cats in a beautiful bungalow. Just the kind of guy you shouldn’t introduce to your boyfriend because you should keep him all to yourself, lol. There are some things about Theo that scream iko matata hapo mbele (trouble lies ahead). It was the first time we’ve been to his place, we normally meet while taking walks in the evening and just wave. We both assumed that Theo was straight but after an hour in his house I set my gay-o-meter to alert mode.
Here’s the evidence that set those alarm bells ringing:
- Straight alpha-male ( Theo) in lush dreadlocks invites two male neighbours who live together and are obviously a couple (in love) to his house to watch a game of football. Unfair home advantage springs to mind.
- Straight man then sprawls on the floor of immaculate home drinking lots of lovely alcohol, moisturised footballer-legs wide apart (slut) wearing only a tiny pair of mauve Ralph Lauren shorts (displaying what looks like a yummy overstuffed wrap-sandwich), fingers lazily stroking away silky navel pubes while flaunting naked tight six-pack abs (who does he think he is, Tyrese? Why‘s he gonna act like that?)
- Straight man’s pumped man titties on show are just crying out to be tweaked as he lies on that super-soft luxurious sheepskin made from at least three innocent Molo lambs (poser).
- Straight man arranges napkins on rustic teak coffee table in the rose fold.
I kept a beady eye on Theo whenever he rolled side to side on the rug as he stretched a pedicured foot playfully catching George’s calf with a ’free-kick’ (surely a bookable offence) every time the ref blew the whistle…..like he himself wanted to blow something else....puhleeze!!
Friday, February 5, 2010
So there he was, standing in dusty shoes and wearing a mismatched suit which are sure signs of the Kenyan billionare, wobbly belly swaying over cantilevered trouser-belt which is the third sign of Nairobi's obscenely wealthy. I was wondering how much money you'd have to get paid to sleep with someone like that (zillions at least) or how much alcohol do you have to imbibe before you can do it with the lights on. Meanwhile his short, chubby but surprisingly athletic fingers (It's not the size of the finger that matters, but the size of the ring. Lol, big fat lie!) were banging away to the annoying crescendo of the note counting machine as he transacted small fortunes across multiple accounts, setting up standing orders, getting bankers' cheques and just for good measure he also drew a few hundred thousand 'to pay the workers, haha ha ha'. I even saw him slide the cashier a couple thou, for lunch. The people in the jittering lunchtime queue were far from impressed. BTW, my bank offers me teas and coffees while I'm waiting but nowhere to powder my nose, where is the sense in that?
After 'beached-whale trucking mini-waterfall-cascading-down-the-crack-of-bum (lovely sweat, mmmm)' waddled out of Barclays the young woman behind me muttered: 'These sad men who want people to notice them - it's all about the size of the cock!'
Just be yourself, you are somebody and the world belongs to you too. Glenn Jones
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
But now I'm at the point in life where I can't be bothered with doing stuff just to please people. So I'm not going to stop wearing fishnets or listening to Madonna and I'm definitely not going to start walking around like a gorilla on steroids.
I'll just be me.