Sunday, February 27, 2011

Jesus & Judas (Go to Simba Soul)

The past week has been hellish. After George pronounced the death of our relationship I begged and begged him to forgive me and reconsider but it was soon clear his mind was made up. I even employed the diplomatic culinary persuasions of Imelda but still he would not budge. The way to this man's heart is definitely not his stomach. Contrary to what many people thought, this new chapter in our life did not mean that George was severing contact with me. Luckily for me, my ex (sounds weird to me, I think I'm still in denial like Gaddafi) has only moved across the hall into another bedroom. I feel sad but also happy that George was confident in the depth of our relationship to still count me as a friend for life if not part of the family. We've traveled a long bumpy journey together I just hope we can navigate this rough patch and emerge wiser if not patched up. Thankfully God exists because here in Nairobi we are enjoying excellent weather after the frightening rainstorms of just two weeks ago. To those of you in the northern hemisphere, let me tell you that I never knew warmer wall to wall sunshine nor powder-bluer skies. I'm looking around for a hammock; fingers crossed by the time I find one, George will agree to lie in it with me. After all what's the point of a hammock if you can't be uncomfortable in it with the person that you love?

I've coped with the breakup by working really hard on an interesting client brief which has meant paths crossing with brilliant people I previously worked with including bff Sheila. Motherhood definitely suits her, and my officially soon-to-be godson baby Matt is coming along a treat. We work till 10 pm most days, by the time I get home George is already tucked away in his room. I can tell he's waiting for me to come home because his bedroom lights only go out when I climb the last step on the stairs and open the door to what used to be our room. Thursday night I tapped on his door and whispered goodnight. Gee was quiet for like two minutes though I heard our favorite Ce'cile cd playing you when you're gone. Then he said slowly sweet dreams, honey! My heart skipped some beats to hear his sexy drawl, I think there's more than a spark there, perhaps still some smoldering embers. For now I just curl up naked in bed where George used to sleep, tossing and turning tortured that he's only sleeping next door. I cover my face with one of his t-shirts sniffing his scent and soaking away my streams of hot regret tears. With my old tattered Raymonds Polar Bear blanket from my childhood wrapped round the pillow I manage to fall asleep just before 3 am. It's not ideal and I'm beginning to notice that I'm not firing on all cylinders by mid-afternoon. If it carries on like this I'll get myself off to Dr Njenga's for a prescription to help me sleep easier. The project I'm working on has a lot riding on it leaving no room for stupid errors. I know some of you who believe in love and the fallibility of mere mortals (I'm not talking of you kasaperekarembo) continue to pray for me, so I hope it won't come to a psychiatrist's couch.

What of elephant-in-the-room, Lavish daughter of Maingi? Well, she sent me a package by G4S Courier the other day; yeah I was also surprised when it arrived given that company's recent local incompetence. Imelda signed for a set of 4 sumptuous boxer shorts in large made from 95% cotton and 5% Lycra. They are a snug, velvet glove-like fit, very much like how I remember her little manicured hands. I'm not veerry endowed in that department (I'm average, Imelda made a good guess, lol) therefore smooth little hands wrapped around my toolbox are always more than welcome but that's another story, hahaha. Also with the package was a carefully crafted personal message. L2mm dear, hope you don't mind me sharing parts of that letter, which I later shredded, with my readers. In it she surmises that I'm not really gay or even bi, she accuses me of exhibiting classic psycho sexual-predator symptoms by blowing hot and cold thereby creating dependence all for my gratification. It's not the first time I've being called that, btw. I on the other hand feel like I'm getting manipulated from different angles. Or to put it in sheng, naona kuna ujanja unago. Oddly enough I'm enjoying both the attention and deprivation equally - I can't work out what about these two very diverse creatures lights up sensual areas of my brain like fireworks.

Oh, Lavish pto'd her missive with the bombshell:I love you and I want to have your baby! It's all too much for me to handle. Tonight I'll just let my hair down, I'm heading off to The Simba Saloon with Sheila for some alcoholic beverages (dawa, anyone?) and nostalgic eighties soul music. You can find us canoodling - seated away from the crowd - in the 'Jo'burg' part of the club. I asked George if he wanted to join us he said he'll think about it but he hasn't given me a decision. We've just devoured a rather juicy water melon from the fridge together which is a good sign, I think know he'll come out too.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

I take responsibility for all my actions (I'm sorry)

I finally escaped from the delectable black widow-clutches of Lavish on Wednesday morning because she had to leave for Kilifi. For the first time since those events I was a bag of nerves over breakfast thinking about George and my squalid actions of the last few days. She remarked are you always this grumpy in the morning even after you've had your sweeties? I don't know why but Lavish in broad daylight was already beginning to grate on me. I said 'excuse me if I'm not giving you my full undivided attention but I think my lust for you almost certainly lost me the only man I ever loved completely.' I remembered a line from "Good Girls" that song by Joe - why are all the good girls taken everytime. Lavish paused to put the glass of orange juice down and said tell me it wasn't all worth it because you were more than a willing participant. We were sitting downstairs at the Thorntree cafe looking out where they are extending the sidewalks further out to Kimathi Street. She continued, 'look at me and tell me you never want to see me again and I'll walk away.' I was staring at her breasts, now covered in a lavender crisp business shirt, where I'd rested my head the previous night. I felt nothing. But she knew me a little bit better to be confident that having binged on her juice I could never forget her easily. A tear rolled down my cheek as we embraced bye bye yet my crucifixion was only just starting.

When I got home it was mid morning, the sky was a hazy blue from all the Nairobi sunshine but my skin was cold. George was not in which was fine because i assumed he was away at work. Imelda looked at me with an accusing eye when she came to meet me in the hallway, I said I'm sorry pal for causing so much pain; she just nodded as she handed me an envelope from George. It was a Valentine's card with the love message crossed out. On the other face he had written 'To the love of my life, Tamaku', then: 'You have broken my heart in a million pieces with your cruelty. I've gone away to Eburru to be with Ken and Mwangi. Don't know when I'll be back. ' Signed, Yours Gee, and he had drawn a smiley of a sad face. I felt that dull, cutting pain where my heart should be. My near-perfect world was exploding around me and I had only myself to blame. Well, myself and the intoxicating charms of one Ms Lavish Mwanaisha Maingi (L2M for short). Mostly self-inflicted because she hadn't tied me to any bed.

I'll be a liar if I didn't confess to you that I also felt a deep sense of shame. I had let George down and people that I thought were my friends some whom I met through this blog instantly became hostile. It's no exaggeration that from the slew of emails received I have become the most detested Kenyan gay blogger. Someone even threatened to slash my penis and pour lemon juice on the cuts before cutting my balls off and stuffing them in my mouth! I was stymied to discover how many people think they know what's best for me, thanks for the concern btw. Later that afternoon I picked up myself from the floor and called George. We spoke for ten minutes but all I remember is I was sobbing like a baby saying sorry, so sorry honey. George on the other end was cool, his voice emotionless, not saying much just that he would be back when he was ready.

So I spent the rest of the week in a state of mourning and depression. Somehow I did manage to put in some long hours in a project that I'm working on although my heart wasn't in it. Saturday night just before midnight Lavish called me from Kilifi, she said I see you've been writing about us because she discovered this blog. She said you'll make people think I'm a heartless bitch but I don't care much for the opinions of strangers. Then she said to guess what colour panties she was wearing and I replied baby, whatever colour it is, it must be on fire but I don't feel like the phone-sex thingy tonight. She said wrong answer; I'm not wearing any now. I called to tell you I must have you for myself soon or I'll die. I said baby you won't die, but please, give me some space because I have many issues on my plate that need attending to at the moment. That night I unwisely drunk myself silly in a vain attempt to assuage my tormented soul and fall asleep.

George finally came back home early Sunday evening. We had spoken a few times more but I wasn't getting through to him the way I desperately wanted. I was still unforgiven and from his tone I sensed I could soon be forgotten. How foolish had I been and for what? I feared I had traded true love and security for lust and heady adoration that had left me feeling unfulfilled. I knew that George needed me (which I like) while with Lavish I would just be a trophy (soiled goods really) or a plaything at best (which I'm not used to). Sorry Lavish, but are you really a keeper? Am I not just another conquest, a notch on you bed post? After George had his shower and changed his clothes we sat in the patio silently enjoying the breeze. The air was heavy with the tension then he just cleared his throat and my heart stopped:

'Tam, it's over between us.'

Saturday, February 19, 2011

My Valentine's Day & Night (Will I ever be forgiven?)

Continued from here:

I took a taxi to the hotel which was only 40 minutes. When I got to Lavish's room she opened the door and I dropped the suitcase inside, closed the door quietly and we kissed. She was wearing a long t-shirt and nothing else. It felt better and sweeter than the first time. Without saying a word I scooped her to the bed and we made love, she told me when I say no to you I always mean yes. Yes we made music, I finally understood what Chris Martin means on Paper Loving (Cardiac Bass Riddim) when he sings If you cyaan love me now, Don't love me later when my later is much greater...

We both cried real tears by the time we finished, that's how intense it was. I'm not saying that I'm a stud (far from it) or that Lavish is the best lover but it felt so special I even feel guilty telling you about it. Then we ordered room service and ate in bed. In fact we didn't leave the bed until Monday afternoon when we came downstairs to the Thorntree cafe. Over biscuits and tea lavish said Baby I told you I always get what I want. I didn't know what to say. I just said I think you reset my sexuality. She looked at me with her big eyes and took my hands in hers. Yes Tamaku, I was sent to reset your sexuality to straight and it will be set permanent at straight as long as I'm around. My head was spinning but all I could see was George's face. I told Lavish I love George. She said I know, because I met him when I came to your place and saw how you are together. She said I'll give you time to decide because I know you are mine forever. Then we went back to the suite, we made love again and fell asleep.

When we woke up it was almost six in the evening. The air in the suite was damp from the rain mixed with the sweet dizzying smell of sex and we had to get ready for dinner. I rang the restaurant that I'd reserved for George and me to cancel because I couldn't bring myself to go there with Lavish. Then I rang my old assistant Jemima from when I used to have a proper job, I said please superwoman I need dinner for two somewhere nice tonight. Jemima, bless her, called me back in ten minutes and said you have a table at Fogo Gaucho for nine pm. By this time Lavish was in the bath her face floating over bubbles so I joined her. She looked like a mermaid in the water, there are few women who are as beautiful as Lavish is. Because of that fact we made love again, we almost missed our reservation, lol! On the way to Westlands for dinner I called George. He sounded happy, I think he was tipsy. He said I'm at home with Imelda and her son we are having a Valentine's dinner. I said cool, I miss you guys, I'll see you tomorrow. So that's how Valentine's was - me and Lavish at Fogo Gaucho and then later at Black Diamond for some drinks and leg shaking. In the back of the taxi to Black D Lavish whispered in my ear, now that you've wined and dined me, are you going to sixty-nine me? I said you bet, later. My ego was turbo-boosted entering the club with this stunning woman. The guys in the club looked at me as if to say you lucky bastard and the Nairobi night girls looked at my date as if to say who let Cinderella out. I was thinking, wait till you see my boyfriend. Lavish that night was wearing vintage black Yamamoto lace, I told her if we get together with you I'll have to take out a mortgage just to buy your panties. Which is a big joke because Lavish has done very well for herself. She was so feminine like a china doll perfumed so irresistibly, seductive in waves of Vera Wang Princess. Even now sitting here all alone in the lounge watching KISS TV - Kenya's Greatest Entertainer 'talent' show where some hapless but sweet girl is murdering Britney Spears' I Was Born To Make You Happy, I can never forget that scent.

So to cut a long story short, I'm in a dilemma. Big time. I haven't seen George for the last four days although he's keeping in touch by phone. He told me he's taken our car to Naivasha with friends. Advice please!

Thursday, February 17, 2011

My Valentine's Day & Night

It’s been a while people, where do I start? Ok, let's go to the beginning which is always a good place to start. So I left London on Friday morning feeling physically refreshed but there were still some cobwebs in my head. Did I tell you about someone called Lavish? Of course I did and many of you weren't too pleased. Anyway, newsflash: she was more than a passing cloud! I'd been thinking a lot about her that's why we agreed with George that we take some time apart. Let me tell you nowhere like 39000 feet up in the privacy of a Club World pod to collect one's thoughts. But by the time BA 0065 landed in Nairobi I was still not clear in my mind what I wanted to do or who I wanted to be with.

George picked me up from the airport; I'd missed him so much. This man has a heart of gold. We hugged tight for half a minute until I felt something move down there, hahaha. Then he drove us home. I could tell he was so excited to see me, telling me about what's been happening. In my absence Imelda's son came to live with us now he's going to school. I won't write much about him because he's only a child.

That night after a quick shower and a light snack we went to bed. When we were lying there George said, so what have you decided? Is it me or is it going to be that woman Lavish? I said honey I can't just choose like that because I love you and I have these feelings for Lavish as well. He said people don't know how complex you are, I just want you to be happy so you need to make up your mind. And that's how the first night back went, cuddling each other in bed and talking for hours. But no sex, none of us even felt like it. We talked about how we met and how happy we've been together and also intimate stuff that I won't tell you because it's deep and only two people ever heard those whispers.

Come Sunday afternoon we were sitting in the lounge watching TV and my mobile vibrated. It flashed up 'LAVISH' and George saw it but he pretended like he had not seen it. I walked to the kitchen to answer the call. I felt something in my stomach from hearing that voice. Lavish asked, man have you missed me? I didn't make a sound. She said I know you missed me even if you don't say it because I'm a woman and we know these things. I found my voice and I said I missed you. Then she said I'm in town at the hotel, I want you to come to me now. I said let me think about it, I'll let you know. Then she said don't think because I'm waiting. Come now I’m waiting for you. Strangely, as she said those words I realized I was pinching my right nipple which was now quite stiff.

After the call ended I went back to Gee, he looked up and said I know you have to go but it's okay. He looked hurt and sad. I said honey I'm very sorry because I’m becoming a bad person. Then I went upstairs to our room. I packed my small wheelie Samsonite, I packed some underwear and socks and toiletries. I also put in a black Van Heusen dinner shirt and trousers and my autograph black pointy shoes. I knew I was spending Valentine's dinner away from George. I was going away to be with Lavish....

To be continued:

Monday, February 7, 2011

How to get laid in 7 days (Compressed)

Continued from here:

I’ve bowed to pressure and decided to release the whole course tonight due to people’s different schedules and the need to prep.

Suckrifices (sorry)

So you’re in the zone now. You’ll have to suspend booze and fags for the next 6 days because nothing like too much alcohol and nicotine to dampen libido and also stale beer breath is not a turn on. Eaten your three stalks of celery this morning? Good. Now you need to call your date and tell him/her that you’ve got major plans for next Monday. Try not to sound as if your life depends on it. Pick up the phone and calmly repeat after me: ‘Hi xxxx I know you want to spend Valentine’s night with me getting pleasured - I’ll pick you up at 8pm.' Never ‘Can I?’ but ‘I know‘. That way you'll have the upper hand in the game of love.

Here’s some Joe to get you psyched up

Grooming, etc

Day 3 of seduction training. Today is the day to get the killer hair cut. CK and ilk, ensure dye is the fashionable shade or get the secretary to pick up toupee from taxidermist. Don’t forget to shave the back. Order flowers and chocs.. Whatever you do, make sure they are getting delivered to Target’s office on d-day morning. You’ll score some serious brownies enough to get the panties/boxers peeling off effortlessly, trust me….on that note, enjoy some Prince AJ and Co but however weak you feel DO NOT COMPLETE. I know the girls look very hot.

Lube - check, rubbers - check…

Day 4. Bought the lube, massage oil and condoms? No harm in trying on ONE condom to make sure the fit is right…oooohhh, nowadays they even make some of them with silky lubrication INSIDE. Mmmmmm, throw away that one in the bin. Naughty, naughty, naughty boy you‘re going to have to do better than that. Anyway just three short days to go.

Believe in yourself & Oral Hygiene

Day 5. Please tell me you haven’t called Target again?! Nothing as off putting as coming across as too desperate, you must keep them keen and gagging for it. Today should start with the mantra, ‘I will get laid on Monday night, because Tamaku said so’, followed by a stretch and coffee enema. Do not try the latter at home though. It’s not just a question of getting the kettle on and some instant, lol! Also check there are no lesions on the tongue, if there are get down to Nakumatt quick and be od-ing on the Listerine or Corsodyl. Aaahhh. Good, I can ever see your molars. Now give the nips a tweak, you don’t want to be toooo desensitized. How about some Secret Garden.

Almost there....

Day 6. Absolutely no porn today, have an ice bath to cool that boner that threatens to take off like a rocket , lol…(will I ever be forgiven, lol). It’s too late to get checked out for herpes so banish the thought. Early to bed, early to rise. Nite, nite with KCI - Jojo All my life - sweeter than you. Yeah, tomorrow.

Completion, payback and da end (in Swahili known as kazi iendelee)

D-day: You haven’t done much work today. Dinner will be fantastic. It should because you’ll be poorer in a few hours. Later at your pad, phones switched off and a bottle of red while playing Secret Garden (again), lights dimmed. Don’t be shy - lean forward and get that tongue action going. Is that a mammary gland that’s not a relative’s which just popped inside your mouth? Have a gentle nibble then put your hand down there? Is it raining now? Lol. I told you this would be the night. Now who better than R Kelly to take you there….

How to get laid in 7 days (money-back guarantee)

This post is in response to the 'straight' dude who emailed me asking about tips on getting laid come Valentine’s. So I’ve risen to the occasion to assist in accomplishing the mission without telling him to resort to Rohypnol. Being irresistible is 90% of the time just a matter of confidence and planning, so let’s start this seven-day musical course to get things moving. Of course you’ll still need the usual money wasting accoutrements(flowers, chocolates, dinner and booze). Don’t forget the nice smelling underwear on the night and a pack of 3 ribbed durex - applies to everyone, BTW. Let’s start off with All Saints to get you in the zone. There’ll be a tune every night until Sunday. Follow this course and believe me, Monday night kaboom!

You’re welcome. xxx

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Decision Decisions Decisions - Help!

It’s nearing that time of year again when you MUST receive a card and at least a dozen blood-red roses or everyone in the office will conclude (rightly) that you’ve come to enjoy flying solo aka masturbation a little too much. Last year for Valentine’s, George treated me to an unforgettable night at a local restaurant. It cost him an arm and a leg, aaawww. Later we had some mind-blowing sex, nothing like it after a gourmet meal and a good Chablis. Oh, and he got me a prezzie as well. I figured this year I should do the treating.

At the moment I’m trying to decide which restaurant to book from here in the UK before I arrive in Nairobi later in the week because if I leave it till the weekend I’m not sure they’ll be any nice places left to go. If anyone has any suggestions please let me know either here or by email, it‘ll be much appreciated. I’m especially keen to hear from anyone who has tried Ole-Sereni or Rolf’s Place or even that new hotel in Westlands - Sankara. Restaurants I wouldn’t be seen dead in are the Carnivore (over-rated and so 90’s), Moonflower (bland food with eye-watering bills) and Trattoria (shouldn’t this place be taken off life-support?). I don’t mind, ahem, a complimentary from those establishments though, just to check out whether things have improved, hehehe. God, I’m so corrupt! This time I’m feeling braver unlike last year so we’ll definitely be out on the night with all the other lovebirds. Nothing in the law that says two men can’t enjoy a candlelit dinner on Valentine's. So, just looking for somewhere special with nice food and great ambiance that will guarantee me at least a week of sex afterwards.

George honey - if you read this post please try and act surprised when I take you out to dinner, ok sweetie?

Friday, February 4, 2011

My fellow Kenyans, this is why sometimes I feel suicidal

Prof Anyang Nyong’o is a Kenyan Cabinet Minister responsible for Medical Services. The Vision and Mission at the Ministry are ‘To be an efficient and cost-effective medical care system for a healthy Nation’ and ‘To promote and to participate in the provision of integrated and high quality curative and rehabilitative services to all Kenyans.’ Many Kenyans will tell you that those words are just a mirage of hot air rising from the arse crack of a civil servant. Hence the irony of Prof Nyong’o’s personal situation in an interview where he speaks candidly about his fight with prostate cancer in a world-class US treatment facility.

I wish the Minister well because I’m not heartless and I like to think that there’s some compassion still left in me. However I can’t help screaming: What hope is there for suffering Kenyans who can’t afford to pay for a costly evacuation abroad should they require specialist Medical Services?

Oh silly me! What kind of emotional question is that? I forgot that God helps those who help themselves.