Feed items

Now, where were we? Oh yes. Cont’d. posted on March 18, 2010 - 1:39pm

Where were we? Yes…
1. What’s worse than your boss telling that he has had to make a very tough choice and that he is afraid he’s going to have to let you go?
Your boss telling you that the reason is that he can’t work with you AND sleep with your wife at the same time.

What’s worse than hearing that your favourite FM radio presenter is leaving your favourite station to go to work in Nairobi?
Jimmy Jones 75.
What’s worse than hearing your boyfriend on the phone throwing lyrics to another girl?
Hearing your boyfriend on the phone throwing lyrics to another guy of course. That one was obvious.
What’s worse than arriving at the office cafeteria at 12:30 because you were THAT hungry and when you get there you find that Maama Mmele isn’t going to show up because she has gone to help out at Kasubi Tombs?  She has taken all the food she cooked there to feed the distressed Baganda who have camped at the tombs to mourn. As for you there is nothing to eat.

What’s worse I posted on March 17, 2010 - 5:48pm

What’s worse than seeing the driver in the speeding taxi you are trapped in whip out his mobile phone and start a conversation?
Hearing him say: “Yo, Iguana was off the hizzle last night, nigga! Fly bitchez was wall to wall, for shizzle. Nigga we was popping Tuskers like muhfuckin mineral water, son. I’m still blazed, I swear. Seeing double just!”

(more on this story as it develops)

Public Service Announcement for Women’s Day. posted on March 9, 2010 - 2:55pm

Man speaks in gruff voice: You womanny. Go in da chichen and pulepare supper. Harrap! And I don’t catch you eating a gizzard otha waise allo subject you to abuse such as: phyico, mento andi even emotiono!

Woman: My husband, don’t you know dat I havu rwights enny-shrined in da conschushonny? Moreso today, which is International Wemenny’s Day, da day to commemolate da achiements of da wemanny and cerebrate our mansipationny.

Man: Is it turue?

Woman: Yes. Join us in cerebrating the cause of wemeny mancipationny.

Man and Woman together: Together we can do mowa.

This was a public service announcement brought to by my idleness.

The Cousin of Death posted on March 4, 2010 - 2:06pm

P. B. Akiiki

In the latest song by the Grammy award-winning singer-songwriter Alicia Keys (a.k.a. Praise Birungi Akiiki, if you prefer to use her birth name and not her better-known stage pseudonym) she appears to be suggesting that listeners “try sleeping with a broken heart.”
This should not be taken at face value. Because she is saying it Ironically.
Ironically is something some Grammy Award-winning songwriters do where, to emphasise a point they make it appear as if they are advocating for the opposite. Common examples are Eminem, who really loves his mummy vewy vewy much, and Jay-Z, who finds New York crowded, noisy and full of rude people.
What Akiiki actually means, therefore, is that it is very difficult to sleep with a broken heart.

The Revolution. Man Shawls! posted on February 26, 2010 - 5:51pm

On Monday, when it rained all day and was as cold as the evil and mean as your cruel little heart, there were reports we heard that men had been sighted on Kampala streets wearing shawls.
I don’t know where they got those shawls. It is my hope that they did not buy them for themselves, but rather, that they stole them from women they live or work with.
At last men have found the courage to break free from the oppressive societal brainwashing system that has kept us cold and freezing.
Too many times I have walked these mean streets, these damp, cold streets, freezing and  dying inside. Without an ass. The ass lies abandoned on a floor somewhere because, well, it has been frozen, as expected, off. Have you ever tried to walk without an ass? Not easy.
I don’t want to brag, or maybe I do, but this was actually MY idea. I started this gangsta shit…

Two words: Man-shawl
August 2007

Wait. Think about this first. Let’s think about this.
What are our alternatives?

The Other View posted on February 23, 2010 - 4:34pm

Darlkom recently blogged some delightful photos of Kampala Road at Dawn. You can see them here.
After she did that, I found myself with a bit of time to waste. So, presenting, things you don’t see in Kampala at Dawn because you are asleep.
1.

Godzilla.

2

A spaceship. The Starship Enterprise, no less
3.
Who watches the city at dawn?
4.

Women picking up guys. Sibyangu posted on February 19, 2010 - 7:42pm

Her:  So, do you come here often?
Him:  Yes I’m afraid so. I have a drinking problem.
Her: Well, it’s my first time here. I must say, so far I am beginning to like it.
Him: Oh. Well, I am not the waiter, in case that’s what you were thinking.
Her: Of course you’re not. But that doesn’t mean you can’t serve me.
Him: I am afraid it does. They are very strict about who gets behind the counter.
Her: I tip generously.
Him:  Should I call a waiter?
Her: Forget the waiter. Tell me, so, what’s your name, handsome?
Him: No, it’s not hansom, it’s Geoffrey.
Her: Is there a Mrs Geoffrey?
Him: No, women don’t take to me for some reason. I just can’t seem to ever get any attention from them. No matter what I do.
Things are getting desperate now. This dwanzi is not clicking. Time to spell it out.

Her: Geoffrey, would you like to have sex?
Yeah, but with who?

Movie night at Church posted on February 18, 2010 - 2:06pm

Pastor Mar’n Sempa is known not just in Uganda, but all over the world as one of the leading entertainers in the field of homophobia. Other homophobes are blatant and simple, but not Sempa—Sempa is an acrobat, a maestro, a man who wields his hatred as an abstract artist wields his brush. That is to say, often you will not understand the details of what is being portrayed, or why or how or even if at all, but you get the general point.
Now, you don’t get to the top by being complacent. You have to constantly find new ways to practice. Innovation is essential for survival in his profession, and that’s what Sempa is really good at.
This week he astounded us all by revealing a move that is as audacious and stunning as whatever the hell that shit was Picasso used to do.
Oh no he didn’t!
Oh yes, he did.
If this does not destroy homosexuality forever, I don’t know what will.

Verbatim Vs Verbatim In The Aftermath posted on February 8, 2010 - 6:59pm

In which our  hero is visited by our villain one afternoon.

Baz…
Yes, Lizzie.
Baz…
Yes?
Baz?
What do you want?
It’s 3:00pm. Put on a pair of fucking sunglasses. Hah hah! But you Ka-man, your ki-blog post about R.Kelly was so funny. I read it and I laughed so hard I shook all the ribs in my little torso.
….
Well, say something. Don’t be rude. When someone compliments your work, you should reply in some way or the other. I recommend replying bashfully in my case. You know I am a very hard woman to impress, so if I say that I liked something you wrote you should be very humbled.
The thing that tied my tongue was not a lack of responses to comments about my work. It was the spectacle of you, a creature so young and small that you don’t even remember hotmail, let alone a world before gmail, suddenly spewing such dirty words.
What language? What dirty words? R.Kelly? Don’t be so judgemental. It’s the man who is obscene, Baz, not his name.
How do you even know who R.Kelly is?

Would you believe this? posted on February 2, 2010 - 7:12pm

Deleted above is the reason why days I why I work late into the night these days. I be doing very secret but very very very awesome things that I will stop short of describing here because, well, it’s for your own safety. The less you know.
So I was up at two-thirty am on Saturday morning when there was a knock on the door.

I’ll stop here to elaborate for my friends who are just joining us from Kololo. Here in Uganda people don’t have bells at gates that are rung to alert them of visitors. Here in the third world visitors stride right up to the door and, because there is no bell, they just utter these little punches on its surface.

And this is what happened.