Posts Tagged ‘Justin Beiber’

Yayha Jammeh, the self proclaimed king of Gambia that cures AIDS

It’s my phone ringing that wakes me up. I’m a little buzzed but clearly not drunk enough because I still have the capacity to know it’s 2 am. I’m also fully aware I have the right to reject that call but out of curiosity, I check who’s calling. No Name. I remember her vividly, No Name. We met at a club earlier on before I decided I’d had enough and called it a day. She’d given me her number, but as usual, I managed to forget her name, hence No Name in my phone book. Begrudgingly, I pick it up; again, out of curiosity.

“Joe, I need your help. Please. I’m in jail and I need cash to bribe the police. I’m desperate and I don’t know who else to call…”

Well, at least she remembers my name; the made up name I told her that is. At this point, I realize I have a stupid decision to make. It’s fine by me if she wants the D; but why on Earth would I in my right mind go to a police station drunk in the first place? It’s way past Mututho time. Not that it matters, Mututho stated I shouldn’t have any more drinks after 11, which technically means I can drink up to 10 drinks, right? Anyway, at this point, I’m pissed off. More at CCK than at myself for giving a drunk gold digger my number. If CCK had kept their end of the deal, hell, none of this would be happening. I probably gave her my number with full confidence that at 12.00 am 1st October her phone would be switched off. Bastards.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure I know anyone who’s phone has been switched off. In my honest opinion, I think it was a scam to get people to finally buy new phones. I assume No Name has probably not paid her Okoa Jahazi debt and Safaricom have instructed CCK to wait till their debt is settled. Or maybe she downloaded the app from China that supposedly prevents your phone from being switched off. Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that phones whose vibrations are louder than their actual ringtones that are made in Thika Road are still on.

I decide to play FIFA 13 so that I can sober up enough to make the stupid decision I know I still have to make. Ok, technically, I’m using No Name as an excuse to play FIFA at 2 am. Yeah, I guess I’ll forever be alone. But hey, on grounds of common sense I refuse to commit my life to a person who spends more time thinking about what men think than the actual amount of time I actually spend thinking. So, don’t judge me if I prefer to play FIFA and drink instead. In fact, FIFA 13 is so realistic, if you start your career mode with Joey Burton you start from jail.

2.47 am and I still haven’t decided yet whether to be the knight in shining amour for No Name. Somehow I decide to call her and ask what police station she’s been taken to. Thika. Great; just great. I hate Thika police station. It’s the same place my pals and I were locked up in for allegedly trying to rob an ATM machine. We were drunk, mind you. Policemen sure do know how to over-estimate people’s abilities.

To be fair, they have made a few right calls over the past few weeks; more specifically, Waititu’s case. It was a good decision you will all agree with me, to arrest a politician who seems to forget that hate speech is exactly what caused the Post Election Violence back in 2008. In fact, the 2 million cash bail he paid is not enough to repair the potential damage he may have caused. I presume his role model is probably a moron like him, like say, Yahya Jammeh, the Gambian president. The idiot claims he can cure AIDS if he kisses you and as a result, he should be made King. Which King executes people by firing squad?

Anyway, I decide this saga has gone on for far too long and that it’s about time I ended it. I have made up my mind to tell her that I am sorry I lied to her. I am not a teacher and I do not have a Ksh 13.5 billion salary increament backdated to July. Also, my uncle is not Kenyatta and that the money I used to buy drinks with was my HELB that has since been spent on drugs and other related activities. However, just then she calls back and tells me she’s been bailed out by a friend of hers who knows people and she appreciates all the help I was planning to offer. Also, I shouldn’t call her in future. She hangs up.

I’m seething with rage. I’m not sure why. But I assume it is the kind of rage Baraton University students had to dare to go on strike because they were being graded based on Church attendance. Brats. If someone gave me the opportunity to quit reading and get marks instead of going to church I’d gladly do it. I’d even get saved. Ok, maybe that I wouldn’t do, but seriously! At least UoN students had the decency to give absence of lecturers as a reason for setting up a strike within a strike. Inside information however indicates they went on strike to demand that the lecturers’ strike be prolonged- someone on Twitter called it Inception.

Again, I check the time. 3.40 am. Perfect. Now I have one less booty call whose name I still have no idea and my sleep is gone. The only good thing is that in Gay.K.U.A.T people never sleep and I’m sure I’ll find some party with more Dicksons than Punani to crash and I’m sure there’ll be free alcohol. Good thing I was in bed fully dressed, or Commando, as some of you would call it. And if I don’t I’ll just bask in the glory of knowing that Justin Beiber vomited on stage during a performance which proves she’s pregnant.

Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Eric Stonestreet who act as a gay couple in the popular T.v. comedy 'Modern Family' as Mitchell and Cameron respectively.

Haha, relax. I am not trying to kill myself. But this post is and I am sure so will you after you read it. You see, a few months back, in my usual alcoholic escapades, I met a guy who narrated to me his story. He told me how he had been looking for a job and how when he was about to give up all hope, he finally landed one as a Shamba Boy. It wasn’t a prestigious job per se, but the benefits that supposedly came with it were incredible. The job was simple; tend to the little garden at a guy’s house for Ksh 20,000 per month. If he showed his commitment by staying on the job for at least a year and a half, he would get a car and a house. Not bad for a Shamba Boy, right? Sadly, he quit before he even started the job. In my head, he was a dumb ass; in Kenya getting a job with a tax-free salary and guaranteed job security is a hustle. Then the story got nasty…

He promptly moved to his new employer’s house, which as he learnt, was shared by three men and a lady. It was all fun till it was night; he heard strange noises originating from the bedroom. This he didn’t exactly mind, so people have orgies here, big deal. He didn’t really care; he was there for the money. That was until he woke up in the middle of the night in nothing but his boxers and no recollection of how he wound up in the bedroom, next to his employer. I mentioned his employer was a man, right? And he may or may not have participated in gay sex; his memory was hazy. I nearly died with laughter as he recounted his Steven Spielberg type of escape.

Till I found myself in the Jeevanjee Gardens smoking zone on Wednesday, that story was a figment of my memory. My cigarette was nearly burnt halfway when some dude walked up to me. In my head, I knew he wanted to borrow one; smokers are generous people. I gladly offered him one so he’d leave me alone. He didn’t. Now he was staring at me funny. So I asked,

“Man, what the hell do you want?”

“YOU.”

I laughed. Then I realized he was serious when he started walking closer to me with a sheepish grin on his face. In truth, till then I had no idea I could run that fast- I thanked the fast food I had just had for lunch. I need not tell you that I quit smoking for the third time this year that day.

I have since called it a divine intervention to make me quit smoking for good; the only logical way I can really explain it is that God works in strange, mysterious ways. Like how he guided the Jews under Moses in the desert for 40 years only to bring them to the one part of Asia that has no oil. You see, I am homophobic and I bet God knows since He is Omniscient. I am not proud of it because I know it isn’t their fault. 75% of them don’t choose to be gay; only 25% of them are SUCKED into it. Most of them are born that way. And that is the reason I wrote this post. And since I know how controversial this post is going to be, I have decided to walk a mile in your shoes first before I criticize anyone. That way, if any one of you retaliates, I am a mile away and yes, I have your shoes.

I’m sure you remember Prison Break. In my opinion, it was one of the best jail breaks of all time after the one in the Shawshank Redemption. True, it had an unrealistic story, but it was brilliant. My love for it was so great that I loathed the directors of Prison Break for not making the main character, Michael Scofield, gay. I am sure he wouldn’t have been that enthusiastic to run away from Fox River State Penitentiary if the stories they tell of prison are anything to go by. The only way to punish a gay man is by sending him to a female prison. In short, it would have allowed the show to last a couple more seasons longer.

Wednesday’s events got me to reconsider. Prison Break with a gay Michael Scofield wouldn’t have worked. I wouldn’t even have watched it to start with. I am biased towards gay people, as are most of you I am sure. And for no particular reason mind you. According to the Bible, God once burnt down an entire city because most of its occupants were gay, which gave us the word sodomy. My question being, how many of you have been sodomized to start with or do you just make gay jokes for the fun of it? How many people have valid reasons to loathe gay people? As I mentioned before, most of the time, a genetic or a hormonal imbalance produces gay symptoms. You don’t just wake up and decide a man’s butt looks edible.

Gay people are human too. But I suppose it wouldn’t mean much to you if you haven’t seen how much suffering most of them go through; don’t start making jokes like “if sex is a pain in the ass then you’re doing it wrong”. This is a serious matter. A friend of a friend committed suicide after it was discovered he was gay. I don’t know how many more have to die before we accept the fact that like whatever the genre of music Souljah Boy invented, some things are here to stay. Call it what you want, it is the truth. Jimmie Gait, Justin Beiber and the age of Skinny Jeans tucked into Pink Supras are evidence enough. In fact, all sweet, nice and handsome men are already taken. By their boyfriends…

I am not saying that people should be gay; all I am saying is that it makes sense to be accommodative of them because they are here to stay. Hell, they even make good Army Generals; even in war, they just can’t leave their friends behind. My pastor always said, “Jesus loves you no matter who you are” and I agree with him. However, be cautious WHERE you are told that “Jesus loves you”. Apparently in Mexican and Spanish prisons, if a person tells you, “Jesus loves you!” my friend, please be afraid. Be very afraid. Anyway, now I am off to find a noose to hang myself with as I am pretty sure this post has definitely done the same thing to my budding career as a writer.