Posts Tagged ‘women’


Posted: September 7, 2013 by ketihapa in Relationships
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The unwritten rule of life: Hold your child’s hand till you’re sure they wont fall when you let go

If you’re reading this one of three things has happened; one, I resigned my chairmanship of #teamMafisi and got married, or two, one of my mortal enemies found out where I keep my stash of condoms and decided to poke holes, or three, I discovered I could earn money by watching pornography then jerking off and selling my stuff. Whichever the case, the inevitable truth is that here you are reading this letter. Also, it means you’ve turned 18 today… Still, Happy Birthday son.

In truth though, this letter is more of a contingency plan. Not that I do not love you, because I do- my balls are rolling at the moment actually- Your birth may have averted the apocalypse. And now God is so pissed off He wants to send me to hell. Son, I refuse to be sent to hell. I don’t want to spend the rest of eternity telling Osama how his daughter was the bomb. That is the reason I had to make sure you reached 18 before you could read this letter and the reason I didn’t tell you before my untimely demise; because only then can I be sure that you’ve grown enough to handle what I’m to tell you.

So here goes. First of all ensure you have no gas leaks in the house- just a safety precaution because this letter will self-destruct in approximately five minutes if the lab results are anything to go by. That gives you roughly four and a half minutes to finish reading. Now, I need you to kiss the top right part of this letter with an X on it. Your saliva will contain sufficient DNA to reveal the rest of the letter.

Good. The fact that you can read this means that you are indeed my son and not the milkman’s. Sorry, I had to confirm. If you were born as a result of my supposed marriage to your mother or as a result of the holes in the condom (refer to the first paragraph), your mother still blames me for the tattoo on her butt. Marriage wasn’t exactly my idea son, I wanted to die a virgin. Then God said he’d grant me eternal life. I am sorry I had to turn down that offer as appealing as it was.

That aside, I’d very much like to know whom you’re dating before we go any further. Oh shit, wait. I forgot there’s no return address. Doesn’t matter. Coz guess whom I’m hanging out with!!!!!!


Don’t know about you, but I think this guy is just a dick. He brags how he invented the Ford, ati how his vehicles have perfect braking systems and superior engines even if they look ugly. Then to make matters worse, he once tried to criticize God ati how Women were God’s worst invention of all time. You should have seen his face when Jesus told him his invention is shit. Jesus simply pointed out, I’ll quote “My ‘HORRIBLE’ invention, granted, may have a rear end that protrudes too much and emits too much exhaust fumes when they’re asleep, but at least men still ride my invention to date.”

Crap, I just realized you have only two minutes left before the letter explodes. Anyway, back to the reason I wrote this letter, the contingency plan (sorry, I was waiting for the saliva to dry up). After your birth son, I might have glued your glued your mom’s vagina shut. I’m sorry, at the time it seemed like a good idea because apparently our milkman, Wanjala, was taking advantage of the increase in the price of milk to seduce your mother. The bastard was selling her milk for 10 shillings cheaper. But that’s not the point, to cut the story short, apparently it was God’s plan for Wanjala to seduce your mother and get her pregnant. And as we all know, it was the glued vagina that killed her.

Your mother was supposed to give birth to the Antichrist.

I know it’s a hard decision, but I want you to find the notebook your mother buried in the garden outside our house. In it you’ll find detailed instructions on how to invent a time machine. When I wrote it I thought it was utter gibberish but apparently Einstein thinks it was brilliant and that it just might work.

So will you build a time machine son? Your mother’s vagina depends on it.

And I think time should be up now, so I’ll need you to get rid of this letter very urgently or it’ll blow up in your face, and I mean literally.

Goodbye son. Remember, no matter what, I love you. The tattoo of your name on my butt proves it. (Seriously, they allow tattoos in HEAVEN!)

Yours faithfully,

Dad here resting in peace (LQTM).

P.S: When you build that time machine and unglue her vagina, please do me a favour and kill that idiot Wanjala, of course BEFORE he has sex with your mother. Or this letter will be pointless. I lied, it’s a fucking revenge letter.

P.S.S. You’ll get further instructions when you build the time machine, coz well, if you reverse time you’ll undo my death in the process as well and I’ll get to re-watch Kidero slap Shebesh. Neither of them will see it coming till it hits her.


Posted: December 11, 2012 by ketihapa in Alcohol, Crime, Ugly, Women
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My muggers saw the light.. but not this light. Sometimes, the light at the end of the tunnel is the headlamp of an oncoming train

A wince, followed instantaneously by a rapid series of blinks. I stumble onto a rock and almost lose my balance, but I lean against the wall just in time to avoid tumbling to the ground. Nevertheless, I still have enough eye-hand coordination left to light up a cigarette and not burn my fingers in the process. The head rush kicks in almost immediately and for the second time, I lean against the wall, with my back this time.

That’s when I notice the hooded man slowly making his way towards me. Alcohol, I know is supposed to make your mind foggy but not me. Alcohol is like rain. It makes all things look clear and beautiful actually- the grass, the flowers. I can only assume my neighbor doesn’t get rained on much though. Don’t get me wrong, I like her- the world wouldn’t be the same without her. You see, everything comes in twos; fear and bravery, male and female, light and darkness… I suppose there wouldn’t be beauty without ugliness either.

Anyway, my eyes are fixed onto the shiny, pointed object in stranger’s hand. It takes me a few seconds to realize it’s a knife and I try to run away but I know I’m walking in zigzags. Most people call it staggering. The hooded man has already picked up his pace, but I know in a few more steps I’ll be out of the dark alley and out harm’s way too. I don’t see it coming. An arm leaps out from the shadows and grabs me by the neck nearly choking me. I try to shake him off but by then, the hooded man is upon us, pointing his knife towards me. Words are not necessary- I am either getting mugged or raped. I silently pray it’s the former.

He reaches into my pockets and I almost thank him for not going for my zipper instead. He calmly removes my wallet but just then my phone starts ringing and I can almost sense a smile forming on his face. Bastard. He goes for my pocket again, this time fishing for my phone. It’s the man walking by with a torch that gives me my window of opportunity.

As soon as he sees the light (no pun intended), my assailant tries to find cover in the darkness and the man choking my throat loosens his grip in the process. I punch him hard in his belly with my elbow and throw him against the wall, which hits his head and he passes out. His partner lunges at me with the knife but he stops in his tracks when he sees the barrel of my gun staring him in the face. Poor bastards missed it and it was tucked under my shirt all along. Like before, there is no need for words.

He drops the knife in surrender and I force him to kneel down. He starts pleading for his life but I proceed to shove the gun on his head, making sure he feels the cold of the steel. He pees on himself and I almost burst out laughing with satisfaction. I retrieve my phone as well as all the money he stole, leaving him with just enough in case he’ll need bus fare to get home. Then, calmly, I stagger away and it’s all over in just under 10 minutes. Unless you’re gay, you can call me a badass.

Well, except, as you may have already guessed, that is not how the story ended. For starters, when my assailant grabbed me I lost the fight against gravity and I fell down, bruising my hand in the process. Nobody passed by with a torch and I did not kick or hit anything and they took everything in my pockets- my phone, wallet, cash, the remaining cigarettes, as well as my shoes and my bag. The keys to my place were in the bag, mind you, and I had no spare keys. And sadly, unless it was my entire lower abdomen that produced that much sweat in a minute, I may have peed on myself.

Regardless, three weeks later, I am now okay and over it so you do not have to worry about me. Worry instead about the fact that Someone gets mugged every ten minutes. Poor guy. Anyway, I am sure we all hate thieves, muggers and robbers; especially the armed ones… let me rephrase that. We all hate them, especially those with weapons. Of that lot, I personally despise muggers most; they make you pee. You got to hand it to muggers; they are… wait that doesn’t sound right. They don’t need you to hand anything to them, they just grab it. The most unfortunate of the lot on the other hand are thieves who steal clocks and calendars. If they’re caught, they face time, while those that steal calendars get 12 months. Get it? No? Moving on.

The worst of the lot, however, are women, who steal your heart then trample on it with no remorse when they’re done with it. I don’t blame them; a woman has to find a man who has money, a man who is great in bed and a man who adores her…. Finding all these three men, who should never meet by the way, is not an easy task. I have therefore vowed, for the last time this time, to take my studies seriously if I’m to get filthy rich in future and eliminate the need for a woman in my life.

On that note, I am now off to study as I have exams this week thanks to the lecturers that have selfishly refused to go on strike. Oh, before I forget, ladies- my bad, I mean Jimmie Gait- if someone offers you free tampons with absolutely no strings attached, don’t take them. It is a bloody bad deal…. Also, you’re an idiot if you call it being mugged when you’re hit with a huge cup.



Posted: March 20, 2012 by ketihapa in Death, Ugly, Women
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Shock-vendorYesterday, I posted a piece on the blog about how I believe the end of the world will be caused by a woman. As expected, I ended up trying to convince people how I am not gay and how I have no personal grudges towards women. What I really should have said is that I have no grudges and neither do I have any resentment either, just a conviction that is firmly rooted in my subconscious that women are not to be trusted. But that is a story for another day when the dust has settled. The real significance of the events of Yesterday is that everything and everyone is trying to prove me wrong- that women can be trusted. And I was on my way to healing and rehabilitation that I could indeed trust a woman for most part of today, except I nearly died in the process.

So I am waiting for a niece of mine in town, specifically at Kenya Cinema because I cannot condone people who tell me to wait for them at Ambassadeur or worse, “Niko kwa hii building ndefu ya white karibu na Tea room…”, phone in my hand and wary of everyone passing by just in case Linda Ogutu happens to pass by. Lord knows I have made enough fun of her side effects in the recent weeks. I log on to twitter to post a funny thought that just came to my mind but I stop midway in disbelief. Shock registers next and before I know it, I am gasping for air. I know I am now on my bus ride to hell. Let’s face it, no way in hell I of all people I’m going to Heaven. Isn’t my fault really, but what am I supposed to do? I am claustrophobic and since my Pastor did mention that road to Heaven is quite narrow so being realistic, I know I just… I can’t. The only good thing is I know I am going to collapse and die peacefully in my sleep like my grandpa, unlike the passengers in his car who died kicking and screaming.

In front of me, two women pass by. The first one is pretty and I’m tempted to think it is the love of my life, Julie Gichuru, except I know she doesn’t wear condom shoes. I make a mental note- or rather, I do quick calculations with one of my heads- I leave you to decide which- and decide she isn’t worth the sweat. It is the second one that almost does irreparable damage to my eyes and consequently my nervous system. The woman is dressed in things I cannot begin to describe as clothes. Shoot me dead before I concede they even resemble clothes. But that’s not all; she looks like a scene from the last episode of Spartacus. Not bloody, just unbelievable. Okay, and maybe a little bloody too. She literally has every color on the visible spectrum of light, which my learned friend Fabian believes is what Torres uses to confuse his enemies- apparently he kicks the ball so fast that the ball goes beyond the speed of light, meaning it is not visible as it goes into the net and we only think he missed the goal because we see the ball outside the net after it has slowed down.

Anyway, back to this woman. She has on her every imaginable color if you consider that her face is black as well- note, I said black not dark. Dark is beautiful. She is hideous. In fact, the only thing that looks okay is her mascara, whose color matches with her top. I know it is okay to be ugly, but she seems to be overdoing it. My heart initially goes out to her, filled with deep felt sympathy and pity. At this point I blame God for how she looks because he is the creator after all… But that is short lived because she stops when she sees me. I panic, but not enough to make me run away. She starts smiling and from this point I know I am not safe. She starts walking towards me, but my back is already pressed to the wall at this point. I can’t run away. “Victor…,” she starts and I freeze. She knows my name. I feel a sweat make its way down my spine and I imagine what the lad I trained a few weeks back how to get the hot women would say. I could pray for a bus to hit her at this point, but there are no buses in sight. So I start wishing that I could die. Then IT happens.

I don’t really remember what happened next but I can conclusively tell you that I almost died. Or so my niece tells me. Apparently I got so scared to death I fainted. Okay, in this case half to death because I didn’t really die. I call it my near death experience but now I am worried that the next time I get scared half to death again I will surely die if the algebra I learnt in school wasn’t a fallacy. My point being, because of a woman, I am now literally walking half dead. I am just glad the woman in question wasn’t around when I came to because you wouldn’t be reading this post. Also, don’t look around for any CCTV cameras in that area to see her. I took the liberty of pulling them off to spare your lives- and my dignity. I know realize that life is too short to not think carefully about what you wish for.

The Apocalypse

Posted: March 19, 2012 by ketihapa in Women
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Scene of the Apocalypse from the movie: Constantine, starring Keanu Reeves.

I never thought I’d say this, but a series of unfortunate events in the past few days have since convinced me otherwise. I despise women… No, in fact, I hate women! There! I said it! Now, before you start asking what the hell I’m yapping endlessly about, let me just say that all my misfortunes currently are directly attributable to these XX chromosome- bearing human beings. What more, I have also had a divine revelation that the end of the world as we know it will be caused by none other than these repugnant people.
Women are not just the beautiful creatures created by God meant to be our companions. Do not be fooled! Beneath those skins they endeavor so much to beautify with all sorts of toxic chemicals, self mutilations in the name of plastic surgery and nowadays not only herbs but also excrement from animals (one more reason for me to hate marriage, which I’ve never really understood in whatever context nor grasped it’s concepts), they are in fact hideous creatures sent by the devil himself to lure man into destruction.
Let me illustrate my point. You know about the Armageddon, don’t you? Of course, sure you do. The common theories put forward are that the Earth will be destroyed by a huge asteroid in the year God knows when, or that the Sun will blow up and blow the Earth along with it (??? Absurd!! You tell me!), and most recently, that our world will end in the year 2012 according to the Mayan calendar, even before I have had an opportunity to fill the Earth as God commanded me to do! I once heard that a large Alien force from a distant planet in search of greener pastures will in future wage war against mankind and will prevail, wiping out all mankind! Hahaha, I think Americans are some of the dumbest human beings on God’s green Earth! It is one thing to make a movie on aliens and to actually expect anyone in their sane mind to believe such gibberish! Besides, don’t you think it is a little funny how aliens are only sighted in America, never in Africa?
Anyway, that’s beside my point. We were talking about women being weapons of mass destruction. My theory is that the end of the world will be caused by a woman. Hush! Hush! First listen before you start discrediting my theory. Now, how will a woman cause the end of the world? Simple! A woman will make some blunder that will trigger the Third World War, which as you may have guessed by now will be nuclear in nature, effectively causing a nuclear apocalypse! Need I say more? The Earth will be wiped out of existence from the universe, along with the nine or so planets in the solar system. All that will remain will be the star commonly known as the Sun and there will not be a single speck of dust left to suggest that the Earth once existed.
Now, I know my theory has a few loose ends, but not to worry. I will try to tighten these up by explaining a few facts for you. Firstly, the Holy Bible does say that at the end of the world, there will be a great war fought by man, one that will be greater than any other that has ever been witnessed by men since the inception of time. My priest would probably punch me if he read this, but then the truth has to be said without fear if people are to be informed. And my main goal is to enlighten you, my dear friends. Or, doesn’t the Bible say, “My people perish out of ignorance!” Although the Bible does not say who or what will cause this disastrous war, it is safe to assume that a woman will be the culprit. Why? It is common sense that there are more women compared to men on Earth, and by simple arithmetic calculations, the probability that a woman will trigger the war is 7:1. For all I know, the much anticipated Antichrist might even be a woman! You know, the one that will allegedly cause MAN much suffering, force us to get grotesque tattoos on our hands and foreheads reading ‘666’ and eventually rule the entire world! God! This is even scarier to imagine than I thought!
Three of my very good friends have time and again branded me a sore chauvinist, and they will probably do it again and again, especially after reading this note, but I want to assure you that I am not. FYI, most of my role models are in fact women. I’m just doing what I think is right; sharing my knowledge so that you will be prepared for the end of days as I am. Now, my fellow men, should this revelation turn out to be in deed true, please don’t panic. Calmly prevent the end of the world by doing the right thing, impregnate all women at the same time. Trust me, it will work, our forefathers once used the same trick. However, on the other hand, should it not come to pass, please do not brand me a false prophet of doom. Rather, acknowledge the fact that this revelation came to me in my sleep and hence, it could very easily have been one of my many dreams that rival Steven Spielberg’s blockbusters. Till then, peace!

Disclaimer: the views herein expressed and explained do not necessarily reflect the true feelings of the author.