Introducing my first ever guest post ¤woop woop¤ written by my secret admirer, also known as @disaster103 on twitter follow him you may have seen his comments in some of my old posts. It took a lot of coercion, and many threats 🙂 but he delivered.
Disclaimer: The views below are his and his alone, feel free to throw stones at him if you disagree with his opinions. i must absolve myself from any liabilities 🙂
The author of this here lovely and glittery blog, a lovely lady by the name of Nkirdizzle who I have never met was sitting in her office while going through her morning stack of work (she works as the office eye candy somewhere in Nairobi.
…to be fair she does some office work but that’s listed under hobbies in her CV) and decided she was pissed about seeing my bumming tweets and asked me to do a post…wrong move Nkirdizzle.
Anywaaaaaaay I was thinking about what to write about and it finally ended up at either taking one of flipper bird’s former posts and adding a male twist to them using nothing but luminous red highlighters and some sticky notes but decided that’s too run of the mill and decided to be all original and do something innovative like and….wait for it….write a fresh new post!!! Yes feel free to take that off of the Guinness book of World spontaneity coz I done did it.
Ok two things (1)Am wasting time because I have no idea what to write about (2)If you didn’t sniff a hint of sarcasm up there….get a huge mug of coffee…seriously, for health reasons…mental health reasons.
So this blog focuses on love, celebrities, and declarations of how cool Fridays are…I love my mum, which takes care of the love part. (………) that takes care of the celebrities part so, Friday.
Maybe i’ll try the love category because Nkirdizzle thinks am pulling her leg when I say I don’t do love (honey when I pull your leg…you’ll know).
Love n. A deep ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude towards a person (or for white women and Oprah…really small dogs) such as arising from kinship, recognition of underlying qualities or a sense of oneness….
The above description is from Answers.com … ok now am pissed and suddenly this is going to be a long post. That description is either written by a) Martians b) Mexicans or d)Moon-ians just basically not anyone from earth( Mexicans aren’t from Earth…or don’t belong here anyway….we need soap operas as much as we need Global Warming right now) my point is, that definition is so so wrong thus this post will be about rewriting the definition of love.
So my first face-off with this mystery called love was in class 5, for those of you who didn’t do the 8-4-4 system of mis-education that’s like…..long ago. Her name was either Anne or Esther and I had been watching this stupid love flick with this other girl who is my neighbor and decided that i’ll try this love thing so during beak time on some random Monday (Monday!! Smh) I told this pretty girl that I loved her. Let me play the scene out for you…she used to sit in the seat in front of mine so when I told her that I love her she was leaning back, we froze like that for about ten minutes(seven seconds) then she got up and walked out of the classroom…now if I remembered what movie it is that I saw the love stuff I would tell you so you appreciate this scene better but in that movie the girl ran into the ladies room, cried herself a river and then came out and then told the guy she loves him. So am sitting here waiting on this girl to come out and proclaim her love for me and in walks….the principal with a mammoth ass whooping hot on his heels
…and an opportunity to have the class make fun of me for the next four months till I became prefect and got control of the awesome ‘kneel down’ powers…
From then on it was smooth sailing till…..last December( I still associate love with ass whooping by authority figures so I had to wait till I was bigger than all of the authority figures in my life) the second one was way messier than my first five minute love affair..nuff said.
Having ascertained that I suck at love nini nini I’ll tell you why I have beef with Answer.com’s definition…nay…description of love. If you ask a Kenyan mama what her ideal man is like the answer will range around this:
Kenyan girl 1: rich, tall, dark and handsome
Kenyan girl 2: light skinned, long hair, foreign accent, short and rich
Kenyan girl 3: smart, polite, romantic, rich, can cook
Kenyan girl 1887: cute eyes, can hold a conversation, rich, recites love poems for her when she is having her periods(wretch)
So basically there’s a trend over there…..no, not the fact that all female types in Kenya go by the title “Kenyan girl(insert number)”.
The formula for building up the perfect description of a dream guy for a Kenyan mama is something like this: something about the height, something about the skin color, rich, extra slot for something about breathe/eye color/finger nail length/*cough cough* length/(singing/cooking/manicure/pedicure) ability etcetera etcetera
So it is only logical to assume that the description of love will factor in the above stated formula(btw this is so my term paper in logic, am nailing his proper/deductive thinking like no one’s business). And now having given sufficient premises and guided you towards the inevitable inference because let’s face it, you’re kinda slow, we will together come up with a conclusion that will, I kid you not, be put forward to challenge the existing layman definitions of love…so here goes
Love n. a feeling of attraction between a girl(or a gay guy[see how un/non homophobic I am]) towards a rich person stemming from the fact that the rich person is rich and…possesses at least two other non-essential qualities.
Ok maybe the wording isn’t all that but in the end it’s one party with less money, attracted to another party with more money.
Let’s face it deep down we all know this is true except for Mexicans who fall in love with stable girls/boys in a span of + or – ninety 42 minute episodes.
So having done my duty it’s someone else’s job to contact Answers.com and deal with the rest coz currently am bila an email account having been locked out of mine (I feel homeless/orphaned/naked/underfed….ok the underfed part is a different thingy altogether but…)
So the moral of the story you ask? In Abdulahi’s words, ‘money talks, bullshit (and Mexican romance) walks’
So we work, get rich and get married, get kids, avoid divorces…and that dear readers is all the love there is in the world…that’s the dream, like what martin Luther King jr. was talking about.