The world is shrinking very fast, I think it is now almost the size of a molecule! How else can you explain how small the world is?!!
On one of those rare Thursdays that I decided to grace Rezorus with my awesomeness, I met a group of tweeps there catching a drink. I knew a few of them and they proceeded to introduce me to the rest of the group. I spotted my good friend’s older brother among them and he turned out to be Milonare, what are the odds!!!!
You know how Smitta Smitten of the Pulse Magazine has some funny lingo which makes his articles impossible to read and understand?? Well Milonare has his own special lingo, and his Milologue is funny and cool, and when you are reading his stuff you just feel like jotting down some of his lingo and unleashing it to your friends. His use of imagery would make his English teacher proud.
Check out the adventures of Milonare on his blog Me I LOve NAirobi Regardless
I love how he does that.
Crazy Chronicles 1 – A Friend in NEEDY
Crazy Chronicles 1 – A Friend in oNE instancE a Devil eventuallY
My third and fourth years of campus were awe-cuffin-some. The folks had decided to buy a Starlet for my bro and me. Given he was kinda indisposed, hey presto, Milo was mobile… I used to be a part-time teacher at a certain college that stressed its dress-code more stringently than a k-street peddler drawing thick lines where her eyebrows once flourished. Thus I had an income that allowed me to fuel the car, afford loose pints almost daily and purchase the latest designer wear from MackFree. It also enabled the pimping up of the aforementioned Starlet with the Booms and Twaffs that were the rave back then.
Much as we were friends with Obamba them days, my main wingman was the lady-magnet iGee. Now iGee was extremely humorous and quick-witted and this ensured he harvested a minimum of 5 numbers each time we would hang out. The plan was simple: I provide the wheels and pints, he provides the luscious, giggling damsels… Majority of the time this would work well, 3 of the 5 ensnared prey would be down for him, 1 would get impatient and leave, and 1 would undergo Milofication stages One through to Four. We had a synergistic relationship.
However, when human wastage would hit the machine using an electric motor to rotate thin rigid vanes in order to move air, it would really hit that machine… I remember that day as if it were just yesterday:
Shanyc was a real looker. Brown, silky skin uuwi. Lithe figure, gurudumu flawless, more cushi’n for the pushin’… Problem was, this young dendai was seemingly down for whateva. First come first serve, come one come all, offer valid while stocks last… Seemingly.
Nether from which she Came
Can’t quite remember how we met her but somehow we ended up driving to pick her from her place one Saturday night. Leafy suburbs, leave your ID at the gate, sign in sign out. As we approached her gate, we remembered her strict instructions to drive up, flash our lights twice, then reverse and park a few metres away by the side of the fence. There was a rustling sound from the fence and who emerges from the darkness; Shanyc… As in she burrowed her way underneath the Kei Apple fence, I kid u not! Like a mole (a hot brown dum-dumious mole, but a mole nonetheless). Dunia ina mambo…
She jumps in and we are off to Crooked Cue. We had an arrangement with the watchies outside Crooked and so we would buy pints from Mobil Mart and drink them at the car-park with the Boom on Twaff-mode. Given iGee’s gregarious nature, he soon spotted a familiar bamba sashaying her way into the club and scurried off in hot pursuit.
There come a Time
I took the bull by the horns and decided to strike while the iron was hot… Step1, suggestive banter between Milo and Shanyc, given our already tipsy states.
Step2, gradual but focused reduction of the space that deigned to exist between us.
Step3, feather ruffling, lip-coalition, yellow-pages to set the stage.
Before I knew it, Shanyc is suggesting relocation. I think about iGee but realise he is a full grown Ndividual and anyway, I can be back in a coupla hours. I start up the engine and we’re on our way to Chez Milo exploiting haste, curtailing hesitation.
Funny thing with Stage3 is that any interruptions take you back to square one. I learnt that well that day. I arrive at the diggoz, head held high, chest pushed out, weapon of mass destruction ready for deployment. Shanyc has other ideas including, but not limited to, talking… Assi, ati what?kwani we are rehearsing for the Patricia Show? I try convince her to ingia the diggoz first we discuss, bilas! Ati we chill in the car and talk about her cuzo who she heard I was hittin on. AkiYaNgai nuuuuuu….
I tell her I’m tired, so we ingia diggz we’ll talk later. She’s adamant. I then say the car’s too uncomfy. She insists that she’d prefer to stay there. I tell her I’ll leave the door open, so when/if she’s ready, she can join me. She says sawa, and I secretly request Nguatah Francis to release the cold of July that night LOL. In the comfort of the diggz I soon forget about her and catch forty winks.
I wake up the next morning and sense something is amiss. Oh jyesssss I am alone. Assi, Shanyc survived the night in the mots?? I run out to the car and can’t believe my eyes. iGee and Shanyc intertwined like Strawberry and Vanilla in a Strawberry Ripple. How now? What is?
Kumbe iGee had seen us leaving the car-park. The sly dude jumped into a Jatco and yelled “follow that car!” He watched our activities from a distance and when he realized I had entered the diggz alone, he went ahead and finished my homework for me! Aiyayai!!
Next evening we were out with iGee laughing about it over beers as he prepares to harvest 5 more numbers…