After a second attempt to look for a Rhino horn, I have decided to give up. The closest I have ever come to a Rhino was that blind one at one of the parks around Sweetwaters Tented Camp in Nanyuki. But that one is useless because the horn has already been cut and it is blind. When I asked one of the game wardens how hard it is to get a rhino horn, he told me it is as hard as having Kibaki sack one of the corrupt cabinet ministers. I did not ask him any further questions. Probably I will have to look for an alternative and that is not very far away. While there my 7 year old son asked me, “Daddy, Daddy, why does that monkey have
blue balls?” My answer was that probably it is because the contents are blue. Since we are being encouraged to talk to our sons about each and everything, that evening we discussed balls in greater details; their functions, sizes, color etc. That aside, I am being tempted to boil the blue balls when I get a male monkey and drink the soup… Anyway, I did not come here to tell you about monkey balls…
It is a Saturday afternoon and I am waiting for EPL to kick off. Then suddenly I see a group of four women walk into my house, led by Bugatti. As soon as I saw them I knew my vow not to join Plato, Kasamu and Shakespeare at LalaAmkaHapa Bar will be broken. No sooner had the mamas settled down, than I quickly excused myself to go and buy a newspaper. I headed straight to LalaAmkaHapa Bar where Katimba heartily welcomed me as usual. When Kamau, the butcher saw me, he quipped, “Supu itakuwa vikombe gapi?” He knows exactly what I and my gang eat and what he has to confirm is the amount of soup that will go into the boiro. I told him to prepare four cups na pilipili iwe nyingi. All this time I had not even talked to Kasamu to find out where he was. I was not thinking or else I was thinking with something else because my eyes were fixed at Katimba’s 1.5ft long buttocks. But I quickly came to my senses, reached out for my phone and called Plato. Plato was not in good mood because it was now 2 weeks since he ploughed. He had been denied pastures simply because he refused to buy a skirt suit of 15,000 ksh. The reason why he refused is that it was hardly 2 months since he bought another one. Anyway I managed to assemble Plato, Kasamu and Shakespeare at Katimba’s where she welcomed them warmly.
After two beers, Plato announced, “Friends, my plough is about to burst and as hard as metal. Imagine for two weeks it has not cultivated. I feel like I have the strength of a tiger. If I was to get something, I would maul it mercilessly. I am only allowed to touch the pastures, and when I am about to start feeding, I am reminded of that skirt suit”. Since I had been in Plato’s dirty shoes before, I very well understood his predicament. Shakespeare shot up, “Man, how can you get hungry in the midst of so much meat?” Even before he could finish, Kasamu jumped and asked him to sit down. “Young man, you are hardly 24 years of age and if you don’t watch out we will soon start your countdown to the grave. Never offer advice on matters you know nothing about”. I asked Kasamu to leave the young man alone and arrange for a date to offer him some pearls of wisdom on ‘how to live longer’. I called Kasamu aside and after a few observations we decided to help Plato.
Kasamu knows how to help a brother out. He told me, “Magigi, You know this place called Abble Pees, where there is some kind of dirty dancing that happens there. It is in Parklands. We can take Plato there and he will release. He will have the first COME. If you watched what @Ric Dees posted you know what I am talking about. (see this link -
http://www.youtube.com/w...?v=lPesKyIhGZg&NR=1 I had watched this comedy a few months back. Where @Ric Dees dug it I can’t tell. Some men! It is like they spent all their life thinking dirty, acting dirty, and talking dirty. Some men! Anyway Chris Rock puts it very succinctly. He says that there are two types of COME. Yes, two types of come! Check it out. We only wanted Plato to have the first COME and hopefully that would have fixed his problem, albeit temporarily.
So at around midnight we bade Katimba goodbye and headed to Abble Pees. Westlands and Parklands is like Sodom and Gomorrah. The things that go on there! If I were you and was living in either Sodom, sorry, Westlands or Parklands I would relocate to Sinai. It is better to be murdered officially by the Government of Kenya than wait for God’s wrath to descend on those two areas. Anyway, at 2 pm, the show started and I was looking at the reaction of Plato. When the girls started appearing in their scanty lingerie, Plato’s tool shot up. I could see because I was seated just next to him. I quickly sent Shakespeare to organize and see if Plato could be helped. Shakespeare is a good organizer. He quickly got one of the girls and after some negotiations and some instructions, he brought a report to which we accepted. Plato was whisked outside. We were watching Plato very keenly lest he does a Chris Rock’s COME level two. The girl was under strict instructions to play around with his plough only until he trembles. After 3 minutes we heard Plato roar like a lion and we knew that our brother was okay. We quickly took him away from the girl because she wanted to take Plato to the next level. Our mission was over…
Have a fantabulous weekend…