Don't ask me where I have been. But if you insist, I can tell you. Having gone to hunt for a Rhino to get the Rhino horn and failed, I am back. The Rhino horn was to be used for reasons that I will explain in due course.
It is a Saturday afternoon and I have just finished eating lunch prepared by the legal owner of my plough, Bugatti. If you don’t know what a Bugatti is, ask your son who plays games with his play station the whole day when schools are closed. Today, Bugatti has two visitors who are members of our church. Having nothing planned for the afternoon, we decided to play scrabble. Since I knew I would definitely win, I suggested that we play for ksh 500 each. I had already done the calculations and knew that that amount would be enough to take care of my gang that evening. It is long since I had bought my friends a beer because whenever my turn to buy came, I would doze and start drooling and I would be skipped. That evening I swore that I will be the one to take care of the bills.
So we started playing. I was not doing well. But my turn came when an opportunity presented itself. I checked and saw a word that was ending with a D and where I could place the letters D-R-U-N-K-A-R to form the word DRUNKARD. I counted and saw that I was going to score more than 80 points. Just when I was beginning to celebrate, Bugatti played there. I was done. After a few rounds of play I was able to form the word V-A-G-I-N-A-S. That was going to give me more than 100 points because the V was going to land on a G-spot. When I placed the word there, Bugatti protested saying that that was an unchristian word. I woke up, collected the 2k and walked out in a huff. My Probox is always parked in a takeoff position. I jumped in and off I went.
It was almost the time when I was to meet my gang namely Kasamu, Plato and Shakespeare at Lalaamkahapa Bar. The guys were all seated and having a good time except Shakespeare who had failed one paper at his College and had to do a resit. He explained to us why he was doing a resit. It was because he had copied wrong answers from his girlfriend’s thighs. She passed and he failed. How she passed when they wrote the same things and he failed nobody could answer. But after a few bottles of Guinness, he forgot his woes and started giving us stories of his experience at Nyayo stadium a few days back when he had gone to watch Gor Mahia play against AFC Leopards. One of the things he heard very well was when a Gor fan sitting next to him shouted, “Referee, sould you not be opening your eyes widely? Look, that is a foul … Again look at the referee…He looks like a product of a burst condom. Some people”. Some people can insult. We all laughed.
Katimba, our usual waiter was giving us customized service as usual. But one thing that struck me when I observed Katimba was the size of her buttocks. I am not sure how I can describe it so that you can have a graphic picture of its shape. It was protruding one feet backwards, as if it wanted to detach itself from her body and run away. I have never seen such long buttocks. In fact if there is a shortage of tables at Lalaamkahapa bar, some two customers can comfortably place their beers and glasses on her buttocks and drink from there. I think Katimba has not only been taking chicken feed, but has also been feeding on crop fertilizer and farm manure. That is what I hear women are eating to fatten and have behinds that resemble those of chickens. This world!.
The DJ was now playing a song by Lady Gaga. Plato who had been quiet and just eyeing Katimba’s long buttocks and thinking what we were all thinking asked, “How could a lady dress in meat and appear before people. What was her motive? What message was she sending to the men there? Shakespeare came in and gave us an academic breakdown of her dress and other accessories. He told us that the main dress was made of sirloin steak, the head gear was made of rump steak and her G-string was made of tenderloin steak and her bra was made from the testicles of a cow. Her shoes were made from fillet steak. Kasamu told us that the men in America had become so useless that they had to be told, “Guys, I am ready, please eat me”.
Then I started wondering how many times she had walked ngothaless like that Tabasamu girl hoping that some dude would throw his hand and touch there…Just when I was thinking about this and eying Katimba and imagining how she would look in a G string made of fillet steak, my phone rang. It was Bugatti. “Where are you”. As usual I told her I was negotiating the final payment of that Malili Plot with the owner. “Okay” She said, “Finish quickly and buy with that money you ran away with 5 packets of milk, 4 kgs of sugar etc”. She asked me for so many things at the end I could only remember the milk. I told myself, “Son of a rock, Kama mambo ni mbaya ni mbaya and we continued drinking and discussing the finer details of Katimba’s buttocks. What happened when I got home in the wee hours is a story I can’t share with anybody even if somebody squeezes that part where Lady Gaga got some material for her bra!!!
Enjoy your weekend