Open Letter to the £@%”$ Who Hit My Car

And then ran off like a scared wet chicken.

Dear Sir or Madam,

I hope you get to read this letter and it finds you in the greatest of health, because when I find you, your slow, torturous descent into the depths of physical and mental suffering at my hands will be all the more dramatic.

By scoogling my car in the parking, and leaving the scene and the office area without so much as an unsigned note apologizing for your apparent and disgusting cowardice, you have accomplished what years of reading and drafting all these reports, drinking out of smoky and dreary pubs, and kissing my bosses’ asses had yet to succeed at: My last flicker of faith in the inherent goodness of personkind (not mankind, coz you could be a woman for all we know) has been extinguished. Congratulations.

You must be well aware that a man's car is his chariot, his freedom and his initial projection of the self to the world, and, for me, one of the few things aside from my family and this computer that is of any importance to me. You might as well have walked up to me on the street, a total stranger, kicked me square in the crotch and ran.

So, how does one properly return such a noble deed? I have a plan. It would be foolish and far too easy to simply sue your sorry ass or ask you to repair my car then exchange a few smiles and niceties then move on. No, in this case, Lady Justice will be satisfied with nothing less than the slow torturing and battering of your spirit and self esteem.

I shall work on you till you curse all the evil forces that collaborated to bring you into my life. Since you are apparently my colleague as our parking is reserved, I will hunt down your car, look for the corresponding scratch marks or fresh paint and all hell will break loose then. I shall spam your e-mail from my old computer turned schematic server, hack your IP and then slowly disable then crash your computer, all with simple clicks of a mouse. I shall create out of office agents to constantly respond to all e-mails on your behalf, along the lines of:

I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me as 'Njeri' instead of 'Njoroge'.

You know the drill. I could even impersonate you and play a few games with that special someone, or sign you up on about a thousand or so newsletters from a cross section of websites.

You will hate your work, or the little bit you’ll get done over the next few weeks, and hate yourself, and dread coming to work everyday because of the small ‘accidents’ you’ll be involved in, starting with the conveniently placed banana peels to sweep you away or the pins (ouch!) or slime on your seat. Your car will receive a new coat of glue and splashed paint, and you'll get constant puctures as a bonus. Damn, come to think of it, I could even get you a free carton trailer with tins and beer bottles to rattle you home late one evening!

The beauty of it is that you will not know why. I will probably forget it after a week, and then someone will mention your name and poof!!! I shall start all over again. Perhaps for good measure, I should look up the civil servants who deemed you fit for Kenyan roads and play a few games with them on the phone and top it up with a few crybaby letters from you as well.

As for your sorry self, please take good care of yourself, as your imminent suffering will be made all the more pleasurable for me if you're the pinnacle of good health when I begin. Indemnifying me is almost too good for you jackass.

Vengefully yours,

StackOfStiffys

My measly sins

My Deadly Sins

Lust: 80%

Envy: 40%

Greed: 20%

Pride: 20%

Wrath: 20%

Sloth: 20%

Gluttony: 0%

Chance I'll Go to Hell: 34%

You'll die from overexertion. *wink*

How Sinful Are You?

Real Madrid 2, Barcelona 0

Now how's that? Seems my good old vintage Real is ebbing back into shape, if tonight's display in Barcelona's demolition in the 'El Clasico' is anything to go by.

Today was a big day for soccer, and some TV channels, sponsors and other interested parties probably made millions. The top 2 club soccer matches in terms of TV audience and competitive edge are, yeah, you guessed right: Real Madrid vs. Barcelona and Manchester United vs. Liverpool. They were both played today. I think Arsenal has over the years become more of Man U's rival more than Liverpool, even Chelsea, but this is what the pundits say.

The third, just in case you wanna know, is River Plate vs. Boca Juniors all the way down in Argentina. You may argue that the English duels attract more crowds, but you just underestimate the size of the Latino fan base. The English league makes more money coz of adept channeling strategies, but La Liga is watched by more.

It is even only in recent years that there have been more talented players accepting to play for clubs in in England.

October holiday galore

At the rate at which we are going, you’d probably be forgiven if you thought it is January 2007. After all, we have had quite a number of holidays so far this October, and there are more on the way.

Hope you had a happy Kenyatta Day, and are now enjoying the fruits of independence dear readers. What a glorious day of remembrance it was, perched on my favourite seat in the pub, debating the virtues and vices of a Narc administration gone wrong, of a country’s hopes and dreams bungled over the years. Sometimes, I sit here and wonder where those 43 years have gone, watching this fledgling nation’s fortunes wane over the years and we are now international beggars of repute. Who would have thought, all those years ago, that a promising band of new leaders would have started this sorry state of affairs and misrule? How much more ironic could it be, that a batch of mau mau "rebels" who fought for independence, could have probably charted a better path for Kenya had they not been pushed aside by the educated politicians we call the ‘founding fathers’? Oops, I almost forgot, Kenyatta day is a holiday for patriots who appreciate their independence heroes, and as we all know, patriots never question the motives nor the decisions of those in charge.

So with a bottle of Tusker on my fist, fresh from Ruaraka the home of the top taxpayers in Kenya: Exactly from whom are we celebrating this independence? I mean, as a Kenyan in this dark day and age, I've found myself anything but independent. Sure, I sit in the safe boundaries of this country, getting paid real Kenyan money to offer my services to an employer who appreciates my input, but Kenyan politicians have recently demonstrated to all and sundry that they are out of touch with the reality in the country. Fuck, I drove an imported (and used) Japanese vehicle to the bar, fuelled by Saudi Arabian oil, and I'm wearing a used American shirt sewn together by young Third World Asian hands. My used shoes were stitched together in the Philippines, the glass I'm drinking from was wrought in France, and the musicians prancing across the television screen have American names. Believe it or not, the very streets you walk on in Nairobi have been designed abroad for colossal amounts of money. Could it be possible, in all this vanity and self-worship, that a day dedicated to an event that took place many years ago is just a sham? Perhaps in the same manner that a King depends upon the taxes of his rulers to live his life of luxury, that we sit on this throne funded not by our own taxes but by the efforts of seemingly trivial loans from several foreign coffers? Consider this tonight; when you sit in front of your TV and watch the news (without Swaleh Mdoe to tickle your funny bone) to find out what Kibaki was up to, we depend upon:

• The World Bank and the Interfering Mother Fuckers (IMF) for loans to fund our spending;
• The Western world for our used clothing;
• The Internet for cracked computer software;
• Europe for our cell phones;
• Japan and Germany for automotive engineering;
• South Africa for eggs;
• Pakistan for rice;
• Tanzania for electricity poles;
• The USA and the UK for approvals;
• The Middle East for our petroleum (and those masochistic oil company cartels to boot);
• Scandinavia for premium liquors; and
• Uganda and Tanzania for bullshit political support and general jackassery.

Once upon a time, a mob of pissed-off patriots had had enough shit from their oppressors and packed up for the bush to fight for a better way. A new way. And a New Kenya. On this Kenyatta Day weekend, you should remember exactly what that New Kenya has become: a charade of political clowns and executive pimps, whoring your patriotic asses out for the fat shilling in the offshore bank account. The government tells you the lies, the media relays the lies, and you, the gullible Kenyan, lives the lies. The Narc dream, the vision, the role of our leaders to spur exponential economic growth and the elimination of poverty and tribalism is a vast illusion. No, Central province, the motorcade finally crossed River Chania, there was no Mumbi nor Gikuyu, and your President is a lying bastard. No, Western Kenya, there will probably never be a Luhya president. No Kalenjinland, William Ruto does not think about you even once, he just needs power to enrich himself, and he’ll never be president anyway. No, Maasailand, 'your' land will never be returned, so stop bitching and move on with life.

So I beg you, on this weekend commemorating the imprisonment and deaths of our independence heroes, to look up from your feet and the newspapers, and pay attention to what is actually happening. You're not celebrating independence from anything, not your past of letting Kenyans die of Malaria as drugs rotted away in Nairobi godowns and Ministers drove multimillion limousines, your legacy of igniting and ignoring tribal genocides as we approach elections, the reputation of your leaders for exploiting the voters. You're not celebrating your right to sniff pussy in K-Street, your ability masturbate in the sovereign abodes of your household and to own your own land. You're not celebrating your freedom from international oil pricing, the effect the Central Bank’s controls have had on the fate of our agricultural exports, or what the KRA is going to do to your economy. And you're certainly not celebrating what those mau mau fighters had in mind when they armed themselves and went into the bush to push out the mbeberu.

You're celebrating their ignorance.

Ignorance of what Kenya would become, ignorance of all those dead Kenyans across the Rift Valley, ignorance of where your tax money is going or what those MPs are doing or who's raping who as the police watched. Ignorance of exactly what that flag you squirm to attention when it is hoisted and lowered signifies.

And your own ignorance that right now, that in your own country, a Kenyan is dying from a curable disease, another child goes without an education and a homestead is burning.

An elected official probably lit the match. A highly paid appointed spokesperson briefed the gathered press. A police officer held you back from the side of the road. A cameraman was robbed of his film. An editor, a total stranger, warped the words you read. An unfamiliar face on the TV read them to you in that assuring voice, with Swaleh Mdoe chained and en route to a probable deportation. And you believed them.

You believed every word they told you.

So why don't you believe me?

Ponder this: The Asian community controls about 70% of the Kenyan economy, their vote does not count in elections (except in some wards in Westlands and Kisumu!) and yet yesterday they were celebrating Diwali, their new year and yet this was not a Public Holiday. Our Muslim brethren on the other hand, control a smaller portion of the economy, mainly at the coast and the vast nothingness that is the North Eastern Province, and when they break their fast, it is a Public Holiday (as shall be on Tuesday 24 October). Christians on the other hand, make up the masses, their politicians double up as their tribal chieftains and the richest people on the land (coincidence? Nah), their vote counts, they control the smallest portion of the economy, mainly through the chieftains and yet you and me engage in a lot of chest thumping over freeing the land from the colonialists, while the benefits are clearly ending up elsewhere!

The only entity of which you're operating independently is the truth.

Celebrate that, fellow brainwashed Kenyans.

The 24 sexiest Kenyans……

I happened to overhear a discussion in a cybercafé over the weekend between two trendy, sublimal and urbane ladies who were chatting with some guy online. The gist of the conversation was to the effect that the October 2006 issue of True Love magazine carried photos of 24 sexy Kenyans, and wow wasn’t it great, at least they could now pursue Tom Mboya. Naturally, curiosity got the better of me and I got itchy. I could not even settle down anymore and had to shoot off an e-mail off to some lady to please bring her copy to the office on Monday! So yesterday I rushed to the office and read it all, and to say the least I felt let down. All my excitement waned and I felt belittled to say the least.

The general dictionary definition of the word sexy is ‘arousing or tending to arouse sexual desire or interest’. Off the cuff, this term is generically concerned with sex, although there could be the meaning of being excitingly appealing like ‘a sexy new plasma TV’. However, I understand that this magazine is targeted at the ladies and this list appears to have created some murmurs judging by my colleagues here, mostly of approval although, as usual there are a few naysayers, yours truly included.

To the publishers of True Love: Nice crusade you've got going on in your latest issue. You know, I never say anything about someone until I've had the balls to say it: Now this listing probably creates additional revenue for you, but it also takes up my valuable time as I have to write messages like this, and your readers probably get ticked off over wasted money and effort, unless they live in the same hallway of yesteryear like you.

Here is my take on some individuals on the list, and I welcome your views as well. I have mentioned some of the 24 (not Jack Bauer’s 24, sorry to disappoint you) and proceed to give my take on the individual and you can correct me if I am wrong (please) or share all the juicy details you have stashed up s’where, or just tell me what a scoundrel I am!

Tedd Josiah: He who of the Blue Framez Cinema fame and brought Vipi to our visual tubes, and the same guy who awarded himself Kisima Awards when he was the organizer, is now one of the sexiest Kenyans around. Putting Tedd Josiah at the beginning of a list of sexy Kenyans is a symptom of the start of another useless listing. Reality shows us on a daily basis that schemes designed to fool Kenyans out of their hard earned cash are on the rise and will only increase, so am surprised that the publishers of True Love have resorted to this. This is not the serious work of an entertainment writer. Tedd Josiah may be one of Kenya’s most successful music producers (remember Audiovault, Sync Sound and now Blue Framez??) But I have my doubts whether he is one of the sexiest. I’ll let the ladies point me in the right direction, coz am probably headed in the opposite, well groomed he is, but is he sexy?

Emma Too: I know most of you are probably giving yourselves the thumbs up that at least she is here. Well, please check your calendar and you’ll notice that this is the year 2006, and she has been around for a lot longer than you believe. When she first appeared on the scene, she was one helluva looker alright, and downright sexay, but in 2006? Please. They’ve listed her as a Landscape Surveyor, and I must admit I do not know what profession that is, star counting? Recording cloud speeds? You tell me.

Waweru Njoroge: No comment. OK one line: Dear Waweru: Don’t feel proud mister, you are supposed to have a job, go to work, go home, spank your pet cat, then go to bed, not tell us you are self-employed and a consultant whilst you got sacked.

Misiko Andere: This is that chubby faced lady who presents Art Scene on KTN. Looking at her picture on True Love, I noticed that she has a tattoo of a dolphin on her …wait for this…left leg! On the shin to be exact. I know you are saying that being sexy is one thing, and being good looking is another, well I agree, but there is no way you are to be labelled sexy if you are ugly and chubby, unless you give everyone a demo. Nuff said.

Angela Angwenyi: This is probably her payoff for winning the Kenya Night series ( I hear she never got her cash prize), but they also tricked her to wear a black and red turban and she’ll look like India Arie. Big mistake.

Tom Mboya: Wipe of the smile from you face young man, and understand that in order to be relevant to all viewers, you need to be consistent with the pronunciation of English consonants. Financials are pronounced [/fɪˈnænʃəl, faɪ-/ Pronunciation Keyfi-nan-shuhls] and not [fee-nan-shuhls] man, and stop relaxing your hair; it has a bad effect on the otherwise superb studio lighting at prime time. One evening I watched you seated next to Sophie Ikenye and you seemed more petite than her!

Lorna Irungu: I have to ask you to forgive my language on this one, or you stop reading. In my 28 years on this earth I have never felt such true emotion being expressed in any form like the time there was a detailed discussion on some lurid pictures that were doing the rounds on the net. Some guys were very convinced it was her, and were like why did she go to some white guy's place if she had a good idea what men are about and what they like. She’s probably mastered the art of sleeping with her eyes open by now. She looks downright ugly and fat in the magazine, and although she still retains that killer smile that got many guys talking in the early 90s, she has no business being on a list of sexy people in 2006. Sure Lorna, we’ve all seen young ladies like you in Nairobi that got their way in everything but you are no longer good enough to get into anybody’s A-list, least of all bed, but it still seems you still think you got game.

Esther Arunga: That’s DJ CK’s newest teen &^%$£, and she sounds good and sexy on radio alright, but she looks a whole lot different, like something out of kids array of toys. In shaggz.

Ojay Hakim: That’s a fashion designer in Nairobi according to the caption. He looks too fatherly, and I guess this is a feeble attempt to appeal to elderly readers. Well, that’s all good, but for your information, elderly readers would probably want to see the likes of a fresh form four leaver with freshness all over him, not some measly moustachioed jackaroo being called sexy.

Debbie Asila: Now this is one I don’t understand. Here is a Beyonce wannabe, complete with a grumpy weave (that covers her forehead and has some braids at the back, yuck,) being masqueraded as sexy.

Regina Re: Now this is one woman who has a commanding presence, and I do not really know if she’s got sex appeal guys. I think she just has those magnetic effects on an audience that cannot necessarily be interpreted to be sexy. If she’s on this list, then Cathrine Kasavuli should be on it as well.

Others on the list are: Caroline Wainaina, John Alan Namu, Thaddeus Jude, Lillian Muli, Morris Odumbe, Doris Anjalo, Ian Ochuka, Florence Machio, Marcus, Michael Oyier, Nameless, Hussein Mohammed and Susan Kaittany.

Notable Absentees: DJ CK(!), Julie Gichuru Butt, Swaleh Mdoe, Leo Faya, and please add your own!

Some of the individuals named above deserve it, but my point here is that a publication risks a lot in engaging in rating how sexy Kenyans are. Rate the musicians, politicians, sportsmen and women and call it that, but saying Kenyans? No way. All the people we meet on the streets are Kenyans and sexy in their own way. I am sure you’ve all seen someone who’s sexy, and you still see them everyday, and they are not on that list.

Some of you bloggers and avid readers (who’ve waited for this lame post, sorry Unyc, Pekiro Princess, Quintessence for the disappointment, I’ll share my September travels shortly) are probably wondering what business I have reading a women’s magazine, but that is all good, sometimes junk gets to you in one way or another just like spam (I spammed those ladies conversation anyhow) . This post is not intended to ridicule or belittle anyone. Instead, it should be a timely reminder to the publishers on how lame they are and those on the list who, in my own personal opinion are not sexy and have no business being on the list, and accepted to be.

A new post coming up....

Hey! After a two week hiatus I am working on a new posting that will probably knock you out... it is killing me as I draft it, God help me.

In the meantime, please boggle your mind with this article, then check out this clock and sign off by saluting my cellular service provider for this notable achievement and then wait for the the post.