Please visit ValerieKimani.com

I was going to post a real interesting post for you guys to enjoy today... you know, those ones where I engage readers in insightful literary discourse, offer interesting and captivating intellectual banter, or at least make a few remarks that may contribute to the country’s economic growth. But an emergency has come up, and as StackOfStiffys, the lewd one, I know it's my duty to take care of business. So I'm putting the interesting post off for a day or two and we're going to deal with this situation.

Someone's named Valerie Kimani is trying to become an internet celebrity. This is unacceptable. Go KBW, go! Click here to go to ValeriKimani.com and tell her how you feel and stop her from embarking on an unofficial and irrelevant exercise in shame of the Kenyan nation and the East African spirit. She already has it on her mind that she is famous all over East Africa and now she wants cyberspace. First we'll stop blogging on KBW, African Path and Nchi Yetu to start rubbing our G-spots (as Aegeus & Ichiena look for theirs in vain of course) in the forums at ValerieKimani.com and the next thing you know, KBW, African Path and Nchi Yetu is going to join the likes of Africa Online in the big bound and dusty book of Internet obscurity. You’ll probably think that I am going over the top but I don't mean to be an alarmist, but you'll agree that blogging is somewhere on the top 10 in my StackListOfAddictions, one spot after beer and about one thousand spots ahead of the church and politics.

Everyone knows that in order to be a superb performing artist, you need, among other things, to be confident and talented. However, what people might not understand is how one directly leads to the other. Using a bit more logic than Valerie logic, you can probably guess having the same amount of confidence and even an ounce more in talent than Valerie Kimani every time she stepped on stage during the recently concluded Tusker Project Fame (more like a Protected Flame, a candle in the wind) isn't going to do anything to make your fan base believe that you are talented.

Obviously, and more sadly though, God, Ngai Allah, Jehovah, Shiva, Buddha, Mungu, Musambwa, Krishna, The Great Architect of the Universe, The Grand Artificer, Great Geometer, or The Grand Master of the Grand Lodge Above (emphases mine), Vishnu, Yahweh or whatever deity you'd like to pin Valerie Kimani’s misfortunes on, gave her (and indeed only a select few of us!) the talent and confidence required to be a superb artist. She sound more like she is a tented bar in Eastlands flapping against the wind to make some music so that bar patrons can spend more. However, she shouldn't worry... she has plenty of options.

Considering that her fan base, as far I am concerned and have experienced so far, is with the little rich kids across the corner from your neighbourhood, she should just go and serve them at The Splash Water World. I can picture her roasting sausages in the area next to the playground or better still poising an aiding archery target (in no regalia hopefully, although there is nothing to look forward in that ominous forehead and almost non existent boobies) in the archery range (Archer are you listening Mzeeiyas?). She can also be a cashier at the main bar.

For those who have never experienced what goes on with those rich kids and tired ols farts and hags at Splash, lemme break it down for you. People usually just carry an extra bag to store all of their stuff as they surf n’ ride the imaginary waves in the Nairobi Beach at Splash and only take money with them. That said, when a human being approaches the main bar to buy a drink wearing either a bikini for the ladies or some assorted mitumba micro-apparel for the man and they aren’t holding any money in their hands and he/she wants a beer, there are only two places where the woman can remove the money from. The first one is slightly less disturbing than the second, and the second, which is the only place the men can keep their money, is more horrifying and disturbing. What would Valerie do when a hairy-chested man extends his hands to the second spot and extracts some notes from his genital region and asks for a Tusker (pun intended!)? Or one of the many fat Nairobi women extracts from her crotch a folded and dripping wet glob of coloured paper that makes the situation it look more like a Kenyan politician has been nabbed by KACC and dropped a load of shit in their pants rather than some currency notes on the counter.

So go to ValeriKimani.com and do your worst, ladies and gentlemen. I don't for the love of Tusker care if you tell her the truth or a pack of lies, it is all the same. And be sure to go to the ‘Talk About Valerie’ forum and verbally beat the daylights out of Valerie, the administrator and the moderator and all her finger licking fans. Once you are done, go to the empty (or ‘empte’ as Marcus would put it) Wikipedia entry on Valerie Kimani and do your worst also. As far as I'm concerned, an entry for Valerie Kimani on Wikipedia should be as shallow as possible on her talent, intellect and confidence and be as detailed as possible on how a slutilicious, bootyless and flat chested wannabe won an internationally acclaimed show in the Star Academy series, much to the chagrin and shame of the respectable residents of East Africa.