SORRY NOT SORRY, THE POLITICIANS APOLOGY.

I am sorry I haven’t been writing often but if you guys read, shared and paid me for my musings, I would drop out of med school and entertain you full time. That folks, is a classic fart bag apology.
Fart bag: noun (taboo, slang) An individual who hurts you in any way and proceeds to blame you for your pain.

We have all given or heard non-apologies at one point in our lives. I shamefully admit that I have sinned when it comes to the fauxpology department. I have since evolved and learnt better and I want to spread this basic but strangely obscure skill of apologising. Non apologies are the kind of statements that (mis)use the word sorry but do not express responsibilities for faults, purposefully and wilfully miss the point and are most often used to elicit forgiveness without acknowledging wrongdoings.

How to spot an effective fake apology

1.Whenever the word sorry is followed by if, you, you’re, but … I’m sorry if I hurt you, sorry you’re offended, sorry you are upset. The offender is basically apologising for the fact that you cannot handle their douchebaggery and with all due respect could you please adopt the personality of an inanimate object and stop inconveniencing the world with your basic human emotions.

2.The brothers “you are too sensitive you need to lighten up”, “I think you are overreacting” followed closely by their cousin “I didn’t mean it like that”. For a long time I thought being sensitive was the worst trait you could have until I realised being a supreme cunt is the worst trait any human being should have. Don’t let anybody make you feel pathetic for lacking the ability to endure insult gracefully. It not your fault they are terrible people. You do not need to lighten up, those jokes are not funny.

3.I am sorry you feel that feel that way but (insert bullshit reasons why you’re feelings are not valid and how you brought it on yourself). Just because you’re creative enough to come up with noble reasons for your actions does not negate the insensitivity of your actions. You are sorry but you don’t think the situation justifies the level of upset the offended is expressing. Well I am sorry I punched you in the throat but you are a complete and utter turd.

Now that you know. These are the basic components of an authentic adult apology.
1.A clear “I am sorry”
2.An acknowledgement of fault and expression of regret over what happened. Do not ruin it with excuses, its manipulative and annoying.
3.A solution to make it right and avoid making the same mistake again.

Sounds so simple doesn’t it? For the ego it’s not, but you can get there. It’s embarrassing to be called out on your bullshit and we cop out by giving fauxpologies. We should bite the bullet more often and take responsibility for our words and actions. Adulting is hard enough, don’t make it worse by being self-absorbed and insensitive to other people’s feelings.   I prefer if somebody did not apologise to me at all than add insult to injury by giving me BS apologies. It has definitely made the list of things that make my tits ache with palpable rage!

U-HAUL HER!!!

A budding romance is nothing short of exciting. You meet her at Pink Viewing: Open Mic 2 or one of those new LGBTIQ meccas in Nairobi, the likes of Out-In-Kenya Film Festival. Dude the queer scene has evolved. I saw Facebook posts of the Mardi Gras festival complete with a parade and stands and a bunch of queer and queer friendly people.

You exchange a few flirtatious glances…and proceed to eye bang each other all over the room as whatsherface spirals into yet another one of her overbearing neurotic rants. By the end of the night, you have her digits or she has yours. Barely a week into it and you are lagging around bags, a delectable shade of purple under your eyes; from those late night to early morning incessant chats that sync your periods before you even meet!! Who cares? You are happy! Waves of warmth, starting from a tickle in your lady bits building into a visceral feeling of euphoria and delight, are coursing through your body!

Finally the weekend is here! Famed first sleep over…Yaaaazzzzz!!!! You cook for her, she slow dances for you in her purple lacy panty and your oversized smoking hoodie. Purple is your favourite colour, so you fuck 6 ways from Sunday! Or until you are unable to pry away from each other! As you sit there, lost in each other’s gaze, over half eaten pilau Njeri and takeout chicken. Too fattened on endorphins for any realistic or logical reasoning; you both make the decision to join in holy tenancy!

If you have reached this point, don’t feel bad. The odds were against you from the word go. Biology was rooting against you! Both of you were producing an insane amount of oxytocin! A hormone produced when women are breastfeeding, having sex or are in love; a biological encouragement to attach and nest. That coupled with the seemingly bottomless pit that comes with growing up in a society that not only devalues women, it is also homophobic. The urge to merge overpowers even the sanest of women.

Barely a month into it and you have morphed into this “we-beast” with a joint emotional bank account. Your single friends don’t want to be around your nauseating clingy brand of love so they stop inviting you to PAWA 254 events. You don’t even notice because you are having the best sex of your life!  She feels nurtured and you feel safe. All this is stemming from the false sense of security that living together certainly means you are in a stable relationship. This is the haters (real or imagined) bashing and bae-status updates stage.

Give it a couple of more weeks and the love goggles begin to crack. You are emotionally burnt out. It is not cute that she is messy. It is not all Kumbayah that your random exes cum best friends are always popping over without warning and sleeping over whether she is around or not.  No more unicorns and rainbow farts, in its place an overwhelming urge to purge! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what comes next. No, I am not going to tell you to take it slow, pace yourselves or you only live once so carpe diem!! I know people will still do whatever they think their souls need. It’s only my opinion and I am not Beyoncé, ruler of Venus and all women. There is really no point of this post. 

Bye Felicia!

WOMEN ARE ALL SLUTS!

“Woman is not born; she is made. In her making, her humanity is destroyed. She becomes a symbol of this, symbol of that: mother of the earth, slut of the universe; but she never becomes herself because it is forbidden for her to do so.”

Quote by Andrea Dworkin

Andrea was quite the radical feminist back in the 80’s who wore unflattering overalls and thought all sex with men was rape. I do not all together agree with her on the rape part but I think she was on to something. Slut shaming, the sexual double standard on crack!

Slut-shaming according to feminism 101 is the idea of attacking a woman expressing her sexuality in a manner that does not conform to patriarchal expectations of women. 

The slur “slut” is a weapon casually wielded against females from people of all walks of life. There are many “justifiable reasons” to be called a slut in a world where toxic masculinity is enabled. A woman who throws herself around like a rag doll with raging hormones is a slut! Women are only supposed to engage in coitus if they are in love, married or procreating because they have been brainwashed by sexist puritanical arseholes to think enjoying casual sex is a sin! 

A woman who shows some cleavage or leg is a slut! Hell, even veiled women who expose wisps of hair and glimpses of wrists and ankles are absolute sluts! Ride their camel toes all over Egypt then burn them all and give their ashes to Poseidon! 

 The easiest way to express our multi-dimensional personalities and ever evolving identities is through clothes because of the obvious; they can be changed! Seeing a fellow woman show some skin is never a big deal until men are factored in! Sexually provocative clothing then becomes a woman’s way of saying “I am a naughty kitten, I secretly want sex but I won’t admit it so I’ll trick you with my body, you are all welcome to jeer and grope.” We can all conclude that women are responsible for the actions of lustful creeps! After all, our boobs are rape bat signals!!

 The single mother, the baby mama, the unwed mother and the divorcée are all sluts! They dared to fornicate and were punished with pregnancy! They deserve to be scorned or pitied depending on how they came by their single parenthood. Any woman who is dumped by a man who abandons his responsibilities as a father is not a victim of tragic circumstances but a scapegoat for false theology and mean-spirited ideologies. They are all whores right? 

The world always seems to look better through bloodshot eyes. That is why nothing reeks of the walk of shame than running into a lady on a sunny but chilly morning in a brief bandage dress, dishevelled hair and crazy smudged racoon eyes makeup! Those cheap trashy whores! Instead of the walk of shame, their male counterparts do the stride of pride. They get smirks instead of looks of disgust. Clearly, there is one set of sexual rules for males and another unequal condemnatory set for women. 

All women who have had sex are sluts! In fact, any woman who behaves in a way that a man doesn’t like is at risk of being slut-shamed. Virgins have been victims of slut-shaming! Young, nubile women are expected to be beautiful and Sirenic as well as virginal and chaste. Adhering to either end of the spectrum labels you negatively. You are a frigid prude for not giving it up or have a bucket fanny if you do and it doesn’t matter whether his penis is so small because two thirds of it is shoved into his personality! 

You are a slut! You are also a slut! And her! And them! We are all sluts! Men slut-shame us, we slut-shame fellow women, they slut-shame themselves! It’s a vicious cycle. So when do we say enough is enough?

 I conclude with this quote from Ferret Steinmetz to his daughter, telling her I hope you have awesome sex: “You are not an extension of my will…consensual sex isn’t something that men take from you; it’s something you give. It doesn’t lessen you to give someone else pleasure. It doesn’t degrade you to have some of your own. And anyone who implies otherwise is a man who probably thinks very poorly of women under the surface.”

All is “fair” in love and war…did you get the memo?

In a nutshell, in life you cannot blame somebody for acting in their own best interest. Love and war are the two endeavors that bring out the best and worst in people. Like a sneeze, they cannot be contained or controlled. Rules, laws and “fairness” are duly suspended in these circumstances. So lying, backstabbing, spying, espionage, bombing civilians, torture, treason and even stabbing ratchets in the eye with shanks fashioned out of your tooth brush are considered fair play. You are basically fucked if you opt to take any of these options off the table because your opponent has no obligation to comply with your moral codes.

So what does one do when Jezebel herself aggressively and persistently hits on your partner knowing full well that she is in a committed relationship? I do mean Jezebel in the Biblical sense; exquisite beauty where all ratchet behavior descended from! 

The woman is drop dead! God must have basted her in quail egg... if curves could kill; her face is #nofilters, gorgeous hair that has probably never had “dandras” as my people call dandruff.  She’s smart to be in a particular line of work and earning that amount of money being that young! She is independent and efficient. Basically what all young women want to be, all men want to take home and all lesbians want to take nauseating love selfies with AND she wants your woman. She wants her so bad; enough to invite her over to her whoredom and bend over in her thong, exposing her glorious clappers! Oh you have seen porn start less obviously. This is the stuff butt sex wet dreams are made of.  It gets worse; your partner seems to relish 

the attention.

Getting hit on by a demi-goddess, oh who wouldn’t be flattered? It is understandable! You are even flattered on her behalf. The fact that you are attracted to your woman doesn’t rule out that other people might also see what you see in her. Goes to show you have a gem! And attraction to beautiful women…is a cock jerk reaction.  So, you cannot really resent her for that. Up to this point, your woman has been fairly open and honest about these advances, you trust her not to shove her fist down the cookie jar. When do you draw the line? What is the reasonable thing to do?

Do you give a hall pass? It’s just sexual attraction…for now. But you do know how delayed gratification works. Denied desire only intensifies it; when the inevitable comes around it will have morphed from attraction to feelings and well you’re fucked…or not! Let them flush those whoremones from their systems and hope Jezebel sucks in the sack…and not the good kind of suck.

Be a sitting a duck. The green-eyed monster has certainly no place in your relationship, it just shows you’re insecure and insecurity is not attractive. So, suck it up and wait for your partner to do something about it. She is your woman, not your possession. And it’s not your place to tell off Jezebel. It is up to your girlfriend to respect you and your relationship enough to shut it down. You are only responsible for your actions, feelings and reactions and not your woman’s or Jezebel’s.

Do you wonder whether you’re not filling your partner’s plate as good as you thought you were? Probably ask her why she even gives Jezebel the time of day then polish up on your game. Life is not about finding yourself but recreating yourself…through plastic surgery but let’s face it, the only way you could get any hotter is if you threw yourself in an active volcano!

Take Mother Nature’s advice and engage the offending party in a duel…to the death!!

Do nothing…let it run its course and exorcise whatever resentments that may threaten to surface in the future. A reasonable person does not control her partner’s friendships or diminish their connections based on her own prejudices and emotions. Doing nothing does not mean there is a welcome mat where your spine used to be or you having the emotional range of a turtle…maybe you do. It is simply a case of choosing not to emotionally wound yourself over other peoples’ actions; pick your battles. All is fair in love and war and vae victis…in layman’s terms losers’ weepers.

Okay you shades, “vae victis” is Latin for woe to the vanquished!

coming out with butt stuff...

closet things

So I put the FML in family recently when I invited the wolf over to my house with my family for Christmas. One week…it went fairly well, or so I thought. Few days after she left, I was in the living room with my mother, watching Oprah. Out of thin air came…  

 “So who is that girl to you? Honestly? She is not just your friend; you were very attentive and affectionate towards her all week…blah blah. My daughter does not like people…but there was something about her, you were different. Are you lesb…are you in a relationship with her? I do not want to investigate or judge your sex life; sexuality is different for everyone...blah blah… I’m asking as a mother. Are you dating her?”

My reply to ALL that *CRICKETS*

I am not ready to open that can of worms with my mother. She couldn’t even say “lesbian” without choking on the word. I do not think she is ready either. She is random, ridiculous and unpredictable and until I’m ready to have that conversation with her, wolf, whom she will never see again is my best friend…or any other woman I might take fancy to in the distant future. The closet is quite cosy…even though she can see me through the transparent glass sides.

“I once heard Oprah was in a relationship with another woman… (Trails off)”

Oh my Lord all those times we watched Ellen DeGeneres…Please don’t say Ellen!  I reach for the remote to change the channel only to land on Queen Latifah’s talk show. *mental cringe FML!  Meanwhile I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hope she doesn’t tell my grandmother…or father.

PS: my mother is not the only person who thinks I am cold, distant and dislike people. My very close friends ask me if I am drunk when I go all mushy and rainbows on them. I think not…OMG you guys I AM ADORABLE! Air hugs!

Speaking of not judging, rim jobs!! Every time I bring up the controversial butt sex topic, my wolf says “Pause, I’m not that gay!” then I laugh and say “maybe we are not there yet”. Truth is…the day she says she’s open to it; I will probably freak the fuck out!  I do not think I’m that I am butt sex gay either…not to that degree. That’s a hard limit for me.

 HOW? Leave alone individuals in exclusive monogamous happily ever after s. How do people or better yet women, give rim jobs to casual lays and strangers…like men, for example? Man musk can get pretty potent…How do you get your delicate nose probing a man’s bum hole? All up in his warm, musty & hairy ass crack that probably smells like baked crotch and balls fart! With his nut suck hanging right there, probably grazing your chin as it swings back and forth. Moaning like the mitch he most definitely is! Where do you get the sheer will to put your tongue on strange man-arse? What if he loses control and lets rip a horrendous, eye smarting, blast of flatulence right up your mouth? My walls are crawling just from asking these questions. This is why I do not think you can influence any straight man to have gay sex…he wants to rim a guy he will, because he loves it!

I would be too self-aware, nervous and extremely uncomfortable to let someone sniff around back there. If it ever happens…I would have had an enema, waxed… whatever stray hair resides there and if anybody asks I was drugged and hog tied on the table…held at knife point.

I’m not here to judge or ruin it for the gay men, saysbians, bisexuals and basically all sexual liberals out there. If it tickles your fancy, bury your face in it! I hear it gets pretty addictive!

 

crack can be good...dont listen to me!

Happy New Year!!!! and my birthday blues are a year older...

I was in born in December. Fantastic month but for some reason I have started dreading my name day. Why? For starters my family do not acknowledge birthdays. For the others…friends, barely remember unless they logged on to face book and meeeeeh!  

  I certainly do not want to be the boob that goes around reminding people of my birthday. And where do you look when people sing you that happy birthday song…at them; dead in the eye? Do you sing along? Grin sheepishly? Then feeling like I haven’t accomplished anything and I’m running out of time…inching closer to death. will my hoohah dry up? Gah! My birthday makes me feel awful and alone. I’m over it!

Lessons/recap 2013 and resolutions for 2014…yes of course.

1)    I do not need a thicker skin; i need to avoid situations/people that seem to enjoy scarring it.

2)    I shouldn’t do anything that doesn’t feel good to my soul.

3)    Just because you know better doesn’t guarantee you’ll do better!

4)   It’s better to actually be intelligent than to pretend you are by wearing nonprescription glasses.

5)    To watch less of Kardashians and bored rich housewives because I cannot afford to hate society more than I actually do at the moment.

6)    Crazy just like energy never dies; it’s constantly moving…transforming so just keep bobbing and weaving.

7)    Kimnye’s selfie that nearly broke the internet! Despite being balls to the wall crazy…I would love to bang Miley Cyrus with those j's on her feet! #IJS and bound 2 was the worst video ever!! *cringe *gag. I wanted to cut off my ears and cover my eyeballs with them just so i couldn't see the video a second longer..smh kimnye

O

8)  Always look left and right when crossing the road because sometimes people cut brake lines. (I fell in the middle of the road in December…the kind of fall that makes onlookers wince and go “OOOH sorry” in a rare collective urban vote of sympathy! So mortifying!)

9)    Do not burn bridges if there is a chance you’ll want to go back. Home. 

10) Dance because you’re drunk at a party, not because “no one is watching”. Everyone is watching! That’s how parties work!

11)  I inadvertently outed myself to my mother…I’m still reeling from that so maybe I’ll dissect that on my next post! 

12) Those odd awkward humans that you pluck from obscurity are the ones with potential to make your life spectacular and colorful.

13)  SAYSBIANS (somebody who says they are lesbian but only seems to have sex with men) and BEERSEXUALS (lady who engages in Sapphic activities only under the influence) WILL FUCK YOU UP A GOOD ONE! Be warned.

14)  My safe word is ice cream because everyone screams for ice cream!

15)  If a woman says she is fine…do not take her word for it. Use your decoder ring to decipher what disaster is brewing beneath the surface

16) Game of thrones is releasing 2 back to back seasons this year! I intend to live long enough to watch them

17)  Love is a gift. Being nice doesn’t cost much. Be positive. Happy New Year! I still hate my birthday though!

Mermaids,Merginas and I'm all over the place...

December is here! Well almost; almost does count in this case. The month where visitors, mostly relatives, will descend upon your house holds to chew with their mouths open and dispense unsolicited advice. This is when your vindictive loathsome she beast of an aunt will goad you about your fertile child bearing hips and your racing biological clock. Then every married woman within 100 meter radius will chime in and who’s ever prepared for this estrogen lynch mob? Not a good time for us Sapphic sisters; it’s more of an out of the frying pan into the volcano situation. You made your bed and now you gotta bang whatever crawls into it.

 Have you started your search for an impotent man boy to parade as your beard for the holidays? That is family though; black holes where you throw in your happiness love worry and concern and there is no guarantee you’ll get anything back! My plans for December you ask? Of course, continuing my quest of dying alone among other things. We shall cross that bridge when we get there!

 I have often wondered if mermaids have merginas too, I do not know. The title was a ploy to get you here. See how much this writer’s block thing has messed me up? I’m resorting to cheap tricks to get you to skim through my material. My liver has also taken a pretty hard hit. I bet I can now drink you under the table on top of the table, somewhere close to the table and get kicked out of the establishment housing that table. I have had practice, drinking alone in my room. I’m not proud of that. Whatever.

“Fifty shades of grey” the movie has been cast! I am happy as long as twilight’s what’s her face doesn’t play Anastasia Steele. I cannot wait to see this movie along with millions of women around the world. Sex and debasement; there is something to talk about on your third date. Show me a woman who has never had an orgasm and I’ll show you one who has never been degraded in bed. Oh scoff all you want feminist. Your present hostility is a barely concealed form of foreplay. Oh you know you want it you horny insatiable little slut, I’m only happy to oblige!

Well that escalated fast…and what is wrong with me?

Romance: sigh…let’s just say I’m going with the flow. Taking things slow. By slow I mean a leisurely pace and not developmentally challenged. Though I could be somewhat challenged, if you talk to the right people. Sometimes when I think about love in all its glory and gore there is a white hot sun of misery in my chest. Because what. The. Fuck. Other times it’s the gushy gooey warmth that comes with it which I suppose makes it worth it. Take all the best moments and hold them to your heart for when you need them. I seem to have grounded myself in a pit of hormonal emotions and wish fulfillment of late. 

Which reminds me, it’s been awhile since I went clubbing; nothing gets me out of a funk like gyrating in one those STD mosh pits we call dance floors till four in the morning! Anything to get me out of my hoodies and shorts that does not involve a wedding without booze.

I pose the question, how comes when most ladies wear giant hoodies and messy hair in a loose bun they come off laid back and fantastic while I look like I have tried every drug Nairobi has to offer? It’s not fair. I do have one thing going for me though, I can now touch my ears with my knees…yes, and I’ll just let that visual sink in. happy December folks!