Wednesday, January 04, 2012


My holiday season wasn't that great. (Thanks for asking). I spent it looking at a bottle of some very questionable liquid while singing along to the lyrics of songs only heard in serious chic flicks. *Cue the water works* (All by myselffffffff....don't wanna be all by myselffffff....anymore) *sniffs*. Suffice to say it was an odd time of the year for me. Don't be afraid though, I'm seeing a very qualified shrink who is also helping me with this really weird habit I've developed lately. I would tell you but then you would never look at me the same again. lets just say it involves squirrels and a ridiculous need for speed. And two French journalists. And tonnes of oil. I fear i have said too much.

Actual reenactment of me sitting in the office working!
Onwards though. I'm not a fan of the holidays. The genesis of this loathing began twelve years ago. I was thirty five, muscular and had just graduated from Arm Wrestling School. It was a time of happiness and big forearms.*dissolving into fuzzy flashback* Actually it's pretty simple. I grew up watching random kids shows that taught me that Santa only goes to visit good white kids because we don't have chimneys. From then on I vowed to track him down and kill him and his little elves. Anyway while I find Christmas totally pointless, the holiday that takes the cake has to be New Year.

For real. What's up with that? Yay! It's the first of January! Wow this feels like de javu. I wonder when this happened again.  Last freaking year. Same thing happened. This is exactly how my countdown went. It's an actual reenactment. So step back in case you are scared of blood.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six (Really hope the Mayans were right) five, four, three, two, one. Then I closed by eyes tight and started waiting for that tsunami from the movie 2012. Nothing. Then I noticed my watch was ten minutes fast. So while I was safely on the other side, I still had to wait for the stragglers to catch up. Trust Kenyans to be late for a year. The clock strikes midnight (again) and everyone starts going crazy. Kissing here. Hugging there. Groping the wrong butt. (Dude I saw you touch me) And then I'm like congratulations. It's January. You're all screwed!

So here I am. Sitting in the office. January already seems like it's been six months long. No one is smiling. Our wallets rule our moods. And from this I'm finding ways to survive January. This started with lunch where we had to forego our usual joint and instead just imagined how full stomachs feel. These aren't resolutions, mind you. They are the only ways I can think of that can guarantee me the chance to see February.

Firstly, avoid my landlord. I'm thinking maybe I can try get the government to declare my place a biological hazard. They are well on their way to doing this because of the way my rubbish bin has been filling up recently. It's been so filthy that I found a hobo getting himself comfortable. In addition to this, public transport might become a leisure. Because Thika Road is a veritable parking lot, I won't lose out on much in the way of motion and I will also be getting exercise. That's like fifteen birds with one coin.

I couldn't help myself!
Obviously my diet is now completely different. it goes without saying that animal proteins are completely scrapped. Meat and milk are out. But then again that is totally dependent on whether or not my rodent traps work.Sugar was already a myth. Apparently a human being can survive 30-40 days without food if properly hydrated.That means my only meal will be water this month. Then around Valentine's Day....BUFFET...or death.

Speaking of Valentine's Day, there will be no love this month. No dating or even acknowledging that girls exist. Every single time that happens, money escapes from my pocket. It's like they are the pied piper minus the rats and children. So no falling in love or even crushes.I'm too broke to give a damn. That is unless I can find a girl who doesn't care about being fed or entertained during dates. Communication will be limited to smoke signals and reverse calls (which are being offered by Yu Mobile...It's like they don't care about money anymore). Things are thick. Lastly, I'm gonna keep the madness to a minimum. I hear it costs a whole lot to be admitted into a mental institution. But then again I'm a regular.

Oh and if you are a guard at the Village Market, this may be the appropriate time to quit your job. Guys are pissed it's January.

1 comment: