Friday, December 7, 2007

Drawing Blanks.... or is it Shooting Blanks?

The post started as an expletive on the rationalization for masturbation as the only way forward for mankind and look where I ended up

  • "A man may be tempted by fame and and power but if you really want to test the true character of a man give him power"- a lot of it

  • The word masturbation is believed to derive from either the Greek word "mezea" (μεζεα, "penises") or the Latin manus ("hand") and the Latin turbare ("to disturb") - to disturb yourself. You think you have to have power to do that? ask this guy.

  • Did you know that when you rearrange the letters in the name MONICA LEWINSKY they form NICE SILKY WOMAN?


  • I just found out that City Council paid a Chinese firm a large sum of money to supply them with bulbs for CHOGM made to last for strictly four days- any longer than that and the Chinese would have to give them (city hall) back their money. The ingenious Chinese as they are never wont to falter, stepped up to the challenge. Exactly 4 days; CHOGM was over and the lights went out. Superb!!!

  • And then she said "But you don't love me these days...". To which he promptly replied "Baby if you loved me half as much as you claim you do you would notice that we always paid using my credit card, we have only used yours twice"

  • * [From an older post] "You are stupid!" a friend told a another friend last evening jokingly in reference to a mundane comment made by the latter. The guy sits for second and looks at us all in the room and in a classic retort says:"Stupidity is also a gift from God. Do not abuse it" hhhm...
And That's All We Had Time For Tonight

Thursday, December 6, 2007


I have recently learnt that when fathers bear sons they know them at birth. That while fathers give their sons up to 90% of what they appear like; hair, eyes, bone structure and other physical aspects, mothers give about 85% of the "brains" or whatever you call it; be it cognitive ingenuity or what other coinage you might have for it. The key reason why you can never tell a man a son is not his if he can see his family nose on the kid, or why the African adage holds that not-too-bright-spawn bring shame to their mother.

I have also learnt that when Zeus and his brothers came of age they deposed their fathers, the race of TITANS and took power over the universe as we know it. Zeus, a particularly bad boy, cut off his father's genitals and cast them into the sea for being a philanderer( but I believe in those days it was "Lover". Cronus was shocked. His son had emasculated him because he was a philanderer but to think that he himself had deposed his father Uranus and forced him to disgorge all his children he had eaten. Karma 101. And look at how Zeus(left) turned out; the greatest womanizer on those windy slopes of Mt.Olympus!

Yes, we turn out like our fathers only in greater stature, stead and the prevarication multiplier fully turned on. We lie more them, are braver than they were, we philander more than they ever did and yet bear the ever-increasing beauty of our mothers. This is true, for it is genetically impossible for daughters to be uglier than their mothers*( except when Brad marries Angie and the recessive factor kicks in! but we all expect that!) yes, daughters are always cuter than their mothers! and how we love to love (and inadvertently hate to hate) those things our fathers loved! If you think I am lying ask the Bush family.
* In cases where a daughter is not as beautiful as her mother the reason is either
  • Her Father had totally useless genes
  • Her Mother self reproduced (not common)
  • Her Father pretended to spill the "seed' but actually faked it.
  • There is a twin somewhere in the family(don't ask me where)
But its when the sun has set on your exploits and you have the sexperience of one old Thomas Rush that you truly realize that you are only as good as the genes your father passed onto you, which includes the ability to appreciate humor...or judge it. No offense to some of you, its new its hot. Deal.

These are my thoughts, feel free to disagree, agree or comment.

Monday, August 20, 2007

iN tHis rAnTinG pHasE

After such a long absense, it feels so good to be back. I was reading a couple of blogs recently and it suddenly hit me that a story can be told in a million ways.

You don't know what am talking about?

I will ask you, have you seen the move "300"? How do we know for sure what Xerxes told the Spartan? How do we know that he was not asking for some Spartan action? you know with all those abs, who's to say he was not?Or more realistically how did Ivan know what Kagame told M7? huh? Shady? isn't it? Don't ask me the connotations.

I was then even more thrilled by this guy who was at a dinner conversation with friends; actually his boss who is adorable and all.... this guy thinks he can pull a crack at his boss' profession. So she is talking about an intervention she plans to do somewhere in the North. When she says, "we are going in to do some screening and testing for the girls", he comes back, eyes wide open and a dry:

"Are you going in with the whole cavalry... I mean the stirrups and all?" you should have seen the face of the Mzungu boss go through the phases. By phases, I mean the whole spectrum; white, pink, red, purple, green and all the other shades! suffice to say the imp lost his job.Pronto!

And now to the present, where I hear that that Prodigal son of a University wants to cessede. I was pretty amazed at the tension that has mounted over such a small issue. what I suggest is that the the robbers( yes, robbers!) at the Main Campus should just cut funding to the ingrates, then we'll see who is boss. But perhaps more importantly we should think about all the livelihoods that depend on the fact that this "'university" is open. Lets start at the highest level:

  • The Vice Chancellor who has obstinately refused to relinquish his seat, sound familiar? yeah, they have been having talks on endurance and retention with the grandmaster; at the 7th level. (sorry, didn't mean the pun)
  • Two, the cooks, students and teaching staff in that order. Think about them too! The cooks are the most efficient productive task force the the rat hole has on offer, no offense: I have seen them at work.
  • Third and most importantly, since Al Gore joined the fight for climate change; all the micro-organisms, bacteria, and infectious ilk that live here. What? Don't they have a say in what goes on in their environment? come on!! the students wouldn't know what hit the even if it came in a brown bag marked in bold black "IT". so we recognize the members of society doing their fair share.

But all these are the rantings of a man once sane.

Random quiz: What is the difference between a dozen rodents and a trackfield of women athletes?

Answer: One is a set of cunning runts and the other a set of ..............

......................................see you soon.....................................

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

......of Accidents and Ugandan Jewellers

Sorry I have been out of the blogosphere (shady word) for a while, but i got knocked down by a car.
So I am returning from a late night sojourn at a friend's place at around 11:30pm on Sunday night. Sundays are normally quiet but this is a particularly a serene evening. I am on a motorbike, here called Boda Boda whizzing through town. As I approach the last turn before I get into my neighbourhood, right at the Wandegeya roundabout- famous for having no roundabout or functional streetlights the rider tries to turn into the opposite lane. Suddenly there were lights bearing down on us with ferocious speed. I had an instant to say: "Hey dude look out for the car!!" before we were smashed and thrown into the road on which I was strewn in utter bamboozle(ment).

In the instant that all this is happening I feel the car tires screech to a halt and the bike go under the taxi (read matatu) and the crunch of rubber against steel as the bike is chewed up by the vehicle screeching to a halt. I honestly cannot say how I got there but I was standing away from the accident a few seconds after it happened. 

And just as the vultures (read lumpens/hoodlums/vandals/scum-sucking imbeciles all rolled in to one) set in to scavenge the accident and anything it might have brought in (some blasted idiot left with my school note book!!- can you believe!) I was hit a wave of nausea. These guys were the kind that would knock you out at an accident scene just to be sure that they robbed a dead guy, you know.

I was feeling numb so I immediately call the venue of my last sojourn and inform them of my detour in travel plans. I promptly inform them of the feeling that I think I might be dead and as such could they arrange to see me just to be sure that I am alive.
I am now alive and fully well thanks to the powers that be and my O-ve blood.(its just super!!)
Which reminds me of a thought I was just pondering; how poor jewel dealers in Uganda are...
I mean like gold jewellers. Uganda must be the only country in the world where jewellers are poor. This thought was provoked by a shady calendar I saw in an office somewhere that had really plain pages and a picture of an Indian woman on it. So I am asking myself how does an Indian jeweler market jewellery made in China adorned on an indian woman designed on a paper printed at the cheapest place on Nasser road(a place where I hear you can anything made; even the ancient sea scrolls- if you can pay) to a Ugandan who pays with money printed in Europe without giving the impression that the Ugandan is inferior?
While everywhere across the world jewellers go on holidays and are always travelling to attend conventions or just to plain re-stock their stores in Uganda they just sit and sit and when they are tired they sit some more because the Ugandan has the art of jewellery almost down to a tee. 

They have "Gold" for special occassions and then they have 'gold' for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.... The idea is that the you cant know which the real gold is. Is it the one that can stand the wear and tear of the mad house called Kampala and the fake for the special occassions because it shines so much? Or is it the other way around because the fake can fade and no one will know?hhhhmm..... My thoughts took this turn for a while and I was pretty convinced I was right.

I muse over this and in this state I asked a woman of considerable repute to enlighten me on matters in this regard and this was her response:
"You buy two pieces of fake gold and wear one more often than the other, that way you are always shining!" This Ingenious woman of kampala added, "That way we can all avoid wearing real gold. Its much cheaper"

Together, For the World...And Beyond


Friday, January 26, 2007

Really Random Thoughts?

1.The taxi with the spinners is UAH 860- for purposes of saving the guy his skin I will not mention his last plate digit. However the most amazing thing is the phrase written at the back of his taxi "Katonda Talya Ngguzzi" which directly translates to "God does not take bribes." hhhm... what are the powers that be up to?

2. I found it very interesting yesterday when my friend was describing a meeting with his ex and he put it in very simple terms why he did not relish the thought of meeting her again. This was after we put him to task to explain why he had not said hullo:
"What, you expected me to greet her with an orgasmic aaah!!"?

3.An American friend once told me a joke I thought was very funny. Recently I repeated this same joke to another American.She has never spoken to me again. This was the joke:
Q: Why is Ray Charles always smiling?
A: Because he does not know that he is Black.

4.Then there was the really awkward situation where I went with a friend to meet with a girl who we invited over to join us for dinner.We get to the venue, order, and wait for the food. We get our orders and start eating. Then after the meal we are discussing coffee or ice cream. The guys agree on coffee. We get to paying the bill and then we all pay our respective bills and she glances at each of us intermittently before stating in the coldest, harshest tone I ever heard a woman use:
"You guys are not serious. you are also disgusting! I hate you!!" This was after one of us said , rather casually "We are each paying our own bill". All this aggression for a bill? The reason why some people's reputation precedes them.

5. Then there is the sleazy journalist who never stops imitating what she sees on TV and keeps listening to BBC to download absurd stories of how a man of Caucasian extraction was caught with a lobster in his underwear. So the Japanese like fish, and the Chinese smell like it, but isn't this too personal? I must meet her and question her as to this kind of reporting.

6. "You are stupid!", my friend told a mutual friend last evening jokingly in reference to a mundane comment made by the latter. The guy sits for second and looks at us all in the room and in a classic retort says:
"Stupidity is also a gift from God. Do not abuse it" hhhm... The powers that be again?

Chillin' in the city of Flavor

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

...........WHAT DO I SEE?

I have this crazy test tomorrow but I figure I'll make a living out of this bogging stuff so I wont need a job. So here are my thoughts on some of the weird things as seen by a Ugandan in Uganda.

1. the taxi with spinners on its rims. I was walking in the middle of a sweaty, day trying so desperately to find a replacement for my lost stuff and then BAM!!
right in the middle of the road is this random taxi with shiny new spinners on its wheels. It was so new it even had no plates but miraculously it was carrying passengers to a destination. My question is : If a car has no registration, it probably has no license or insurance, right? So how in the pigs of Russia do you let it on to the highway to carry pedestrians? huh?

2. The thief who stole my prize drawers.... this is still an issue for me and much as I hate to dwell on old stuff, i think this woman is somewhere having herself a good time. She must be slurping with satisfaction that she managed to pull off a feat like that. I am disappointed that she did not notice that of the two underwear she stole one was holed in the back for my days when I have gastronomic congruities to allow easy exit and the second belonged to Mark, my six foot 300 pound neighbor who had been locked out of his room by a roommate. That was how they ended up with my prizes. If she thought the goods I carry are a 20 stone size she now knows she has been screwed!!

3. Ladies who never stop trying to get you into the habit of spending on them.I am soon becoming an authority on this. Perhaps I should apply to Cambridge for a Doctorate in this field. There is a way ladies (no matter what breed or race) seem to never tire of trying to get you to mine your own pockets dry to furnish their egos. This is not even their hunger, its all about the ego. Examples you ask? Imagine you ask a lady whether you can buy her a drink, the answers are instant: no or yes. Though I often hear the latter more. Then imagine her asking you whether she can buy you a drink....
My brother stop IMAGINING!!!!

I am going to stop here and beg to continue this very soon... till then

If you thought being a man is hard trying being a young man... You don't even have the brains to work with!

p.s By the way "Per adua ad Astra" is actually like that not the Kansas state motto.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Per Adua Ad Astra!!

..................(Through Hardship To The Stars!)

I am going to my best friend's send off and then some random guy thinks it is a good idea to send off my phone too!!
Yeah!! you may not believe it but my phone was robbed too. I am still in awe of the powers that be at this incongruous circumvention of cataclysmic events. Should I be? I don't know honestly. This is less than 22 hours after a guy wiped out my whole closet and thought it good to just not let me know. He even took my prize underwear so now I have to be very careful with the pair that I have so that it does not get soiled before end of day. I tell you I am living the life of a hermit.

Am sure the guy who stole my phone was a male; this at least am sure about. The rest is pretty hazy. Me seated on a motor bike chasing the matatu (public transport vehicle) across town does not seem to register at first thought. So I am depressed, broke, hungry( haven't eaten in close to 28 hours)
My friend has his send-off which is really a great quiet time in which we reflected about his stay in this Beautiful Shithole(Oxymoron? tell me a better way to describe this country) for the last 8 months. We shared of travels to forbidden lands, prospects of meeting on a street in Washington DC and some pretty shocking revelations. Witnesses ? Jackfruity was there.
And today in between trying to say goodbye to him and recovering my phone, I was in the throes of agonizing regret that I did not spend more time with him.
I mean what tribute is there to a guy who has been lost with you in a forest in the middle of an impenetrable jungle where the people start playing flutes of rejoicing that you are lost (probably in anticipation of dinner).
What do you say to a guy who has been accosted by a rat the size of a goat (for all he knows) in your house?
There is no literary expletive to even bring half of the times and memories made and shared to the imagination of the bystander.
The only thing I will say is that when an In An African Minute was born we never had an inkling that the idea would yield a character so bold and yet so strong.

May the sun bow wherever he meets you
May the stars always be resplendent of your valor
May the ladies always be ware of your omnicient charm
And to the ends of the earth, may you find that which completes us all.
Neither Harry Belafonte nor Jeffrey Sachs wish you as much.

Peace Out Josh.

Monday, January 22, 2007


You cannot guess what happened to me while I was posting my first blog yesterday.
While I was writing my maiden blog the imbecile came to my place and took all my property. My place was broken into and robbed.They waltzed in, neatly folded 9 dress shirts and all the trousers I own. S/He also saw it fit to take my underwear. So now I have to get back to my place early so I can wash and hang my underwear to dry for use the next day. This is what my dad calls a "coping mechanism."
I hate that the guy did not leave a note saying where he was going with all the stash. I intend to find the little son of a Mitch(i like that!) and question him in no unkind manner.
So goes my day of the week; a wonderful beginning to the week, don't you think?
I said if you can find a life to live more full of intrigue than Yours Trully's speak now or forever shut that trap!!
And you know why I was not in my place when the act of larceny was committed? I had gone to see this girl who was explaining(...actually she was asking) why we could never cut it me and her. She ended with a threatening note in her voice.
So am thinking that the person who stole my stuff was a woman....
Yeah I'll let that hang in the air for a while
Coz of the following:
1.some one trying to get back at me for a broken heart I instituted against her person at some distant time in our past.
2. Or possibly that girl whose guy left because I suggested that she had rabbit ears and didn't brush her teeth too often...was it her?
3.Or was it the one who found out that I told I was 5 years older than my real age and was willing to accept me as I was ......until my mom found out.
4, the more likely culprit is my most recently enstranged acquitance who sought my hand in enslavement (read marriage) but was told by a rumour doing the grapevine that I was a transvestite gay guy. The only glitch in the plan was she found out that I was at some point responsible for starting the rumour.
Have your pick but I'll have my money on Number 3.
There is a phrase I have been reciting lately:
"Never get too attached to something that you can't afford to lose it"
Yesterday I rued ever saying that phrase.

See you on the flip side

Sunday, January 21, 2007


.....Of incoherent speech and thought.
How many people do you know who in the course of one week live to tell a tale of a night at the police station at 3:00am, undercover detective work, a couple of odd propositions, an HIV/AIDS communication plan, all the while doubling as a student in the daytime. I have always had the suspicion that I was paranormal until recently when I had a rude reminder of this:
Doing the work I do requires the clairvoyance of a warlock and I should say here and now the tact of a spy.
The week begins with me trying to trace bags that were supposed to have come in from Heathrow London (sounds like a crappy 90's movie beginning ,I know.) The airport had mistakenly decided not to include someone's bags on the flight to Kampala. I am charged on the pain of death to find the bags and deliver them. I have to pull strings so high that I feel the airport is about to declare me anational threat to get the bags but I do. This is all after having an extremely embarrassing situation on Entebbe road in which a woman gets out of her car and prostrates before me; i wonder why. Oh she was in tears too!!
I walk up to this lady... cool accent, great perfume, with a sense of unbeatable self. I tell her:
Me: hi have you noticed that your red hair has brown roots?
Her: Did you just say what i think you said?
Me: what do you think??

And I walk away from her and then drama begins to happen as she realises that her saloonist did a shody job with her hair. i do not want to tell you what happened when she realised that I was messing with her,I still have the marks.

Tie into all of this why i love wearing black and you'll know why the Blogger's Happy Hour was a light moment in my week; excruciating as it was. I was nursing a lot of wounded parts and in mournig.
I guess the true proof that I am paranormal is that am writing all of this for you to read.
But kudos to you all!!
May we all live to see eachother die off.(A happy thought)hah?
Till next week