The Code of Conduct

I’m sure in the short or semi-long life you’ve lived, a few codes of conduct have been thrown around. Perhaps even more important that the constitution might be Bro Code. This is an elaborate manual of how bros shall conduct themselves around each other. In case you have no idea, I outlined some here, you can always follow up.

I however, realized not everyone is a bro. So what happens when a bro who is not really a bro claims you have gone against the code? Do you suffer the consequences or do you get a pass? These are grey areas that need to be addressed and who better to set standards for communication that a keeper of codes?

A female can be a bro, after vetting

It has come to our attention that some bros from the fairer sex have been denied Bro status despite meeting all the set standards. Let’s make this clear, a bro is someone who comes through in tough times and what’s a harder time than a dry spell?

If a sister can deliver and lob you an Ozil-like pass in these treacherous times, she has more than qualified to be a bro. Some alleged bros feel their hunger pangs are supernatural and will never extend a favour even when in possession of a full platter.

A bro shall be of any sex as long as they come through.

A bro shall not depend on females for money

Let’s put it this way, if you were dead broke and there was nothing left in your chamber of coins, you shall die as a man. It is stated in the broble that a lady shall not give you money and forget. She will always remind you even when it has nothing to do with the money. Some alleged bros have also made it a habit to live off ladies, you are no longer bros.

The only exception when getting cash requisitions from the opposite sex is given to the following groups; your mother, sister and grandmother. Even if the lady is a bro, don’t do it. You never know when she might decide to turn back.

Bros still do not carry handbags

The bro code does not allow you to carry a handbag, even if it belongs to your mother. Handbags are made for ladies and it should remain as that. Even as Valentine’s Day approaches and you want to impress that lady that’s denied you access to her panties, this is not allowed. This is why equity is more important that equality.

There are always scenarios where you may have to carry this accessory. In the event that your mother or sister wants to give you money and the bag is a significant distance away, you can deliver it. If you’re with your girl in a dangerous area. You however, have to carry it in a plastic bag. In the event your significant other blacks out and in this case you need to admit her to a rehab centre.

Bros shall not lie about a conquest to intimidate bros

A new trend that has emerged is of bros earning script writing and editing skills without attending any professional institution. Some bros have made it a habit to always exaggerate conquests or imagine them for the less fortunate.

A bro that lies about a conquest shall not only be disbanded for a given period (depending on the severity). This act may push weaker or less lucky bros to depression and it would not be for a valid cause as stated in the broble.

A bro shall always pay their debt

Bros who do not pay debts may have to go back to the friend zone. A crop of bros has risen from the tribe of Judas that do not like paying debts. A bro is obligated to help a bro in the event of an emergency but only if the needy bro has a good track record of filing returns.

A bro that has a poor credit score shall always be met with the dreadful, “I’m not in a good place right now.” Make it your goal as a bro to always keep your word and other bros shall have no issue handing over their hard earned money.

 

 

The little things

It’s been a while since I got mind clear to write anything that wouldn’t sound weird but I realized I always write unorthodox things so why not. I’m still the same age I was on December 31st so I’m not really a year older yet but I wish you all the best in 2017. In the time I’ve been away from my blog a lot has happened.

So I went on holiday and I came back with a few stories. First is the saying, you never know what you’ve got until it’s gone. My cousin happens to be a doctor and when we’re bored, I like listening to random stories about his patients. So, one evening we’re talking and cancer comes up and he started giggling. Not, the school girl giggle, the grown man one where you let out chuckles. It was manly, trust me.

After inquiring he goes on to tell me about the story of a guy who passed away from penile cancer. It sounds very cruel, but give it time, it takes a completely different turn of events. Well, the story goes like this. A guy is brought to the hospital with advanced penile cancer and the only option is to dismember his most loyal member.

The guys went through all the pep talk of why he needed to do it if he was to enjoy more days on this our barren earth. After weighing the pros and cons, it occurred to him there was more to life than a boner. I mean, you can still feel that tiny throb even if the key instrument is missing. So he went ahead with the surgery.

Guess what? He survived and was in his room recovering when the anesthesia wore off. As a man, you’re taught to face your fears and he most certainly did. He lifted his cover, took a peek and remembered how his wife liked being on all fours even when not cleaning the house. He let out a loud yelp and collapsed on his bed.

What would you do if you woke up and found your manhood missing?

And just like that, Wuon Ng’ane was no more. I burst out laughing as well but I sort of got where he was coming from. Picture a scenario where he asks his wife for something and she replies with a, “No wonder you don’t have a penis.” That can take the last breath from any man, even the former ones. No offence Caitlyn.

I also managed to face one of my fears over Christmas. Well, I didn’t necessarily face it willingly, but I still did. Anyone that knows me, will tell you large water bodies and I do not appear in the same sentence. So last year, my cousin invited us to her place since she was opening a new house, which was just beautiful. I mean, it had a bar inside and yeah, it had a bar with the stools and everything. That’s all you need to make a house attractive scientifically.

The distance between her home and ours is about 230km so we had a journey on our hands. The logical thing would have been to follow the set road and get to our destination. But no, my uncle had this random idea that we should use the ferry because it took less time and would have been scenic.

On the way there, the old man decides we can’t get to our destination early so we made a detour to this resort on Rusinga Island. It’s set on a picturesque slope that runs down to the lake. The cottages are the simplest things you’ll come across and you could tell a lot of thought was put into building them.

One of the cottages at Wayando Beach Eco Lodge

The owner is an American lady who was married to a guy from the area and she decided to relocate there even after her partner’s passing. It made me think, would I have done the same? Moved to Los Angeles and start a business there? Since you’ve insisted, I think I would.

Time came for us to get to the other side of the lake and I was not enthusiastic at all. One, the company in-charge of the ferries had the most incompetent employees and did I mention I don’t like large water bodies? You have to reverse your car into the ferry, sounds easy but not when a random old guy has puppies stuffed in a carton box and doesn’t want to move.

This was the moment of truth

As a driver, I was at liberty to stay in the vessel and I gladly chose to do that. I didn’t like it one bit. It took a whole 45 minutes and I couldn’t see where I was going. At one point it was just the wind, hyacinth and the lady in the next car checking me out until she fell asleep and started snoring.  We did get to the other side unscathed but I chose to use the longer route on the way back.

What happens when this thing runs out of fuel here?

I spent twelve days in the village and I came to appreciate a few things. Family is one. They may annoy you and get on your nerves at times but some of the best memories I have are with family. Like my grandmother telling me drinking whisky will “Mak ii ka chieth!” loosely translating to it will churn my stomach like shit.

It’s another year and I honestly have no resolutions. I treat each day exclusively. I will rate my achievements gradually. You need to appreciate the smaller things in life (Like your penis) in order to get the bigger picture. So far, it’s not been a bad year, except for the doctor’s strike which is a tricky subject depending on what side of the paycheck you’re seated.

I also got a message from a lovely lady that told me she likes my writing. She may have been paid by my mother for all I know but it was still a good thing. Get checked for cancer early enough and keep it 87+3 whenever you can, because keeping 100 is too mainstream.

One man can make a difference

In life every experience is a lesson and I’m a good student, you can ask anyone that shared a class with me in University. I’m those students that have five different types of pens and divide my notes according to the lecturer and their mood. My notes got people A’s. Of course they can’t step up and say, “You my G are the real MVP.” They’d rather take that shine, but I’m good, I’m beaming.

So, in the past month or two I’ve been really quiet and haven’t really posted anything. I’d blame writer’s block but honestly, I lacked inspiration. I didn’t have anything that made me want to sit down in my cotton-white white boxers, with a glass of red wine and just jot down my thoughts. Every time I got myself in a position to write, I would jot down two lines and that was it.

My front desk mate at work kept on pressuring me to write and even went to the extent of calling me to write when I was on holiday. She’s got a lot of nerve but she also triggered a lot of thought in me. I’ve seen a lot happen over the days. Just today in the morning, a friend lost his daughter. You try your best to find something appropriate to say but what can you say?

“I’m sorry, she’s in a better place? That was God’s plan?” I haven’t talked to him and doubt I’ll be saying anything any time soon but I feel his pain. And that is partly what made me want to write. I remember this one post I wrote in 2013 and I was at a very low point in my life. I wrote it as a diary, not necessarily target to lift anyone or anything along those lines.

One lady called me after that and we talked at length about what I was experiencing. She was going through a hard time and my post spoke directly to her. I have the ‘Scopare il mondo. Salvare la tua anima’ mentality. However, when you can help one person have a good day, isn’t that good thing? So I decided I’ll write today. I don’t know what my subject is but I’m just going with the flow, the words will come as I go on.

I’ve been brought up around a close knit family so I value friendship, loyalty and respect. In the recent past I’ve been in situations where I’ve done things that I had no responsibility doing but did them anyway. What I’ve come to understand is that we’re not all the same. Some people will show you gratitude for what you offer while others will not.

But does that mean I should change and stop helping people because a few people couldn’t show gratitude? I would but I wouldn’t live in comfort knowing I could’ve done something but chose to do nothing. Over time you may realize, it’s the small things that matter. You can have money but you will barely ever have the most money.

Happiness is innate. You derive your joy from within and that’s what most of us have failed to grasp. We rely on other people to give you joy. When was the last time you enjoyed your own company? Just sat by yourself and did something you love for your own satisfaction? If I said one more time that I’m not in a relationship, you’d think I’m advertising my singlehood. Well, I am but that’s beside the point.

I see people suffer and sacrifice more than they need to for relationships to work. The word doesn’t even have real in it so most people do it just for the cameras and likes. Companionship needs more than love and posting your significant other as an MCM or WCW. It needs you to know there’s an equal distribution good as bad with anyone.

I don’t picture perfection in any situation but I have visions of ideal situations. A situation where you treat other people with the respect they deserve and not manipulate or take advantage of them. It may not work in a capitalistic world where everyone is interested in their own wellbeing even if it comes at the expense of other people.

What’s really sad is that most people would rather play the victim nowadays. You’d rather shift blame to someone else to avoid taking responsibility. It’s always some else’s fault which begs the question, what is your responsibility?

The sooner you learn you are not just on the world but of the world the better. Play your part in building a better society and spreading a smile to different faces across the globe. You just like the next person are good at something. It may not be raking in any money bit it can make a difference.

Try cutting your pinky off and see how efficient your hand will be. I bet you’re not so willing to take the risk but you know you’ll lose almost half of your hand’s functionality. So what makes you think that even without being the most outspoken figure, you can’t make a difference?

Don’t give anyone the power to determine your happiness. People will disappoint you and make excuses for their own failures. But there are people who will also uplift you and show you the good side of humanity we barely get to see.

It’s a matter of perspective and you choose what you want to see. If something bad happens, take your time, deal with it in your own way and find a way to get past it. Time is the only true healer. I’ve ranted a lot but I think I needed to just note down what was in my head and put it out there.

I also don’t think Hillary lost because she’s a woman like everyone is trying to portray it. Trump may not have been your favourite but he was elected in a legally due process and the least you can do is give him time to succeed or fail. The power lies in your hands, you just need to show how badly you want it.

 

When they come in between you

“I’m not sure this is working out,” said Turner as Shirley sat on the sofa with her face buried in her hands. He walked out of the door with tears in his eyes knowing it was either him or her. Turner and Shirley had been dating for two years but their relationship had hit a rocky patch and despite everything they tried, things always seemed to get worse.

They met in their final year of college and instantly took to liking each other. Tim was mango; soft on the outside but rough on the inside. He was always calm on normal occasions but he would occasionally let the rough side come out.

Shirley on the other hand was a free spirit. A very decent lady who was easy to get along with. She did her best to make everyone happy and was everyone’s favourite. Their friendship was based on the fact that both of them came from low points in their lives and found comfort in putting a smile on each other’s faces.

Their friendship grew over the course of time and so did their trust in each other. At first, it was nothing more than mutual concern for each other’s wellbeing. Shirley was concerned that Turner had was too aloof with his emotions and barely let anyone get past the basics of knowing him. She was concerned that he was suffering in silence and it was affecting his social life.

Turner on the other hand was interested in Shirley because he felt she was not fulfilling her full potential. She was always doing her best not to offend anyone and in the end she would end up getting hurt. He had seen this before and had been on the opposite end of the spectrum. He knew what it felt like to hurt someone and see their life spiral out of control.

In Shirley, he saw a lady that would take him to heights he had not experienced before. She was calm, focused, beautiful and made him appreciate the little things in life. She had been through a lot in her life but you couldn’t tell from the smile she always showed the world. Turner saw the smile and all the possibilities that were behind that smile.

Shirley liked Turner for who he was. He was a bit younger than her but they found comfort in each other. Over time, they grew closer and all those hugs and laughter turned to a kiss goodbye and sharing of great moments together. Things were taking their course and you could tell these two were meant to be together.

Both valued their privacy and kept their exploits under wraps. They didn’t want anyone to know what they were up to and kept their secret between them. Things were going well for the two and there was nothing but love between them. For a while, nothing could go wrong because it was always what they meant to each other that mattered.

After graduating college, they both found themselves in different industries. Turner found himself in the media industry and Shirley was in the marketing field. These were environments they had not been exposed to in their lives. They were both on field assignment and this meant they had to spend time apart.

The distance didn’t make much difference in the beginning because they would always yearn for each other. Their romance grew as they would be happy to see each other and would tear the place apart. Time was beginning to bring some distance between them though. Turner was always working late and would not find adequate time to spend with Shirley.

Shirley didn’t find any problem in him not being around and always did her best to make herself available. At work, Turner was having a hard time at all the staff parties keeping to himself to avoid putting himself in a precarious situation. He would stay up late, barely drink and head home. He kept this up for a while but he finally caved in.

He would go out with his colleagues on a regular basis and found comfort in his assignment partner, Mish. She was in a relationship with a business man who was barely around. She would confide in Turner and tell him about her love life. Turner would listen to her and they found themselves spending more time together.

Whenever they worked late, they would have a glass or two of scotch before heading home. One night, Mish was very uneasy. She kept on checking her phone and was absent minded. “What’s up today?” asked Turner as he handed her a glass of scotch. “It’s nothing.” She replied still looking at her phone. “Come on. It’s me. You know you can tell me anything.” He said as she put her phone aside.

“Well, it’s my wedding anniversary and my husband hasn’t even sent me a message,” she replied as tears rolled down her cheeks. Turner sat on her desk facing and placed his glass on her desk. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be back,” he said with a smile. He ran out of the office and came back with a gift in his hand.

“Happy anniversary!” She took the unexpected gift and her eyes were filled with tears. “When did you get this?” she asked amid sobs. “I listen,” he replied as he embraced her. They spent the night drinking and headed home at almost dawn.

Turner walked into the house and Shirley was waiting for him. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick? Couldn’t you even have called?” Turner couldn’t explain the fact that he had spent the night out with someone’s wife on her anniversary while his girlfriend spent the night worrying about him.

That was the beginning of their problems. Mish would call Turner anytime she felt lonely and he would heed her call. His actions made him and Shirley drift apart. Suddenly, the fun filled sex escapades were replaced by arguments and mistrust.

Shirley started drifting from Turner and their affection was slowly being washed down the drain. She couldn’t understand how Turner could forget where they came from because of a stranger. Turner on the other hand couldn’t understand how the person he’d opened up to didn’t trust him enough to be on his own.

On the fateful day, Turner was working late and it had skipped his mind that he and Shirley were supposed to have dinner. She called his phone and Mish answered. Shirley felt that Turner had crossed the line and betrayed her. She called a friend over because she needed someone to talk to.

As they sat at the dining table, she started crying. Her friend went over to her and hugged her. As he leaned in looking into her eyes, Turner walked in. He froze and dropped his laptop bag. He picked up his bag, walked past them and went to the bedroom. Shirley’s friend left and she went into the bedroom.

“How could you?” She asked with tears in her eyes. Turner didn’t utter a word as he packed a pair of boxers, socks and a t-shirt in his bag. He was burning with rage but he loved Shirley to much too let it show. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she shouted following him into the living room. “I’m not sure this is working out,” said Turner as Shirley sat on the sofa with her face buried in her hands. He walked out of the door with tears in his eyes knowing it was either him or her.

 

 

Such is Life

Freedom works best for the free,

And the free and not necessarily free,

We are bound by promises,

Shackled by lies and deceit,

But such is life.


At times freedom is painful,

You have to let go,

Give another life,

At your own expense,

But such is life.


Do not cry for me,

For I will not do the same,

Trust is not always rewarded with loyalty,

Sometimes, it begets betrayal,

But such is life.


Live well and do good,

Expect nothing in return,

Be welcoming but be cautious,

Those you sleep with can stab you,

Because such is life.

The case of the insignificant other

It’s Monday lads, four days closer to the weekend. That should tell you the weekend just breezed by like a slipped fart and just like the aforementioned slip up, there must be something fishy. Well, I like to observe people when I go out. Not the creepy kind of observation. I don’t sit at a corner with a coloured straw drink with tight pants looking at random people.

I sit in the middle of the club in evenly fitting clothes sipping on redbull and water constantly distracted by an ass or two. It would be weird to be distracted by one ass. Like, “Check out that left butt cheek son! It’s got jiggle for days!” I’m not that weird though I would like to point out that most Instagram models have irregularly toned butts from their postures.

So back to the case at hand. A night out is the best time to follow up with anything you feel isn’t right. Today, it the insignificant other. From the term you’re probably thinking it’s a side chick or one of those broads you hit in nothing but broad daylight. No, that isn’t the case here. Actually, the insignificant other is usually very significant to the blind lad.

We all have that one lad that thinks he’s got it all figured out. Bring up sports, he’s the Jorge Mendes of all fields. Talk about politics, he’s the Nelson Mandela of liberating you from your ignorance. Mention music, he’s the Dr. Dre to your beat up ideas. Don’t even bring up relationships because he puts Dr. Phil and Maury to shame.

This is the lad with “The Girl”. The thing about words that have the previously mentioned article right before them is that they are usually horse shit. You get a guy that tells you, “I’m the man,” he’s probably not good at whatever he claims to be good at.

Lads, the insignificant other is usually your main lady. From inside she’s a total bitch but since you want to be life’s Don Juan, you suffer in silence. I like happy relationships just like every other guy out there. I watched all seasons of Spartacus and only forwarded through the violent bits. So when I see a good thing, I can tell a good thing and Spartacus was too damn good.

These lasses aren’t really bad people. They want the best for you in life and know that you’ll succeed if you cut off your lads. I liken these kind of ladies to a biblical character. He only wants the best for you in your life, at least that’s what he claims. Some call him Diablo, others Lucifer or if you’re still elementary, Satan.

As earlier stated, I have nothing against beneficial relationships and everyone deserves to have one as long as it’s consensual. The thing is you can help your lad grow without necessarily taking the life out of him. Unless you raised this lad and took care of him from birth to the point where you want to dig out your innards, he’s not an island.

Lads have been known to explore and in their late teens and twenties, they try to find their bearing in a cruel world. So when you cut out your lad from the world and expect him to progress, I have no doubt you’re an offspring of Satan. You’re probably wondering, why isn’t he talking about the lad? It’s simple, lads can be confused by trivial things such as ego.

As a lad though, if you have a sassy Sheila at home and wonder why your boys never involve you in anything, take heart. In fact, just take your heart, slip it into your pocket and slowly creep out of that house at midday. It would be hard to escape at night because she probably has your phone and even if she doesn’t, you answer it together. For my free lads in healthy relationships, that might just be the best gift in life.

Everyone Falls

It started with sight,

Saw her beautiful eyes,

Her lips glistened in the sun,

Her white teeth caught my attention,

Everyone falls at one point.


I said hi,

She was shy,

Not too willing to let it out at first,

She held back,

But everyone falls.


A hi turned to a handshake,

A handshake to a shared laugh,

The shared laugh to texts,

The texts to an occasional hug,

But we all fall at times.


Went from talking a few times a day,

To spending time together,

Everything was fine,

Time was taking its course,

Was this the time to fall?


Shared an interest in each other,

Wanted the best for each other,

But probably weren’t best for each other,

Only time would tell,

We were on our knees.


Cracks started to emerge,

Faults on a smooth surface,

Rough on the outside,

Breaking down inside,

Is this what happens when you fall?


But everyone falls sometime,

It’s not a crime,

We let emotion take its course,

Made the best of what we had,

But you can fall out as easily as you fell in.

 

The Nairobi Lad Chronicles

All lads have that one friend that likes sharing. Not necessarily sharing anything with you, but generally shares their groin with any willing lass. This lad isn’t usually the Alpha male but he’s worked out the Science of getting ladies to remove or otherwise readjust their panties. In the ideal world, we’d like to be this lad. But do you really want to be this lad?

Say you’ve gone out for booze with the boys in a new location. Same town, same crowd, different setting. Everyone’s brought out their significant other for the night and you as The Lad have picked among your low hanging fruits and brought the freshest one out.

All’s going well. You’re busy searching her inner thighs for any foreign object, tongue checking for any mouth ulcers while maintaining a convo with the lads. What can go wrong, right? Well, there’s not really much that can go south unless another lass you’ve been schmoozing with shows up at the same venue.

This is where all that calculus and probability you thought would never be applied in life comes in handy. The probability that she checks in at midnight with another dude in tow is relatively high. The actual probability of her hoping to bump into you is quite low.

The probability of her accompanying a buddy and her guy is quite high. Also, the probability of her not finding a seat and walking right into your section and finding smooth-thighed lass on your lap is extremely high. Now let’s do the math and see the probability of two of these scenarios taking place at the same time and what the aftermath might be.

In this case, let’s hypothesize that she’s accompanied her buddy and her dude and walks into your section looking for a spot to sit. What do you do as a lad?

  1. Do you freeze and act confused?
  2. Do you drop the hot pocket from your thighs?
  3. Do you smile, act happy to see her and welcome her?
  4. Do you induce vomit and drive yourself home?
  5. All of the above?

Well, lads, this is one of those situations where the cosine and tangent of fucking up is very high. In my case, 5 would have been the most suitable answer, because I’ve learnt how to eat my cake and can the cunt I can’t. In this scenario, The Lad, smiles, welcomes the lady to an already full spot knowing quite clearly she would not fit, based on sheer volume.

Lads have always been known to stand by each other and in this scenario there would also have been two outcomes. The lady can take the bluff, take a seat and see what you do next. This one is tricky because, you aren’t sure what the end goal is. You might end up with two lasses at the end of the night, one angry lass or none depending on upbringing.

If she chooses to stay calm all night and deny you the formerly forbidden fruit in the future, you my lad are lucky. Alternatively, she may choose to mess your whole night and sucker punch your lady to yesterday. A punched lady will not take kindly to being knocked out cold while looking hot and you will most likely drop her home and have your number blocked.

If she’s punched and still chooses to go home with you; it’s best to invest in some whips, latex, handcuffs, chains and a mouth gag. You’ve got yourself a freak. As a lad, you need to learn how to make your moves. Sometimes the hunter hunts the wrong prey and ends up sleeping hungry. Keep it lad and don’t forget, take her as far as possible. Something about a bird in hand and bushes.

In pursuit of love

Go after what you love,

It’s all worth it in the end,

Face your fears,

The greatest fear is your fear,

So they said.


I went after what I loved,

Pursued it to the world ends,

Sacrificed my life,

Gave it to my love,

Pursue your love they said.


Almost caught up,

But she wasn’t in the mood,

I had to procrastinate my love,

Shelve it for another day,

All in pursuit of love.


I finally caught up,

She in the right frame of mind,

Ready to kick things off,

Make us a thing,

Pronounce our love to the world.


I loved her,

So I let her go,

Because love isn’t a science,

There’s no perfect time,

Love waits for no man.

 

Passion of the fruit: The case of the escaped bandits

I’ve documented a few parties that I’ve been to in the past and most people tend to think they are fictional. I’m as real as a silent fart in the lift. I’m not old but hanging around older people has made me lose touch with things I should otherwise be doing.

For instance, I had nothing to do today and I could have put on my white boxers and watched Nat Geo. But that wasn’t going to happen, was it? I had to have an experience that would make me turn to my trusted keyboard. Well, unfortunately, I made the mistake of disrespecting my instinct and now I’m a wanted felon.

So a guy I consider to be my G invited me for a mini party. He’d just moved out and you know how people operate. I needed to know where he lived just in case I was in the vicinity and a random lady saw it fit to share her cookie with me. I work on weekends, and I like going home immediately after work.

I was going to do the same thing on this particular day but you know how the devil works. Well, Devil, or D as we call him in the streets, convinced these two ladies that give my balls a tingling sensation. They plotted and convinced me to make a technical appearance at a party and then head out.

That sounded fine to me. A technical appearance doesn’t last more than one hour, does it? I was the first at the place because I didn’t want to be the new guy at the office that thinks he’s too cool for everyone. In the real sense I am. I chew on mint all day long and have ice tatted right above my heart. It doesn’t get cooler than that.

So yeah, we went to the guy’s place and we chatted for a minute. I was busy sipping on Fanta (Panda things) and he was flirting with vodka. Time was dragging its ass and I was staring at my watch and cussing in my head. Why was I cussing? You see, I am not the largest guy in the room. This particular friend is like twice my size.

I don’t know what alcohol does to him so I wasn’t willing to sit back and find out. Luckily, another guy showed up. A short while later another guy showed up. At this point I was thinking, “Haha! I knew this was going to be one major sausage fest. I’m out!” Then I remembered there were two ladies that were supposed to have been at the party by then.

I was not amused by the whole five guys waiting on two chics thing. I was not about to run a train with ninjas who fart when dancing. The host got a call from another lady and I thought that was my cue to leave. So I followed them out so that I could get a bus home. At this point I called the two missing ladies to inform them of my imminent departure.

I was the one who was supposed to be angry but I was the one who ended up going down (not literally) and offering a solution. So there we were, three ninjas and one very light lady. A few moments later, two more ladies came and we headed back to my boy’s digs.

We get there, there are two more ninjas I didn’t leave there and a lady. The lady I was cool with but the ninjas I was wary of. They served me alcohol without even knowing my name and I think I already mentioned something about looking good before, so I opted out of it. I sipped on my thoughts for a while.

Just when things were starting to get lit and the ladies were getting comfortable with their preferred mates, the main man came. We’ll call him Carlitos for today. Carlitos had with him a fair lady and I can tell you for free, some bile was being swallowed in that room. He peed around her like a real dog would and made sure everyone knew, “This is mine!” I respected that and even threw up a few gang signs to show my approval.

All this time I was picturing myself in boxers watching Spongebob. The ladies I was waiting for finally arrived and yes, they did look edible. I immediately asked for a platter and served myself a bit of each one of them. They were classy enough to bottle their tea. Ok, it was cream liquor but there’s someone who thought it was tea.

At this point, everything was as calm as unaroused nipples. We went to the rooftop and lit one for our ancestors and another one just in case the last one didn’t reach them. I felt so calm after a few hits and the girls and I bonded in the city’s view before we decided to go back although I was shortchanged because boobs were supposed to be flying everywhere.

Now, this is where the party started. Two of the first three girls we picked up were in the zone. The first, Chairlady, was doing things I watch on YouTube under the cover. She was on that grade A Jamaican ratchetry. I’m talking about that one leg in the air, ass on someone’s crotch and still sipping on your drink type of dancing. I had to remove my glasses and clean them just to confirm they weren’t playing tricks on me.

I also forgot to say, I was in shorts, white shoes and black socks; I was a cholo. I sandwiched myself in-between  the two lasses and went on to zone out. It wasn’t fruitful because every time I tried to chill, Chairlady would do something that would make me cringe but still strong enough to give me a minor boner.

Remember the two guys who kept on serving people drinks? Yes, those guys were now scrambling for the few ladies we had at the venue. I’m a chill guy, so I just sat between ladies massaging my ego. Alcohol isn’t breast milk or soup and it certainly doesn’t help when you don’t have limits. So the host was fried at this point and gave lap dances to unwilling patrons (female if I may add).

I knew things would go south when one guy was dry humping one of the ladies. And no, it was not in a secluded area, right in front of our eyes. Another guy was grinding on a girl and I think he must have bust a nut because he did a one leg shake when the track stopped playing. His eyes also turned egg white so there must have been more white elsewhere.

All this while, one of the ladies that convinced me to attend the party was insistent on us leaving Sodom. We dipped and the walk down the staircase was long and hard. The two other ladies came and off from the party we went.

I know you’re wondering why the title has anything to do with bandits and here’s the reason. I went to work on Sunday and the first call I got was from one of the ladies, telling me were being sought after two phones got lost. I agree, I’m thug life till I die but there was no way I needed any of those phones. I can’t even use mine the whole day. The sad bit was that I was not even consulted as to which phone my accomplices and I allegedly took.

Carlitos came through with video evidence from after we had left and it showed who the real bandits were. The host however, was insistent that we went to dry clean his house despite the fact that my pillow if fluffier than his mattress. I have a lot of tissue in my house; bum tissue, facial tissue, hand tissue, body tissue: he only had one. I was absolutely unamused that such allegations were being thrown at three ladies and I. How dare he call me a thief! I have stolen hearts and moments but not a yellow phone. Not me!

I however, did feel for one ninja who brought wine so that he could bed one of the ladies but ended up losing a phone and having blue balls. The lady that lost her phone on the other hand was not going to let that moment dampen her mood. She climbed onto that carpet of a mattress, took off her fishnet stockings and sweat-filled panties.

She spent the night there and woke up to the shocking news that not only was her phone lost but her dignity as well. I did my best to return a bit of her dignity but I think she’ll have to live without the rest and get herself a new one.

The host was a skunk in the afternoon and reeked of dirty jocks dipped in ammonia. I made a vow never to attend any party this guy throws. I also hold a personal grudge against the two lasses that made me miss a few hours of sleep just to be called a thief. Next time you get invited to a house warming and you can still kill one of your dead relatives, do it. Unless that party is organized by someone with a decent portfolio, avoid it.

You can still call me for your parties though.