When Ladies Were Ladies...

Ladies have progressively shown no headway to finding lasting companions because the pool of marriageable men is shrinking by the day. This draws from the fact that millennials belong to the female species and can barely be called ladies. Ladies were called angels back then when there was no painstaking attention to appearance.

Ladies were coveted when there was no need to shave their underarms and rub them with cotton balls soaked in rubbing alcohol. We loved them before the advent of thongs and G-strings, when bikers went knee-high.

Women were marriageable when parents planned marriages, based on character match and hard work. Before concluding that I’m still living in the renaissance period, understand that ladies existed before the discovery of weaves and wigs, a period of which water pots could effortlessly balance on their heads.

Love was cherished when ladies were open to reproach and correction, not in this generation when they know so much about compound nouns that just before you complete the word mother, they’d have uttered ‘fucker’.

Women were beautiful butterflies when milking jelly was the only cosmetic product, not in this age and time when their dressing table is more of a cosmetic shop. They thrived on natural fruits like guavas and ripe bananas, where the facial glitter was all natural. Men back then loved their rounded nature, not today when slimming pills sell more than antibiotics just to ensure that they have no waist.

Ladies were sacred beings when seduction was purely a masculine vibe, not today when they ask for your number and pay random visits to your one-roomed apartment. Back then they paid allegiance to one man, not today when they compile a list and end up using lemon fruits to shrink the vaginal walls. Science has it that seeing multiple men will expand the muscular walls. Rather than rendering scarce the supply of lemons and other vaginal oils, reduce the number of men and allow the muscles to contract naturally or live with the hollow nature and see no man in your life.

Women were compared to the Biblical Abigail before the discovery of Guarana, when Fanta orange was the only known feminine drink. Stoney was left to men, not these days when snap has turned things around. With a snap of your finger, you can now thrive in the company of any female companion. Surprisingly, ladies are now taking to the higher table, competing and even outdoing men in Scotch, Irish and single-malt whiskeys. They smoke like chimneys and thrive on shisha more than they do on ugali, leaving the question as to what kids they will bring forth.

 

Women were sanctified during those days of plastic shoes, when high heels and wedges were a history. Leggings were yet to be known, not forgetting that cleavage did not even exist in the dictionary. Tracing it to history, however, their character baffled God in Eden. Right from Eve to Lot’s wife, they do not pause of such a good history. Unless things change in the near future, single motherhood will be the only parenting style in days to come.

The jubilee mosquito

Mosquitoes seem to have borrowed greatly from the Jubilee administration, a government that seems to have a very strong trickle-down effect. Under the protection of my net, I have always felt safe for years, sleeping like a baby, forgetting my worries and dreaming like an entrepreneur.

Tonight I wake up from the protective bubble to visit the cloak room but the opportunistic mosquito sneaks through the exit point, taking a comfortable position similar to the Devolution docket. Done with the call, I get back to bed, hoping to drift into REM sleep within the shortest time. Then comes the buzzing sound, high-pitched and thin like the Majority Leader’s.

Similar in character with the opposition leader who cannot stand corruption, I cannot contain the sound of a mosquito.  I decide to act from my net but because of the confinement and limited visual ability, I never succeed. What else could be more similar than Keter’s efforts!

Getting out of bed, it takes less than a minute to silence the notorious insect. Just before contemplating sleep, however, a bigger one emerges. A probable Eurobond? It’s not so hard to notice, just like the corruption traces that we have always traced.

Three hours in bed, three mosquitoes lay dead on the ground. Three years in power, I bet the scandals are more than three… Since they have proved too much of a menace, I decide to silence the last insect before drifting to sleep. Surprisingly, it clings to my arm even after dying. I start laughing, with Waiguru in mind. But unlike her, this helpless insect has no protective bubble.

My net seems more of a cosmetic feature now, not so different from Waqo’s ‘public relations’ docket. What the hell will I do with these mosquitoes? Repellants have not worked either. Should I change my sleeping schedule?

I have tried sealing all the entry points but each time I think of victory, they sneak in like in 2007 and 2013. What about my last bullet? Shhhh! That’s not for disclosure. But mosquitoes can be a real menace; that I know. Someone help me ask the Opposition leader whether there is a better net or repellant.

Dating an exceptionally pretty lady? Woe unto you!

I have penned before that all ladies are difficult to tame (a position I don’t intend to modify in the near future), but exceptionally pretty women are a special challenge. While lightheartedly admitting to the temporary hypothesis that all ladies are beautiful in their own way, this post is about the kind of women that society considers exceptionally attractive.

I’m referring to the pageant chicks in their prime (considering the fact that beauty is short-lived), pursued and courted by multi-millionaires and property tycoons, feared by ordinary nerds and social jerks.

On the other end are easily replaceable cogs in an economic behemoth, commanding a low 5-digit net worth and no status to speak of. Still in the initial blush of youth, marred by brash and unrealistic cocky ambitions of what they can achieve, impervious to feedback and advice, this is the characteristic mismatch that comes to mind when I talk of dating a lady way out of your league.

An entire panoply of game behavior and vibe goes into meeting and seducing such ladies, a reason why most of them die single or end up single mothers. But why do men dread these good-looking ladies?

Fear- and sometimes experience- cultivates an exquisite sense of one’s sexual rank, eliciting an avoidance mentality that preempts rejection by sultry ladies thought to be out of one’s league. However, a few warriors of the whiskered wound have beaten out of their league and lived to demystify the entire story. It is all summed up by the feeling that they will possibly be turned down.

However, there is a rare breed of guys, men with vibe and delusional confidence, who will often bang the kind of women considered by the general public to be out of their league. If they are not sugar daddies, then I’m sorry they fall victim to quote:

‘Youth is wasted on young’ . The sweet idiocy of romanticism. It makes a fool out of everyone involved, but no man is complete without having been wrung through it.

Dating far above your social strata will furnish you with a glimpse of the life that exists at a completely different stratum of society. You will be surprised at her infinite admittance to favors and accouterments of her elevated station. Socializing with people who own superfluous yachts, overseas luxury properties, infrequently used personal jets, you will have nothing to offer in these types of trades. While she takes first-class flights, you struggle for a seat next to the driver in a luxury bus. It turns out to be a clandestine nature of a relationship though you may not accept it.

Sometimes you get stupidly cocky and naively in love as to expect that she will ditch her 9-digit-worth-benefactor for you just because you profess love and sweat in bed, on the couch or on whatever surface that the two of you prefer.

Regardless of the fact that you will possibly snatch a few fleeting memories with the hottie, the attempt to turn those sublime moments into a somewhat permanent and self-replenishing feature in a relationship creates conflict and drama, which is exhilarating at first but must turn perplexing, bitter, harrowing and finally exhausting.

True love has a constant undercurrent of mild euphoria as well as a sense of peace in one another’s presence. Nor does it diminish with time. This definition alone tells you that true love is not common and in my view does not exist unless in an afterlife.  For those who believe it exists, however, you probably agree that she will at an instance turn you into a distant memory the moment a wealthier father of five walks her way.

Lucre. Shekels. Thirty pieces of silver for her mortal soul! A lady that will throw away true love in exchange for nothing more than mere money is a filthy stinking God-damned whore who will just bid her time before she slips a knife through your throat the moment you show signs of some significant wealth

Despise my counsel for now but when it is time for angel advice, call me for help with your first pitch. If you must spend with these attention seekers, take advantage of the most wild and sex-fueled relationship of your life but be true to yourself and others by diving into romance fully conscious that it cannot possibly end well like in the movies.

It is alright if our first instincts fail us but don’t cling to a sinking buoy. We are trolled all the time, skepticism should be our default mode. And in that mode, sometimes they fool us by our own credulity, while at times we fool ourselves through hyper vigilance. It happens to the best of us. What then is the way out? I’m starting to see little, if any point, in sleeping with a woman I couldn’t see myself committing to. And since I swore not to commit, stay off women entirely.

After seeing her nakedness quite frequently as to satisfy your appetite at least temporarily, only then will you begin to wonder whether there is a clinical diagnosis for the tendencies that she is exhibiting. If you have a trace of psychology in your head, it won’t be hard to realize that she suffers a serious narcissistic personality disorder, meeting all the five criteria as described in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (5^th edition).

It may not necessarily imply that you are less attractive or not-so-well-groomed but there are awkward moments when men will give her too much attention and the moment they look at you, the question they will be asking is why the hell she settled for a loser like you! You may carry all the pride like I do and boast of the strongest sense of self-esteem but this will not shield you from the unsightly scenes in shopping malls, clubs and restaurants.

Before the approach-less Troll and weak of thought interrupt my prose by insinuating that men’s sexual value is judged by the same looks metric as women’s sexual value, let it be pounded into their scrawny  cognitive patterns that a man’s relationship worthiness is judged by many measures, not least of which is his social value and seductive ability. When I talk of men shooting out of their league, therefore, don’t just picture an ugly man flirting with a naturally-born and socially acceptable blonde (though it could mean so). It could also mean a man who compares favorably well in the looks department but is socially awkward or rather cannot clearly bring out the difference between ‘their and there’.

Beautiful ladies are born with this insatiable need for unwarranted compliments. Whatever she wears and no matter how she wears it, a high-end lady expects a compliment. Whether you mean it or not (perhaps another reason why I’m not dating any time soon since I tend to notice good cars at the expense of pretty ladies no matter how they spin their butts), you will be required to make compliments a refrain. Deny her the compliment for a second and another man will gladly offer it with the hope that it will lead him to her pants, only to find that the color of the waters does not justify the quality of the pool.

With pretty ladies, you have to appeal to their vulnerabilities. At the very least, find something that impresses her. She will, all her life, be approached by men who have more cash, better cars, higher academic qualifications, better dress codes, a more enhanced vibe and perhaps a bigger c*ck. Unless you figure out what impresses her and provide exactly that, she will only pass time by your bed-side waiting for the right person. If you are blessed with a wry, playful and artistic prose that is delightful to read, use it to impress her through texts.  If you are forced to laugh at dry humor just to ensure that she notices it, just contend with the swanky task of dating a pretty lady.

Lastly, trust is the biggest nightmare you will have to sleep with each night. She will be approached by men of all classes and vibes since they probably have the same eye as you do. Most of these will flirt in your presence and there are high chances that she flirts back since most of these ladies tend to be smart physically and nothing more.

Be prepared for a probable of diagnosis with lifestyle illnesses such as high blood pressure and diabetes. If you can’t opt for the condom, I need not spell your doom since most of the big men she sleeps with will only pay for a peeled mango. They never know the taste of an orange together with its skin! I deliberately excluded a heart attack considering your social class. With the routine managu and Githeri, I cannot contemplate the source of bad cholesterol to throw any of the cardiovascular illnesses your way.

International phone calls interspersed with weekend-long vacations in hotel rooms across the coveted coastal region will not be so rare as long as you still call her your chic. But in the end, losing the pathway to a high-grade pussy is a blow to a man’s pleasure center, one that will leave you miserable irrespective of the memories. She risks discovery and the concomitant loss of her feminine prestige and treats from her financial suitors. Because her nature does not allow for shared love between disparate men who offer the kind of love that would not equal to the wildest dreams of the average representative of her sex, all you will be left to enjoy are a few fleeting memories built over the short time.

At the end of the day, however, you have the advantage of an outstanding pussy, not necessarily in terms of quality but rather getting for free what other men have to pay heavily for.  Trading up, as you gain social value and get older, you will be treated to hotter and younger chicks who start to be more accessible as you’re more mature, sly, charming and laden with shiny assets.

When it comes to marriage, you then discover that these same young hotties are dating grandfathers. If it can’t trickle down to the less attractive lady, then you shell the entire marriage ambition and finally join my therapy class.

The Simplest and Most Discrete way of committing suicide

Strange days don’t you think? The faint of heart do not need poison, guns, ropes or even suffocation to commit suicide. Dating makes it ABC-easy for you, a simple but possibly ugly and depressing word. You will perhaps get the true picture of what I’m saying the moment you sit alone on your king-size or mini bed reflecting upon the unsightly moments when you had to put on a show of some sort in order to appear presentable.

If male, you probably initiated talks, dressed, talked and acted in every manner that would portray you business-like or at least ‘focused’ depending on the situation and partner. For women on the other hand, you might have dressed up so elegantly, made your hair in the most trendy way besides faking your age and weight.

Looking back, however, everything seems austere, drawing you to social stigma and the idea that you might have fallen victim to a pathological relationship pattern. While a few people can attest to the bliss associated with dating, a lot more can confirm that it has ruined their future, invalidated their dreams and emptied their lives.

Quick enough if you have to lie 
It is acceptable to lie at some point in life because of our human predisposition but the situation is totally different in the dating world. Choosing to date I’d say is the first dishonest move towards the self. Oftentimes, the dilemma as to whether it is right to date or not is one of the most pervasive and complicated decisions that you will have to grapple with. Deciding to date then drags you to your grave faster than cyanide if it has to involve a lie.

I’ve already talked about fudging your virtues to be the ideal person that your prospective partner has forever dreamt of. How many of us will conceal our past relational wreckage for fear of appearing ‘undatable’? That aside, I have met men and women alike trying to figure out their prospective partners’ mannerisms and interests so they could embrace his or her interests to some extent. When the infatuation craze dies down, however, an irreconcilable difference is conceived, one between the persona you depicted initially and the person that you truly are. You can obviously contemplate the outcome…

Dating has presented itself as a mean occurrence which provides a limited and mostly distorted picture of what someone really is. Knowing someone from an honest point of view takes a casual approach with little to no affection and not necessarily the faking that goes into getting a woman’s pants or a man’s masculinity as is routine in dating.

Better enough if you are sex-starved 
Coitus has over time emerged as one of the very few sanctified human acts but a few people have manipulated its availability and importance to suit their selfish interests. My point is, dating will take you to the grave faster than a thunder-strike will if you are sexually starved. Every brand on the buffet table will appeal to your appetite if you walk into a restaurant hungry.

Unfortunately, very few of us can resist exposure to the human buffet especially after starvation that possibly sprouts from a break-up, immaturity, lack of opportunity and self-imposed celibacy.  How many times have you made regrettable decisions just because you were too desperate to date? If you cannot watch the amount of time and sexual contact that you have with a new date for instance, it is a clear indication that you were starved in some way. Continue settling for the junk partners just because you are famished but when the emotional death finally knocks, they will not find you hanging on a rope but rather spending time in a psychiatric center.

Too harsh if you play by the rules 
The rules that come along with the dating game simply suck! Who said you cannot enjoy coitus on the first date? The biggest sex organ is your brain. When the recipe is all set, your meal will be ready for consumption whether it is the first or 10th date. As long as you feel it is right to have sex on the first date, rules are there to be broken. After all, it improves circulation and is a very good exercise that helps you deal with a number of lifestyle illnesses.

Who said that men should forever pay the bills and carry your handbag? Letting him pay all your bills right from the first date is not so far from prostitution in its cognitive origins. The only difference is the number of clients that you are serving this time round. If he feels gentle enough to pay once and twice, don’t be tempted to make it a routine. After all, money and power go hand in hand.  He will surely pay but in return buy a sense of control over you. Within no time, you become nothing less than his trusted servant and sex object. Be open wise enough to split the bills or pay in turns.

If you believe that being complete must always involve dating, then something is amiss somewhere. Being single has its benefits. Gone are the days when single guys were regarded as maladjusted, immature and selfish. These are some of the harmful myths that we need to debunk lest we fall victim to the unconscious suicidal ideation. Being single, whether it is a lifetime choice or a temporary state, emerges as a chance to build lasting friendships and devote your time and effort towards activities that you are passionate about. Singlehood gives one an opportunity to build a sense of self-identity and self-worth that is not in any way attached to a romantic partner’s approval and feedback.

Given the value of socialization to human beings, it is rational that we work so hard to secure lasting intimate relationships but when the fear of being single controls our romantic decisions, it unconsciously leads to poor judgment and relationships that are not meant to last. In extreme circumstances, we fall victim to relationships that leave us depressed and vulnerable to abuse.

What then is the link between dating and suicide? Psychosomatic illnesses are strongly linked to stress, which in most circumstances arises from our relationships. A rope may kill you faster but it is time you realized that dating does not kill you when you finally have a date with your coffin. The wrong decisions that we make each day kill us instantly, either economically, emotionally or socially. It is just a matter of time before the cover is blown up and the entire world will realize that you committed suicide the moment you started dating.

NYERI: A CLASSICAL EXAMPLE OF GENERATION-Y LADIES

Vague and idealized as my writings may seem (at least to the group expressing open dissent); they have at present been invested with the greatest significance, now that two psychos from Nyeri have already confirmed my assertions. My argument is that the dichotomy between marriage and happiness, which is substantially taken for granted in the most recent interpretations of gender-based violence, does not reflect the realities in Nyeri and Kenya at large.

The danger of emphasizing this supposed marital bliss is that it creates the illusion that marriage is necessary while it isn’t.  The current assertion that a woman makes a man complete is thus eminently misleading and derives more from wishful thinking or ideological bias than from a careful analysis of the moral degradation that is eating into the modern woman.

Men are human and therefore prone to inadequacies, which our women are fully aware of even before the diamond ring slips down their finger. Talking of diamond rings, I must mention it once and for all that you have driven young men far from the youthful ambitions of amassing wealth and power, by expecting a piece of jewellery that is supposedly a sign of love. Diamonds may not be as rare as some people want you to believe. Instead, their supply has been deliberately manipulated to suit specific pockets that are as well in a mission to please a woman.

It goes beyond sanity for a lady to make human meat chops from the very sexual tool that could not be provided in their paternal household. Domestic and sexual violence has been framed principally with respect to violence against women, where just like in rape instances, men are meant to be perpetrators and women the victims. While sexual violence against women has become a prominent issue in humanitarian, educational, political and legal spheres, sexualised violence against men remains surrounded by a wall of silence.

It is useful to remind ourselves that feminist heroes and theorists have provided wide-ranging, and at times contradictory, definitions of the concept of gender-based violence. Originally a philosophical notion, the idea of gender-based violence was subsequently used and abused in a patriarchal society to protect the woman, who had supposedly grown weak and insignificant, both socially and economically.

For this reason, there is no accepted genealogy of the concept of sexual violence which would provide an analytically useful framework for the study of the institution called family. As is the case with notions which become widely practised and analytically fashionable, it is difficult to know whether we’ll really change this idea of women being victims forever.

Truth be told, Nyeri has been a hotspot because of the hearsay that hits the mainstream media. In real sense, there are random acts of violence against men which go untold in various parts of the republic, basically because the modern woman cannot hide the beast that generation-Y ladies are raised to be.

Typical of the discourse surrounding domestic violence is the use of the phrase in a manner to suggest violence against women only. There is an alarming number of men and boys enduring physical and psychological violence in the hands of the very women that were meant to be caregivers. What a dramatic turn of events! Perhaps if science finds a way of ‘be-wombing’ men (if such a term will ever exist), then we’ll write a different story.

Notwithstanding the notion that women have been traditionally vulnerable to violence, sidelining the male victims only serves to hide the situation on the ground. Things have changed with the modern woman rebuffing the skirt and instead going for tight jeans, heeled shoes and sharp pins beneath the nostrils. Virtually everything that generation-Y ladies wear in the fashion disguise is a weapon meant to tear men either directly or indirectly.

While a better part of the African society is patriarchal, it appears shameful and desperately humiliating for a man to admit that he has been preyed upon by the wife unless in extreme circumstances as is the tradition in Nyeri.

There is a growing number of men silently battered by their wives, denied sex and food, locked out of the very houses that they built and oftentimes abused verbally. This is only a time bomb hazard which shall explode when the right time comes for men to express the aggressive personality that they are raised with.

The affected men are particularly unhappy and isolated because they prefer to talk less. These are the very men that have resorted to spend more time in the pub than at home, triggering the same cocks at home to crow, arguing that they have been denied sex and that men have expressed a worryingly deteriorating trend with regard to their reproductive capabilities.. How would you expect a man to erect to a woman who has no trace of respect?

Before you think of taking rehab centres to Nyeri, address the underlying issue of difficult women. This race is running open criticism, belittling the husband and manipulation feelings and emotions in such a way as to induce guilt. The husband’s relationship with children has been overly subverted because of the woman’s manipulation, painting male victims as perpetrators in instances where their innocence ought to go unquestioned.

Worrying even more is the manner in which security agencies are treating issues of violence against men. Today, like yesterday, our perception is that men will never be abused by women. Are these manifestations of the strength of the belief in the irrational merely an indication of the failure of men to realize that we have no rights? Masculinity is no longer a defence, especially now that women don’t even realize their true gender identity. They exhibit both feminine and masculine characteristics, consuming more food than men and still retaining the verbal powerhouses that have always given them a competitive advantage over men.

In most instances, only the wealthy men are immune to abuse because their economic means is more substantial and less prone to the vagaries of irrational women. Irrespective of this, however, the difference between the three economic classes of men is more symbolic than real, since the overlap of the marital world and that of wealth is one of the most salient features of contemporary marriages. No matter how much respect these economically-endowed men command from their women, it is a question of what they have and not necessarily respect for their manhood and status as heads of families.

Nyeri is just a sneak-view of the Satanism that is surrounding marriage on planet earth. It is just a matter of time before men declare the fairer sex evil and untameable just like I have. But to the extent of chopping the very manhood to which you opened your legs every night, THIS IS EXTREME. ALAS! A man is his penis you dickheads!

Sound advice to men, you better zip-up and open to the call of nature alone. None has ever died of sexual starvation (or I’ll remain the only disciplined here, one not vulnerable to womanhood). A mention of the call of nature has reminded me of the poetic pieces that I used to pen before I opted to change course. Laugh your butts off with this piece on cloak room tales.