Facebook is fun!

Now ladies and gentlemen, don’t get your knickers in a bunch because I mentioned this tool of the antichrist. It’s actually good for me because I get to keep in touch with my family more often than not. Even if by ‘keeping in touch’ my brother means sending me links to funny youtube videos. He’ll get it someday.

So I decided to jazz things up and copy Kaza, who uses any picture but hers as a profile picture. She uses her sisters’ pictures. Now my sisters be hot. As in H.A.T.T! I don’t want to be seen with them because I’ll be the one men are approaching to introduce them instead of the men hitting on me. Ever since I started using pictures that do not belong to me, I have been getting friend requests galore! These people don’t stop at just asking to be your friend. No sirree! They want an edge over all the other sleazy perv men who want to befriend hot girls. So they send messages with their friend requests. And I kid you not, this is what I get:

Hullo Carlo, what’s up babe you are realy tight i like the you control your eyes they are just too……….!! From Skin Nabb’s.

What kind of a name is Skin? Did his mother actually name him or did he decide that his facebook name should be something catchy like say, Ear. No, that’s too floppy. How about Foot. Nah, wait, I have it: SKIN! How totally rocking is that?! And well, his surname is Nabb’s. Yes, with an apostrophe.

There’s more:

Hay, very precious 2meet u here.More comn ahead. Stay cool.

Well at least this one has a proper name. Someone might know him so I won’t openly shame him here. But bambi no, I will not become your friend simply because you do not know English. That’s reason enough right?

Ooooooooh, wat acreature Carlo u r some thing cnt tell bt thanks to ua mama who gave those great eyez.Anyway do u like frnds beatiful?TAke care KICo.

This one was actually HILARIOUS! I laughed so hard I nearly fell off my chair. Then I showed it to some friends and we laughed some more and this time I actually fell. Let me think, do I like friends? Well, I much prefer Seinfeld but Friends was good. Actually, my favourite was Joey. Remember his, ‘how u doin’?’ I wish I could meet a man that will make me take my clothes off just by that one phrase the way Joey did with women. Yes, come to think of it, Seinfeld does not hold a candle to friends. I’ve changed my mind, I LOVE Friends. Not just like.

I hope my sisters are reading this. I would like to thank you both for the fun I’ve been having on facebook of late. These are only three, there are those that actually wrote to me more than once and begged me to be friends, random men sent me friend requests that I got tired of ignoring, but I just had to share what these two ladies have done to me. It’s good to laugh at your own silliness.

You’re my glory, the lifter up of mine head.

Psalm 3

¹Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me.

²Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah.

³But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.

⁴I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah.

⁵I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me.

⁶I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about.

⁷Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly.

⁸Salvation belongeth unto the LORD: thy blessing is upon thy people. Selah.
There’s a man I know who says to me, ‘nanti oli mulaalo‘ and expects me to be insulted. It’s like telling me I’m a woman. How should I be insulted because I’m a woman? So I tell him he’s a mwiru. It’s negative for us balaalo and my being a mulaalo is negative for him as a Muganda. We both don’t get the other’s insult so we’re cool like that. I am as proud as a peacock when it comes to my heritage. Here’s why.

An old man was speaking about how far we Bahima have fallen from grace. He was teaching us about our culture and the things that we were too proud to do but that we do nowadays. He said it was totally unheard of for example to muzzle the mouth of another’s cow when it comes to drink at your well. Wells and grass were communal and no one would refuse another’s cows from grazing or drinking water because it was their property. Now there are land laws that have caused Bahima to act unnatural.

Bahima were known for being faithful and just. When one was caught stealing, one was an outcast. He was treated like a leper because it was almost an abomination to take that which did not belong to you. In fact, I heard a story once (I’ve diverted from Mr. Wise Old Man) about a man in the army during the war who stole a chicken and was brought to his commander after being caught. The commander told the other soldiers to leave and he grabbed the boy by his ears and spoke in Runyankole, ‘boy have you ever heard of our people stealing? If you wanted to take something could you not have stolen gold or something worth this shame? A chicken!!!!’ Apparently the man beat the young souldier almost to death because of the shame he had brought his parents! So this old man was saying that nowadays they dress the Bahima’s shame in fancy words like embezzlement. He said that it is a wonder God does not come down and pour brimstone and fire on our heads for the shame we have caused our nation!

It was also known that when a Muhima judge sat to judge a case, every other tribe knew that it would be a fair judgment. Apparently truth and fairness are so inherent in our tribe that they were not separate from a man. But nowadays Bahima stand in court and lie through their teeth about their shame of stealing. The old man was so disgusted he kept repeating how we are not worthy to be called people anymore because we have done things that were totally repulsive in his days.

Oh how we need to pray for our people! We need to get back to the basics of our heritage. We need the Lord to lift our heads again. How can a nation (by nation I mean tribe) stand tall and lift their heads when they have touched the unclean thing? I remember stories in the Bible of people that God smote because they took a Babylonian cup when He explicitly told them not to take anything from a nation they have defeated. We cannot call ourselves true Bahima when we are an unjust, corrupt people that refuses another’s cow from drinking in our well! That man touched a nerve in me because I did not know what it meant to be from my tribe.

The other day my boyfriend and I were talking about what goes wrong with children that they break their parents’ hearts. He told me that sometimes, they need to know their culture to know what is right from wrong. I thought all they needed was the fear of God in them. Boy was he right! When you grow up knowing that theft is an abomination, there is no way you will take Mommy’s change lying on her table. It is drummed into a child and they grow up in that way. And of course, a child knows that when they steal they’ll go to hell unless they repent. Oh we need to repent for our nation! Let our nation hold their heads up high, without shame. Someone said that corruption is so embedded in our culture as Ugandans that there needs to be 3 generations wiped out before the habit is broken. Is it so bad? How we need to repent for our nation! For our children growing up in this generation of ‘embezzlement’ as opposed to stealing that will take you to hell.

Overenthusiastic much?

I like my work environment. We do not have much work to do and a usual day in the office involves everyone with headphones bobbing their head to some music or giggling at Barney Stinson’s newest antics in How I Met Your Mother. My workmates are cool, I don’t know much about what they do after work but I enjoy their non-company at work. We work amicably like that.

Then we got an accountant. Ever since Mr. Accountant stepped into our office, we’ve all wondered out loud if he ever had any friends before he came to work with us. See, the only time I talk to our IT guy is to tell him my google chrome has refused to download. Or if I can install the new Windows Media player 11 without having a validated MS Operating system. Seriously, that’s all we talk about. Mr. Accountant on the other hand, greets you and you just want to choke him. “Good morning. How is everything? Is it going good? How was last night? Did you sleep well? Did you drive safely to work? . . . ” We have all learnt to say hi and run out of his office before he can say another word.

But no, we cannot escape him that easily, we have phones. You know, those phones where you can call another office like an intercom line? Yeah. See, we decided to put him in the back of the building with his own office to calculate our various expenses and whatnot in peace. Maths needs some concentration right? Apparently not. Every second minute, the phone rings and it’s something like, ‘what are we having for lunch?’ Or ‘did you enjoy your lunch? Mine was very good. This woman cooks good food.’ SERIOUSLY!!!!!! You called to tell me that? I just lost a client here with you engaging the phone! So I found a genius plan to stop his interruptions of my Chuck marathons, I switched off the ringer. Genius huh? I know. Anyway, he’d call and call and call and then walk to our office and ask us what is wrong with the phone. We all told him that there was something wrong with it and if he needs to communicate he can just IM. Bad idea!

Here is an actual IM he just sent me a few minutes ago: did you get my email i sent you yesterday about “is it strange to sit at the last row of the seat at church” “$20 too big for church yet very small for shoping” I kid you not! That’s the other thing, he sends forwards galore. I’m about to spam him from my work address book because I am tired of his emails that have nothing whatsoever to do with work. And then he wants to discuss the forwards!!!!!!!

Now I know I complain a lot in this blog but hey, this is my space and it’s where I vent. I have very happy and fulfilling days the rest of the time I don’t blog. Blame it on the moon and it’s changes or something. But will someone please help me shoot this guy? My workmate who enjoys bopping her head to Single Ladies by Beyonce while she works yesterday blew a fuse and gave him a talking to. We were all silently rooting for her. She just told him that she does not care for his IMs and unless it is not work related he does not have to talk to her because she will not talk back. And I left out the part where he calls me ‘dear’ and says he likes me and why won’t I reply to his IMs. Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhh. Hm, how to get a colleague fired? I’m googling that right now. Maybe I should file for sexual harassment.

Because I have nothing to write

I found something totally funny and decided to blog it.

An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core™ or Dri-Weave™ absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I’d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from “the curse”? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my “time of the month” is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call “an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.” Isn’t the human body amazing?

As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers’ monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend’s testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey’s Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy! The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: “Have a Happy Period.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness—actual smiling, laughing happiness—is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything “happy” about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man. If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like “Put Down the Hammer” or “Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong”? Or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that’s a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,

Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX

Because I have nothing to write

I found something totally funny and decided to blog it.

An Open Letter to James Thatcher, Brand Manager, Proctor and Gamble.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,

I have been a loyal user of your Always maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core™ or Dri-Weave™ absorbency, I’d probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I’d certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can’t tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there’s a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from “the curse”? I’m guessing you haven’t. Well, my “time of the month” is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I’ll be transformed into what my husband likes to call “an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.” Isn’t the human body amazing?

As brand manager in the feminine-hygiene division, you’ve no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers’ monthly visits from Aunt Flo. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it’s a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend’s testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey’s Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy! The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in capri pants. Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: “Have a Happy Period.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness—actual smiling, laughing happiness—is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you’re some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything “happy” about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlúa and lock yourself in your house just so you don’t march down to the local Walgreens armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory. For the love of God, pull your head out, man. If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn’t it make more sense to say something that’s actually pertinent, like “Put Down the Hammer” or “Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong”? Or are you just picking on us?

Sir, please inform your accounting department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that’s a promise I will keep. Always.

Best,

Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX

My Groupie Ways

Last night I was rummaging through the drawers in my room frantically looking for . . . I forget what, when I stumbled upon my autograph book. Yes, I had a book for autographs that I carried in my purse everywhere just in case I chanced upon a celebrity. See, my groupie ways started long ago. It brought back memories of me walking up to some guys like Bebe Cool and asking for an autograph only for him to tell me it’s not ‘rasta’ but because I smiled and batted my eyelashes for him, he signed one for me anyway. Here is my celebrity list. Some I don’t know to whom they belong since their signatures are barely legible, and well the rest are quite obvious.

This one is by our very own Ivan of The Edge. Yes, he is a celebrity. Don’t ask me how, I also don’t know but he is one if I declare him one!

Ah. And then there’s Maurice Kirya. I remember walking up to him at Garden City and he must have been with his girlfriend but I told him I was a big fan anyway and totally ignored her. Shoo, who does she think she is to go dating hot men who can play guitar and not expect other women to swoon over them!

Oh yeah, Gatimo. He did one song that I know of but hey, it was playing on radio so in my books that makes him celebrity status.

Peter Miles and Menshun are like peas in a pod. I reckon I met them together still. I’m actually not sure where I met these two but I remember wondering who they were even when a friend of mine was pushing me to get their autographs. She was more conversant with the local celeb scene and she knew my autograph collection mission.

Ragga Dee was hanging with Bebe Cool when I met him. I can’t seem to find Bebe Cool’s autograph however. I musta gotten mad at him for saying autographs are not cool enough for him so I tore it out of the book. Ah well.

Don’t ask me why I have Saggy’s autograph. I can’t even imagine how I managed to walk up to him and ask him for one. He IS a celebrity for sure but not one I would like to associate with. My book does not discriminate however.

These two, I’m not sure where I got them. I am almost certain the bottom one was from that guy that used to be Dr. Bbosa on That’s Life Mwattu. Yeah, in fact I think it is him. I walked up to him in the lobby of La Bonita Theatre when I had gone to watch ballet by the Nagginda. I actually wanted her to sign an autograph for me but she had waay too much security around her I chickened out.

So, I have sold myself that I’m a bit of a groupie. I was young and enthusiastic. What?!

Microwave ovens

Melanie of Sanyu Breakfast said something that made me go eeeeeeeiiiiiiiii! She said, ‘not all microwaves can cook rice. Some just do what microwaves do, warm food. But others like Defy can actually cook rice.’ And all I can say to that is aha.

When you didn’t help . . . I used experience.

HOW TO PICK UP GUYS

This might sound preposterous to some of you but women are not completely useless in choosing mates. Whether it be for a lifetime partner, or a one night stand, we are in the day and age where the ladies are taking matters into their own hands and not waiting for a knight in shining armour to come and sweep the damsel in distress off her feet. However, we are still traditional and think it is tacky to outright ask a guy out. So here are a few tricks we have up our sleeves when we meet a likely candidate.

Make yourself available. The trick here is to let him pick you up. You might even want to act like you’re not really that interested and have more important things to do but not shut him out completely. Say you’re at Steak Out and your friends introduce you to this good looking hunk of a man. You’re single and ready to mingle but don’t want to seem desperate. So you shake his hand and turn back to your friends. If he is interested, he will want to have conversation. If however, you lose his interest after a few minutes, grab it back by trying to squeeze past him to order at the bar. Look hassled because of the press and the effort it takes to get the bartender to pay you any attention. And then innocently ask him to help you by handing him your bill and telling him what you’re drinking. I don’t have to tell you that saying thank you will lead to more conversation now do I?

Leave loose ends untied. I’m sure most women have used the jacket trick. You don’t know the jacket trick? Essentially, it involves you meeting Mr. Handsome at night. In the cool of the evening, you’re wearing your day clothes. It gets chilly and Mr. Handsome has a jacket. It could be his jacket of his suit that he wore that day, a denim jacket he happens to have on, or he’s a biker and has a leather jacket for the wind on his ride home. Either way, get goose bumps and act out the cold damsel in distress. He will offer you his jacket for the meantime. At the end of the evening, if you’ve really had a good time, you can decide to go home with said jacket and promise to return it as soon as you have it dry cleaned, it’s the least you can do. This of course leads to an exchange of numbers so that you can meet one more time to return the jacket. If the guy insists you keep the jacket, ladies know that this is his way of saying he does not want your number and does not want to meet again so do not bother and return the jacket there and then.

Business cards. Working ladies know that a business card is not just a marketing strategy for their company, but a way to get calls from interested male parties too. So you meet a good looking man in a suit at a corporate function and you talk and end up having a good time. When it’s time to leave and he doesn’t ask for your number, ask for his business card. All in the name of business dealings of course but that means he will be obliged to ask for yours. You can take it from there.

Ask for help. We might be in the 21st century but most of us still hold on to the old ways and values. You know, the ways of our forefathers (or foremothers) Cinderella, Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty. They were princesses that waited to be rescued by Prince Charming. So women might as well make today’s man a Prince Charming in his own way. You can do something as simple as ask him to fix your laptop for you because you can’t understand how all the technology works, or something as physically hard as changing your car tyre. This mostly works for someone you are in constant contact with like a colleague at work whom you find attractive, or a friend of a friend that you always hang around and he doesn’t seem to notice you. After his help you can become extremely grateful and insist on making it up to him by taking him to coffee, lunch or something like cooking him a meal at your place. The rest I’m sure will take care of itself.

Interrupt his lunch or dinner. In places like Shell Bugolobi, sometimes Café Pap, Nandos, even Steers, there are times of the day when the clientele has swarmed there to eat. You know, lunch and supper time. Because of the vast number of people, sometimes tables are too few and strangers have to share tables in order to have a meal. This is ideal for you to go up to a lonely handsome stranger and say to him, ‘is this seat taken?’ Hey, men use it all the time so why can’t we? And it has proven to work in the past since men are sometimes flustered by being approached by a beautiful woman and will be all smiles and welcoming. You can take it from there ladies. Don’t bore him now or chew loudly and you will not fail to find an entry point.

There’s safety in numbers. A friend of mine told me that he once got hit on by a bunch of girls ambushing him. It worked too because the one girl that was interested got to talk to him and still not seem obvious because her friends were there, and he in turn got to correspond to the girl he was interested in. So it was a win-win for both of them. Hence numbers work ladies.

At the end of the day ladies, remember that the important thing is to always let a man believe he’s picking you up instead of being too obvious. It is still tacky in this day and age to be overly eager about a man!

Rolling with celebrities

I can safely say that I am now on first name basis with Mel and James. Yes. They are my friends. Ok, maybe that’s too presumptuous but we know each other. I am officially a groupie. You know, a non-celebrity who hangs out with celebrities? Except I don’t hang out with them, more like I see them in the places I go to. Hence groupie. Yay me!

While on this note, Nocturnal totally rock! Do you know Nocturnal? It’s this really amazing blues/jazz band. James isn’t much of a crooner per se but the band is AWESOME!!! You know, he doesn’t sound like John Legend or Robin Thicke. But he makes it work. My offer to be in a polygamous marriage with Edmund still stands! Ok, maybe that’s too much being married to him. I’ll probably get tired of hearing his awesome guitar skills so I’ll space them out to wherever and whenever he’s playing.

Funny thing happened. Two funny things actually. Edmund came up to us and we swooned over him and asked him to marry us and swore we were groupies following him around while this girl seated next to us kept saying, ‘Oh my!’ and ‘Banange!’. She was staring at us in horror like she couldn’t believe these over excited girls. My friend whom I had gone with says, ‘He he he, I don’t think she knows how to take us.’ True. We’re all bark and no bite. We just feel like it shows moral support to our local artists to have actual fans who love them and show it. Instead of doing the Ugandan thing and pretending we’re not fazed. So James makes a comment about how local artists get money put in their pockets when they’re performing on stage but he’s never had that happen to him. Cue my two crazy friends. As soon as he stepped on stage to croon his way into our hearts, my friends rushed up and pulled notes OUT OF THEIR BRAS!!! and stuck them in his pockets. He was visibly flustered. Yeah, we do show moral support for roco artis. Especially really good bands like Nocturnal. You missed if you weren’t there.

Does anyone know where Jimmy Jones 75 hangs out? Holla.

Sodomy Reports

The Red Pepper has been running stories almost daily for the past week about Pr. Robert Kayanja sodomising boys. Someone once asked me a question, ‘Do you believe he did it or they are truly trying to tarnish his name?’ This got me thinking.

One, I believe he is innocent. Maybe it is the optimist in me, or that I cannot come to terms with the fact that a man of God would rape anyone. If he wanted to be homosexual, surely he could get someone to sleep with willingly but not a multitude of boys he rapes. Anyway, which brings me to the second part.

Two, Prs. Male and Ssempa genuinely believe the boys. I believe they genuinely believe the boys are telling the truth and are concerned about their wellbeing. Are they going about it the right way? I don’t think so. But that’s another story for another time.

Three, who are these boys? Why are they all coming up against this pastor? One of them lied about being a total orphan and then his mother surfaced. So he could be lying. Or they really are telling the truth and want the story to be heard so that the pastor is exposed for the dirty, dirty man he is. And I’m also naive and gullible for believing his innocent.

Whatever the case might be, the stories in the Red Pepper are really entertaining. How do you fill a whole page with a story based on loosely mismatched facts that don’t add up? You put words like ‘aka’, ‘alias’ and make synonyms like ‘erupted like Mt. Ngorongoro’. It’s fun to read honestly.

Shalom.