I almost died Today

Hey dolls 😀

Relax, I am alive.

It is a cold day in the office. Part of my job entails doing virtual work thingies with other bored people on the interwebs. For the cavemen, by virtual I mean we don’t work in the same offices so we do our work online, m-kay? It can get awesome though because normally I do other fun stuff on the side with them. Like chatting and flirting. Creepazoids.

These are things we do to piss off our bosses because they are rich and they don’t pay us well. I am glad potential employers don’t read lesbian blogs otherwise I have just screwed up my employment life. Potential employers would rather be online watching porn and get it done away with.

We try to tolerate each other because if it was a game of options, we would rather chop off each other’s heads. Besides, life is depressing and flirting is a way of releasing orgasms and orgasms equals awesomesauce. Who sits in an office working eight hours straight anyway?

Unless you are the boss but wait, the bosses check the clock too. Because jerking at home is more fun. Forget about those taking affirmative action in life books, cray bullshit. Talking of jerking, (I am sorry, this is that blog where people don’t have morals), it rhymes with twerking, right? I was so heartbroken when I finally caught up with the meaning of this twerking lingo.
Googles twerking, Wikipedia; a dance move that involves shaking hips…my brain froze. No way! twerking has to be some kind of x-rated lesbian porn, tries a different search, same result.

I am so disappointed by everything human right now. Sigh.

Anyway, I am online in my office drinking coffee and chatting with this fellow; (this lesbian girl has an office! Surprised? Me too :D), a very rather interesting topic comes up. There is a workmate of his, I will call her T, who is his senior and he is so into her. They are kind of close and stuff like that. There is a but, he goes like, but did you know T is a lesbian?

Fuck! What the what?!

I almost choked on the coffee. Something is not right here. I know T, though not on a personal level, I have done some projects with her for close to one year and I couldn’t even notice a misplaced word o sumthing!!! JESUS! Go to your room QueerKenyanGirl! You are not a lesbian anymore! How did I miss that, aargh.

This guy doesn’t know about my sexual orientation so it was just random gossip. He wants to be more than friends with her and since he has been wondering what to do, he wanted a piece of my good wisdom. Take a chill pill dude. She would rather buy pink dildos. Such is the gay life.

So while I am happy, (so happy like peeing in my pants happy), I can’t help but bitch slap my gay dar. Gay women are very rare around my workplace life and I dare screw over the only chance the gods have given me to let my little lesbian lamp shine!

When I think about the T’ I have known all along, she is very different from the gay T that comes to my head now. She is always professional and somehow bossy. How do I handle her from now on? Gee, composure is the last word in my head. I just want to ask her for a date and do bad things to her. I don’t mind the fact that she is way up there on the organizational structure and over ten years my age.

Voices in my head: don’t mix romance with work. Fuck you. I am going to mess my life with her big time. Not.

Dialing her number right now and confessing my lesbian love to her sounds less dramatic, no? May be I should just send her my nudes and scare the daylights outta her head.

I am a hopeless romantic. Sad.


My Motivation

Hey kittens 😀

I have cat submissions to do in the next two days. I like pushing things until deadline is mauling me in my sleep (deadline doesn’t do that, terrible schooling). Last minute runs, because running was invented in Kenya. Bleh.

When I finally figure out when my uterus will carry a child, I will redefine motherhood. That kid will be trained on how to not do their homework from uterus day one. I have heard that motherhood is a natural experience. You know, like how you shit and stuff. No training is required. I read blogs in the toilet; nothing comes naturally after you spend fifteen minutes seated on a big bowl.

I am like, the only natural thing I do is natural yoghurt, which I hate but drink anyway since it is good for things under there or I don’t know, Google is not my friend.  Besides, I never liked sciences in school. I basically hated all subjects and it is a pity that I made it through and wasted my parent’s money (sorry, folks!). I remember when my biology teacher came to class with drawings of reproductive organs and my heart crushed.

Back to today’s main topic. I have a short concentration span. My bad.


Small brain

I want to be rich. Like gay men in the Time’s magazines rich. Own little Chihuahuas and pink dolls. And white surfaces and African art collections. Afford to have a Jacuzzi airlifted in my bathroom and have mirrors everywhere in my basement. Because I have to see the awesomeness of my cars in 3D. Have manis and pedis daily, although I think it is a total waste of chocolate money.

I love all my gay brothers. But is there some secret code that says you have to don white everything and yes, what’s will all the money? Also, someone has to explain to me why all gay dudes have abs. At least the ones I know personally. I would really like to know because I intend to come back as a straight succubus in my afterlife.

Really fine brothers from another father. Tightens my lesbian screws.

Money motivates me. And beautiful co-workers


I don’t persevere the morning traffic and wake up early like a mad woman just to be bored at work. I hate my job so there has to be something I look forward for waking up to everyday.

A friend has a crush on his female lecturer. Fair enough. It makes him go to school every day. There has to be something going on in your life. Could be the fact that you are broke and pizza craving drives you crazy, or beer or just anything. Or you want to surprise her with an expensive gift on her birthday or anniversary. But you can’t afford that shit and hell has no fury like a broke woman.

Money is my biggest motivator. I don’t care whether I will get it at the hands of my maniac boss or wherever, I have to harlem shake all the way to my bank. I am overwhelmed at how much I can do when I want the bank notes. I am lazy at many things, like cooking. But when it comes to envisioning my future with lots of money in the bank, Bolt can’t beat that.

Every minute in your life counts. Bathe your neighbor’s kid, do community work, volunteer in a children’s home, anything. Success won’t find you in your pity party mode. You have never set foot in a college door, so what? Steve Jobs did not die for that crap!  

Pass time doing something you like, like writing crappy blogs (I am a living example), cook something, you just might discover your culinary skills while at it. Have an outlet to life. Bore people to death with recycled jokes, or posting gazillions of pictures in face book every day, they might give you a job in a mental institution.



                                                   Don’t just sit and do nothing.

To live is to choose, but to choose well, you must know who you are and what you stand for, where you want to go and why you want to get there.


If you don’t like where you are, move, you are not a tree’.

I hate quotes.

Happy weekend y’all.


I made an ass out of myself

Saseni booby munchers 🙂

I have many memories of Nairobi International Trade fair. As a young kid, I wouldn’t have missed attending the shows. Mostly for the ice cream mouthgasm. Image

It was the in thing for the kids back then, uhm, please don’t get it twisted, I am still very young. I am seventeen plus experience kinda thingy 😀 But hey, I learn from the best aka most Kenyan ‘celebs’ that turn twenty every birthday.

Necessary side note: This post is not about Nairobi International Trade Fair.

Fast forward to 2011 and enters a university project. Some of my friends were blessed with cute sharp brains unlike me because all I do is stare at boobs, moobs, all kinds of boobs. I am kidding, just the boobs! So this schoolmate was doing some awesome stuff with his brains (I swear he has two) and he asked me to assist. A project I won’t dig deep into because it means doing a whole new post.

My work was among many things, to smile and welcome passersby. And welcoming I did, until a certain woman walked in. A high profile woman because she even had bodyguards. I didn’t know who she was but I knew she was rich, or famous. Seeing rich and famous mixes up well in a sentence, I was ready to face Mount Kenya right there. Praying, because I didn’t know what else I could do in that second our eyes met apart from asking for Baby Jesus to intervene.

I was not prepared for this.

Hell, I was not even prepared to hold a one minute talk with anyone. But this woman was not relenting. There are so many things I can do around a striking beautiful rich woman but explaining sciency stuff is not one of them. See, this friend of mine had made a gadget whose capability was to sweep the entire humanoids off the face of earth. You know those mean robots that do everything including telling you when to change your tampon?

I thought maybe she was an African Queen, or a foreign Minister. I could tell. I could feel it emanating from her, some high vibration of awesome that normal people don’t have. If you ever get to see one up close, you will know famous people are way better than the rest of us. Or at least I felt like she was.

I stood there in awe just staring at her. Jesus H Christ! I started to freak out. My genius friend jumped in and sweetly explained his magnificent work to her, throwing a side eye to me wondering why my hands were shaking that fast.


She made a joke about something and I laughed inappropriately long and hard, a little snort coming out of my nose and landing somewhere on my hand. Shaking hands and to cupper that, a snort.  I could have died right there in front of that woman. Her eyes quickly gazed at the spot but she ignored and continued to smile graciously at me. I can’t remember what I said or what I didn’t say but it was in the line of something very embarrassing.   


I know, I could have excused myself and walked out, or say something professional like how Nairobi is the only City with a frigging National Park but I didn’t. I just stood there and embarrassed my whole country and destroyed all chances of us getting foreign tourists money.


 After she left, my genius friend was baying for my blood ready to sue me 🙂

I love women so much. But I try so fucking hard at looking sane when I am around them. I experience extreme anxiety, it is a disorder I have no control over right at the center of my brain.

I love rainbows. Maybe that’s the disorder doctors should study on.



The look


More like a passing glance

A short conversation that lasted five minutes ups

A moment worth writing, of what memories are made of

The hot lawyer.

She gave me that look.

The look that told me she knows and she understands

The look that made me forget the presence of the male co-worker who introduced her to me.

The look that said we might never meet soon but I have really liked you

The look that made her nod to my every sentence

The look that touched me places


She left me smiling

Her business outfit

Her handshake

Her perfume

Her smile


In her allure I sank deep

The very short encounter

That took my breath away.








A lesbian prays for Kenya

If you are a Kenyan like me and you will be casting your vote next week on March 4th, bless your heart. I am not vying for any seat; I just said bless your heart to make you feel better while you will be baking your face under the hot sun on those long queues. Also, you are a patriotic Kenyan and you want good leaders. And it is a beautiful thing to want good leaders.

I am a first timer on the whole voting process but thank God for the IEBC voter education ads. I am well informed and I will go out and vote, and most importantly live peacefully with my neighbours after that. I have heard so many peace messages but really, it cannot be over emphasized.  I will preach peace some more because I am scared shitless of locking myself in the house for fear of meeting a man with an axe who will chop my head off and eat my heart. That is how freaked out I was after the last election.

You see, I will die some day. The computers and cell phones that will take over this green earth will not give a rat’s arse about how many tribal jokes I made, or which neighbor I ran over because my preferred candidate did not win. Life goes on, with or without me.

So instead I will be praying the good Lord to cover everyone with his holy blood and wash their garments to be as white as snow (in short I will be repenting for everyone’s sins). I know the last time you were dragged to church was two decades ago but I understand it and I love y’all 🙂

I told my dad the candidates I am voting for earlier this week and he was not amused. But that does not mean that he will fuck things up for me and refuse to pay for my school fees or throw me out of his house. Since he don’t want me to spend the rest of my life on the streets begging and he wants me to move out go get married some day and bring him chubby grandkids he has the best wishes for my life, He said that he respects my decision.

We are all Jesus friends in our family but if you are a stranger and you get invited while we discuss politics, get the fuck outta there if you love your brain because you might get permanent brain seizures.

Still, we are all family. And so is every Kenyan you meet every other day.

Thank you Lord for every person who will happen to read this blog today. Let your blood flow over them in an amazing holy river of amazing peace. That they may PREACH and maintain peace after the election. Thank you Lord.

I have put the word preach in bold because not everyone has access to the interwebs and those are the people who need the peace message the most.

The sermon is over. Go thee all and preach peace.