Why you won’t be getting laid anytime soon.


I am not an expert on dating advice. Writing a queer blog means I have very big shoes to fill, wearing many hats like making sure lesbians get laid and what have you happens to be one of them. Everyone or majority of people loves sex. It is a primal instinct. You aren’t getting some with that girl and you want it as a matter of utmost urgency so here is how you are blowing it, and thoroughly. Rather, I should write words you would understand; why you are a royal pain in the ass in the dating world. Annoying words huh? You aren’t familiar with annoying until you have encountered a woman who types in shorthand. That’s where I am embarking on this annoying habits journey.

I may not word this as memorably and assertively as I’d like to, but please for the love of the crucified Christ, never use shorthand. Even my ten year old nephew does not abbreviate messages. Here’s a setting:

Me: Hey
Her: Hye (yes, there is such a word apparently)
Me: (Rolling eyes) How’s your day?
Her: Jz bumn in de hauz
Me: (Ten minutes later) Okay. That is not a very bad thing I guess..
Her: Nah, tz bd! M bord 2 deth!
Me: (unspecified amount of time later) I am sorry to hear that. Have a nice day.

It is not remotely possible to continue with this conversation, a whole ten minute of my life that I will never get back. That right there is the cream of the top if you ask me. The fucked-upness of them all. Seriously, I could write a novel. Jz=just, bumn=bumming, hauz=house, tz=it is, bd=bad, M=I am, bord=bored, deth=death, (just in case you aren’t familiar with that kind of code). Which over sixteen humanoid makes the deliberate effort of typing like that? The woman in the above setting is ironically bumming in the house but for highly complex reasons, she cannot bring herself to type fully formed words like the grown up she is. There got to be some place you take the time you saved while writing that. Somebody ought to educate me. Or maybe it is something in our food. Is it a childhood issue, like lousy upbringing? Are these the famous kids that weren’t held enough, or the babies nobody picked up? For those of you who are well travelled, is this kind of twaddle found in other countries or is it a Kenyan tragedy? Surely, if you are a victim of this kind of retarded way of communicating, do whatever you got to do to stop. Go back to school if you have to.

Just because you are a lesbian does not mean you look like a walking disaster. This encompasses everything. From the clothes you wear, your hair, how you smell, shoes-it all goes together. You have to make deliberate efforts to take care of yourself. I understand we are living in very hard economic times. The taxes, soaring prices of food, everything is downright expensive. I get that. I am struggling just like everybody else. I also get the bad hair days and the extremely broke days. That’s cool once in a while. But by God, not every day of your life. If you can afford the luxury of indulging in cigarettes and beer every other weekend, you can afford a nice perfume and I clearly don’t have to spell out everything for you. Women like women who look and smell good. It is a universal principle of fashion that majority of women (straight and non-straights) dress for other women. Therefore, we notice these things. We are naturally responsive to these kinds of stuff. Don’t break a bank to look good though. Work on a minimum budget and save up the rest of the money. On that saving up note, I feel compelled to add a note here. There is a group of lesbians that try too hard to impress. We are warmed up nicely with the idea that you have a hundred pair of heels, sneakers, boat shoes, hoodies et al. Which is nice. But please, don’t be that lesbian who hits thirty without a penny under her name. I am just saying that given the option of showing off with expensive clothes, hanging out in expensive clubs and saving some money for rainy days, I’d choose the latter. You can only live off your parent’s money for so long. Plus, we shall label you for that lesbian who donned expensive shoes but is now living off donations. Save and save is all I am saying.

Be intelligent. It doesn’t matter whether you were an all E’s student or all A’s in high school. The kind of intelligence I am talking about here is not school related. However, if you are an ardent follower of the gay scene in the world, you will notice that many queer people are well read. They are ridiculously intelligent. Arts, academics, sports, name it. Chances are, you will end up with one of these people across your table. Honey, do yourself a favor and get some education in your head. The words that come out of your mouth are directly connected to the kind of people you attract in your life. We are endeared to people who know stuff, anything. Be passionate about something, be that woman people phone to get updates on warring countries, or to get your views on the controversial Lupita’s dress. You get the drift. Have your own views on life. You can’t be agreeing on everything people say. It is a major turn off with most people. It doesn’t matter whether you are in the Guinness list of the hottest people on earth or you are the chosen Daughter of Zion. As long as you have a doughnut for a brain, then many people will be blind to your beauty. Or maybe they will be attracted to you for some time and then drop you like the hot stuff you are. I am just saying, know the world around you, sweetheart.

Be independent. Again, no one has invented the word I need to emphasize on this one. It is okay to need help, it is okay to be vulnerable, it is okay to borrow money from people when you get broke and you desperately it. The highest number of citizens in Kenya are unemployed, no means of livelihood whatsoever. I get it. But for christ’s sake don’t be too needy and clingy about it. Borrow money only when you need it, and return it back while at it. There’s very little that puts as much strain on relationships and friendships as the constant habit of borrowing money. You become that woman that people avoids, people will vanish out of your life. You will die alone, you will spend your life thinking you were cursed, the works.

This list is only the half of it. There is enough to wake the dead but being a Monday morning, I know you have other more interesting things to do with your life dear reader. You are free to use these tips, by the way. You know where to send the royalty cheque.

Blessed week.


How my closet door almost got ripped off its hinges

I was thirteen.

At this age, kids are out there learning how to preserve the earth and read their way into becoming top-notch neurosurgeons, but not the 13y/o that was me. I had learnt that there was more to the bees and bird’s story. My whole purpose on earth became the undaunted task of unraveling this mystery and wonderment and I found it from these two girls in high school.

One of them was my best friend whom I had a crush on since day one of my high school life. She was a knock-out. In fact, God had hired her during his last day of creation and he was like, you know what? thy shall possess all the remaining beauty of this creation, because you are sweet as pie, and I am God, I am allowed to do such stuff.

Being the romantic midget that I am, there was no way on earth I was going to confess to her that I could be her kindred spirit plus other benefits too.

Stories have been told about lesbians in high school facing the wrath of expulsion; these become painful memories that follow you for the rest of your life. There are depressing things in a lesbian’s in life which eventually fades away with time, enough determination and maybe expensive therapists. ‘Lesbian behavior’ expulsions is not one of them, they are in a class of their own, no amount of alcohol you pour on them will make these memories go away- – you can blow away the entirety of your income hiring ‘em therapists but eventually, you will meet that bitch from high school on the streets who will oust your ass all over again. Really, high school for you will never end.

These tales made me shudder in fear. Girls were to be watched from a far and no amount of lesbian fantasies would make me touch one. Figuratively speaking, ye perverts of the world.

I should have stuck with this mission and direct my teenage energy into solving complex algorithms but no, this was adrenaline rush for pete’s sake.

During my second term in my second year of high school, all my lesbian alarm bells went off. Lust, wet dreams and other words of the same family came running after me day and night at disconcerting speeds.

You see, I saw the two girls kiss on my way to the dormitory from my night preps. I became unstoppable; oh mercy, I was in deep. I used to have these heart shaped sheets which I preserved to write for my first true love and now the moment was here, and writing I did.  Fancy drawings and heavy Oxford dictionary words were used. I finally stamped it with my signature fragrance, smeared my lips with lipstick and sealed it with a kiss.

The letter made her spine turn to gel.

I think I had a way with words back then, as compared to the present where I have to hit on a woman with 140 freaking characters. The feeling was mutual she said: she had always liked me but somehow figured I was not ‘like that’.


The nagging issue was how I was going to dip my toes into the issue that was her current girlfriend. We had to start somewhere, but attempting to enter the world of threesomes was a dicey dive, besides, I never wanted to share her with anyone. Teenage love. We decided to play it cool, I don’t even know what that meant but it was like stealing sugar from the sugar jar and leaving some on your cheeks kind of setting, so she found out eventually.



 Nothing says you are all fucked up better than an estranged jealous fourteen year old. I will call her Beth (second time I am using this name here). By the way, I am in no way affiliated or bitter with chics called Beth, it’s just the name that comes to mind every time I am doing a post. But was i in her shoes, I would have acted the same way maybe so I don’t blame her now.


Beth went ballistic. She started blackmailing me by writing me hate letters and such, but the capper of it all was when she broke into my school locker and found a picture I had taken with Sheryl (yes even her name was a total knockout) in a not so Godly pose. She threatened to take it to the Deputy Principal. I don’t know about Deputy Principals from other schools but the one we had in high school will have her own bunk bed in hell. That woman would literally beat the daylights out of you if she even dreamt that somehow you were about to commit a wrong. 


I had to save my ass quick and fast. So in return I asked Sheryl to gather all the notes Beth had written to her and give them to me. She was in love with me too and was willing to do anything to save me now that Beth was entirely and specifically targeting the co-wife, me. I copied all them in my own handwriting (I couldn’t risk giving her the originals since they were my only exhibit) and passed all of them to her and on the envelope, I wrote, sounds familiar? That did it, it gagged her completely.


But during Beth’s brouhahas trying to name and shame me, a few girls had gotten wind of our secret (between Sheryl and I) that there might be a thing going on worth of their discovery. That meant that to prove them wrong, we had to cut all ties. It’s an ordeal I would rather not revive, spending each day with Sheryl like she was a complete stranger, craving for her touch; I had even imagined marrying her.


It is like your fashionista friend telling you that your favorite pink pants look so terrible on your butt. Now all you can do is hang the goddamn pants in your closet and look at them every day and sob your brains out.


Oh, the love story is over.




How to tell if a Kenyan girl is a lesbian

Hey Kittens 😀

So you are a lady and there is this other lady turning you to mush but you are not sure whether it is your gaydar or your dry spell thirst…

This is that blog where hunting girls is always on open season and in as long as I live, you will never walk alone. Imma do this the Kenyan way, and I am doing my own character assassination. So if she owns or does one or all of the listed below thingies, go ahead and shag that girl.

You might however consider taking a bit of some advice; a straight girl might be of the same character as the undermentioned. Don’t go holding someone’s wife titties or you will go to prison. You are better off jerking off at home than getting raped at Langata Women Prison. I am just saying.


1. Female TV anchors and radio personalities.

Laura Walubengo, Julie Gichuru, Lilian Muli, Anne Kiguta, Valentine Njoroge, Linda Ogutu, Betty Kyalo, Victoria Rubadiri, Nini Wacera, Janet Mbugua, I could go on until the cows come home. Their names are sculpted in my yin and yang. I have a crush on all of them; it’s an abnormality going on.
I don’t think any of them play for my team but who cares! I talk about them all the time, about anything really. Take Valentine Njoroge and her baby doll face for example. I think she had all the good genes surgically implanted in her at birth; I could buy her a white horse, when my skint ass comes into money i.e. My God! I have such an over-active imagination.

2. Music/movies

I will listen to all kind of music if it has some lesbo girl in it or the girl acts queerish. I don’t care if it’s horrible music, I’m a minority and I support my own by buying (ok, downloading) music by babes from my family tree. You will find Tracy Chapman (a particular favourite, up there with pizza and chocolate), Jessie J, Diana King, Lady gaga, Nicki Minaj, Missy Elliot et al in my playlist.

Sometimes I will listen to very weird music, like hard metal. The one you don’t hear a thing and you have to Google all the frigging lyrics and cry yourself to sleep because while listening to it, you developed a frigging headache.

Of course I like all movies with lesbian characters. Before I buy one, I will Google it first; I want to know about the leading characters, are they women and how hot are they? Any movie with loads of women in it is awesomesauce!

3. Gay men.

How cool is it sleeping with a man in the same bed whose willy doesn’t even notice a girl is there? It is so totally cool.

They will keep you on your toes because unlike their heterosexual counterparts, questions like do I look fat in this are answered with honey, keep away from food for the next one month. I mean duuuh!

I don’t need fashion diaries with these dudes around; they know the difference between a fedora, a derby, a homburg and a pork pie.

You should Google these items just in case you think they are food groups.

Also, they are walking dictionaries these ones. I love that about them. They have different accents for different occasions, they are that intelligent ‘em twenging earthlings. Get the gay boys to do everything is the motto I use.

4. Dress code.

I am as feminine as they come. You won’t miss these items in my closet; scarves (a lot), blazers, hoodies, jerseys, bangles (a lot too), sneakers.. In short, I am better off with flats shoes. I am obsessed with scarves and bangles its crazy! I don’t know why, but lesbians have a long-term relationship with these items.
You might also find one or two lesbo paraphernalia which I keep hidden because I live with snoopy siblings.

5. Texting.

You would think I am re-building the Great Wall of China while typing on the phone. How else I am I supposed to stay in touch with all the lesbians of this country? The chats start with a simple hi and can stretch all day long arguing over whether to iron or not to iron our knickers.

I’m a bored youth with the privilege of owning a phone and Safaricom did not give us 500 texts a day for nothing.
Really, Wangu wa Makeri did not sit on men’s bottoms for me to sit in traffic counting all the pink Vitzes. I will spend a whole day texting and I don’t owe anyone any bloody apology.

I will ignore your advice on how I should be building the economy of Kenya and keep typing, you are preaching to the converted. There are so many other hardworking Kenyans building the nation somewhere and I don’t see why you should pick on me!

So you will find me grinning while sending silly smileys all day long. Those little fuckers light up my world.

6. I am out with the girl’s night.

My ass is better off drinking burnt porridge and cold tea at home because I am too lazy to do anything, to dress up and to go clubbing. But when I do go out, it is such a big event it will leave everybody talking; the waitresses at least.

It takes a whole lot of convincing to bring a bunch of lesbians together so when we are in the club, we will break the bottles and flirt with all the waitresses.
We will demand to be served by a specific waitress because we have the hots for her. We will smoke and make out in the ladies rooms. Mostly, we are never in our best behavior.

It is in our DNA to cause scenes and go hammer and tongs with our exes who seems happier now that they are no longer with us, damn you philandering bitch we will shout. Fighting is our currency, the air we breathe.

7. Eye contact.

Mostly, I will hold my eyes on a woman for a whole minute if I am interesting in her. During this minute, I am sketching images about us eating pizza and riding on unicorns together in my head. I will smile radiantly and show naked thirst on my face. I am a weird girl.

It isn’t enough to read books about conquering the world of women and leave it at that.

I have to keep reassuring myself that I will truly conquer this certain girl I am eyeing. That is called affirmation. I will spend a whole day imagining myself taking an evening swim with Valentine Njoroge, that is called visualization. Or I will write lists of all the hot women in Kenya. That is called writing lists of all the hot women in Kenya.

A girl got to do what she got to do.

To be continued……………………..

An open letter to all women lawyers in Kenya

Hey kittens 😀

There is a certain group of women that really fascinates me. The cool girls’ a.k.a no words written on a keyboard can describe them.

Posts about these women are better written under the influence, because I can never find the correct English words to describe them while sober. Somebody call my imaginary waitress for a shot of vodka. As a kid, I used to think that vodka was a country or a state in the USA, I used to say when I grow up I would like to live in vodka. Cool right? Again, terrible schooling.
19 4

Actually, I don’t drink vodka; also I would rather be served by a male bartender. May be I should tell you why because I am all for letting embarrassing moments known by the whole world.

On my eighteenth birthday my older siblings thought of introducing me into the adult life, and because they are really creative, drinking ten bottles of beer was their idea of cool. So they took me to this club with really hot skimpily dressed female bartenders and guess what yours truly did? Your guess is right. There was this particular one who kept adjusting her breasts not because they needed adjusting; I guess they were just begging for a lil tlc from my brothers. And attention they got, from me.

I stood up in my drunken stupor and grabbed them titties. A whole twenty seconds of fondling someone’s breasts in a well lit bar. I have lived a miserable life convincing my siblings that I am straight; I would totally pass the polygraph test describing my imaginary prince charming. Ever since, my rational fear of female bartenders has had me scarred for life or to put it simply, I can’t bear the thought of being confronted with such harsh reality again in my life. The reality that I am such a bad, immoral human being. But in my defense, I was a tender eighteen year old full of naivety.

Anyway, back to the point. You know those girls in high school who always aced everything? They had a way of bullying the entire school with the amount of genius they exuded from their brain. The entire school would worship the ground they walked on.

They grew up to be something else. They now intimidate people in the society day in day out. I am talking about the legal practitioners. The likes of Njoki Ndungu ,Kethi Kilonzo, Martha Karua, Betty Murungi et al. Judicial pressure is something so profound to me.

I look at these women in awe. I can delve further into the details here and say the level at which they turn me on is alarmingly high.
La-dee-fuckin’-da! Everyone is turned on by lawyers. Look at the way Dan Ndambuki interviewed Kethi on Churchill live. He was looking at her oh so lustfully and undressing her in his head cloth by cloth. Ain’t no shame in that game. Kethi Kilonzo

Side note: I love Churchill show live the end, all his haters go suck dick.

It’s the way they are so intelligent, they know everything under the planet. They are the type that looks you straight into your eyes and unearth all your secrets. They bully us with their words; they make me melt into inferiority, fuck it I will be goddamned if I so happened to not cry myself to sleep everyday wondering what a sorry excuse of a human being I am.

I like watching legal drama movies. I find court thingies (I don’t understand court lingo duuh) freaking exciting.

And so I will write an open love letter to you,

I am I insane? Do you think I should relocate to Chalbi desert and die in my misery?

If I go scream my lungs out today, to the animal kingdom of the plains of Masai Mara declaring my love for you, would you think I belong in a mental institution?

Do you realize?

That I would drink your bath water

That I would rub massage oil on your feet for eternity

That I have wet dreams like boys do and they revolve around you

That I don’t want to have sex with you and those are just false rumours spread by people who want to ruin my good blogging life

That in fact I wouldn’t mind the sex if it was to be found within your borders

That my brain is my biggest flaw and the fact that it is constantly on, it might lead me into the court corridors because I wrote your name in a queer blog

Being honest about my feelings is a dagger I throw that will eventually turn back and stab my heart and that you would be the cause of said death

That your thoughts consume me so much I go to bed with a heavy heart everyday

That the sun sets just for you and I would love to spend one of those sunny days baking in the said sun with you
Now you do realize.

And so I will turn my brain off and tomorrow I will emerge hopeful. Because it is the only way to be. Even when thinking is bad for my health.

Again, a girl can dream.

Peace and love.

PS: Hey people who love me and adore me (haha! I am a funny woman), I am taking a short hiatus, probably a month. I hate it but I will be back. It’s not you dear groupies, it is me!
Miss me 😦

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.

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.








WomanCrush # 1

Saseni girl lovers 🙂

Lots of women make me happy. One of those women is our very own gracious; beautiful, stunning, fuck-a-mazing (is my thirst showing just yet?)

ImageANNE-for-all-things-holy-KIGUTA. You have to pause for five minutes just for the awesomeness of her name to get correctly wired in your brain.

She is a TV anchor and reporter (the cavemen are people too). Ever since she started gracing our 9 o’clock news, my life isn’t mines anymore. The voices of lesbian fantasies in my head have taken over. They are so loud I am afraid the priest will hear them during confession.

ImageRight, so we are all in agreement that lesbians love Kiguta, gay boys love Kiguta, okay for the gay boys I am not sure but I am sure you make a point to stop and watch her kill it dead right there in your living room every night if the opportunity arises.

The Standard Media group should set aside a whole show just for her. Because one hour is not enough and I am talking of thousands of gay girls obsessing over one woman. I can show you a whole list of them.  Hell you guys I am talking of gazillions of lost revenue.

She haunts me (in a good way of course).

I think about her.

I process her to my friends all the time.

I obsess about her.

I quietly stalk her online.


I dissect her over drinks.

I will never be over her.

I am fucked.

Let me go mourn my misery.