Our lesbian scene (and things that ought to be left behind in 2014)

Here is a question whose answer may surprise you: Who are among the leading cigarette smokers in the world? Yap. Gay people. We are weirdly cool like that. Actually, this is not new information. And if you Google and not find the same, it is still something I won’t seek correction over.

Maybe I need to bring someone on here to explain to me in elaborate lengths about the smoking trend. I understand it is refreshing to watch a woman smoking and it is sexy so ipso facto she is sexy too e.t.c.. all I am saying is I don’t get the giving in to trends vibe. I am not saying smoking is bad. You are allowed to blow up your lungs like a world war II twin engine fighter plane because damn right, they are your lungs so by all means, move forward with the same unstoppable grit. But not because every lesbian is doing it, okay? Pick your own bad habits; say smoke shisha or Marijuana (saying Marijuana in 2014 is unforgivable) for instance. Wait, lesbians are smoking those too. And that is on a normal day.

It is nothing short of miraculous that we still manage to look as wildly attractive as we do.

Now in bullet points, and not in any particular order:

  • The serial SMSers.

There are lesbians out there who can chat a good game. Which, full disclosure, is a little creepy. It is also kinda counterproductive going with our current wage bill and the price of food being what it is. Also, there is the endless internet and you feeling the need to carry the responsibility of reporting to the world every single detail of your living life. Honey, do you ever do your household chores or pee for chrissake? Honestly, you come out as an altogether not normal person.

  • Still on the interwebs. The relationship dramas.

This is, bar none, the frosting on the Kenya lesbian scene cake. It is a cutthroat competition on who gets the most likes on exposing whom they have slept with, which Kenyan celebrity is gay or not yada yada. Some dramas can only be likened to something right out of a spy novel but thing is, one hour from now no one will remember how many likes or retweets you got from all that poppytalk. If that’s even an appropriate word. Because it doesn’t seem to do it all justice. People will remember you for all the wrong reasons, ‘oh here comes the drama queen bitch’. You don’t wonna be that girl. Forgive your Ex, move on, find a new one. Preserve that energy for something else, like growing potted plants in your bedroom or whatever. Please, just move on.

  • One-beer-in-the-club-the-whole-night-in-the-name-of-partying.

This goes back to going with the trends and riding on popularity. This is how some (some being the operative word) college kids have completely torn apart the very fabric of our lesbian scene. These are the type who move in cliques and sag their jeans. No surprise there. Speaking of which, are girls still sagging their pants in 2014? Keeping up with fashion trends is amongst my many blind spots so I am no expert in fashion matters. Your dress your choice right? Right.

My point is, choose your priorities right. And maybe your number one priority right now should be to stick up your broke ass in college and read. Partying every night is fun, but is up there with a steady paycheck.

  • The enemy within.

Girls. Girls. Girls.

A certain lesbian is rocking a pink Daniel Wellington watch and you have the faux version? Let’s all roast her ass. Does she have a better blog? By all means yes crucify that bitch on the big wooden cross. Is she an academe and you can’t construct an English sentence to save your neck? Hell, bring on the barbecue. Is she skinnier than you? Prettier? What, she “snatched” the girl you have been crushing on? Honey, how many women have to be cyber bullied and suffer for you to thrive? Is it really worth it? What happened to being your sister’s keeper? The paucity of vocal queer women only means that this is a perpetual battle.

I can’t think of the right words I truly want to say on this one. I feel words going ahead without me. God, I need a coffee.

  • The “trendy” accessory that is the gay dude.

Like there isn’t enough commodification of gay men going on in the market already. Have a gay dude friend out of genuine reasons. Not just because the idea of having a cute boy with a ripped chest to tag along with you in family occasions completes your perfect ad for road to success. Everyone is human, after all.

Our yardstick should be to aim for the quality of our fellow queer women lives. It should not be about competition because you will never win. Maybe I will conclude on the list when I get back.

Meanwhile, this marks my last 2014 post. A sincere thanks to every single one of you; getting all mushy isn’t normal fodder for yours truly but I will say this with utmost honesty-it was a great blogging year for me because you were all in it and you were good to me. I love you.

I will see y’all in 2015 Inshallah.

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Lesbian sex (for dummies)

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A girl puts two fingers up to her mouth in a V sign and squirms her tongue between them. That is the universal sign for I wanna lick your pussy. I am surprised you didn’t know that too.

No holds will be barred in this post so you might as well stop here if you are underage or you are some holy person or you are squeamish about words like pussy e.t.c., e.t.c.

Congratulations.

Heterosexual sex is commonplace common knowledge. What do I put where? When? How? At what time? I am yet to read about some dude who put it in her ear mistaking it for her vagina. Everybody finds their way out somehow, like a tot suckling on their first day, or eating in the dark. Those analogies are terrible beyond words, but stay with me.

Enter lesbian sex and we have the highest levels of anxiety the world has ever known. It goes in the lines of do I finger her, do I rub her clitoris, do I suck her breasts, do I chain her hands on the bed, do I bite her tongue off? e.t.c., e.t.c. Add the I-have-absolutely-no-idea line to it and we have a pile of confused anxious lesbians milling about the earth. Words like clitoris, vagina and lesbian are said in torturous whispers. They are terrifying words to even contemplate.

So, I suppose I should get this started by saying that there is no such thing as an experienced lesbian. This is the truth. There is no underground lesbian subcommittee with the power to decide on lovemaking top performers or something like that. It is a matter of tossing a coin and every lesbian dreads it because it involves a great deal of work. It can be as complicated as knowing all the numbers of the elements in the periodic table, or it could be as easy as eating ice cream. It can never be homogenized. It is not grouped into past lesbian partners or zero experience tick box, or age or exposure or anything really.

It’s about self-confidence and being eager to have sex.

So before you freak out on your first lesbian sex experience, chances are that your ‘experienced’ partner is half as freaked out. And you can’t blame her. She doesn’t know whether to approach you with great gentleness, or like a crack stimulated addict. You could change into something wildly different at any second. Maybe you turn blind after you climax or maybe you recite holy chants in your ancestor’s language. You know, she can never tell what you can turn into. She is having her first experience with you.

Sex demands have risen generally; everyone is stressed up with stuff in life and we all need escapisms; like sex in this case. Darling, don’t make it more difficult by expecting her to know everything. Communicate with her; this is a love bed not a graveyard for chrissake. Moan, cry; be creative. Narrate stories even; (It’s a thing; watch OITNBS02E04). The part where Nicky Nichols is going down on Brook Soso. Totally cracked me up. Uh-oh, I should have started with a spoiler alert warning.

Be in the moment and stay with her. This is not the right time to worry about your clothes (that are lying on the floor at this time) having different shades of black. While at it, forget about some mythical Egyptian Queen hourglass body shape and concentrate on loving the body you have now. I know this is a tall order for majority of women but I am really trying not to lose my coolness points here. Low self body image is not a great thing when juxtaposed with a horny woman next to you is all I am saying. She needs motivation, and motivation is what she should get.

“Don’t compare your Chapter 1 to someone else’s Chapter 20”. This holds water, I agree. It is obvs that a woman who is having brand new lesbian sex cannot be compared to a lesbian who has been around the block but as I said earlier, this hardly matters. And just in case you think I am contradicting myself, well I am not. I cannot let the darkest powers of contradiction shame me on this post. Sex is a very difficult topic, so keep that in mind as you read on.

It is not written on your face that you are a baby dyke and so long as you have the desire, there are two of you on that bed and the last thing on your mind should be about the particulars. No amount of reading lesbian sex for dummies books or Google will save your ass, it is about following cues from her and asking. Ask. Ask. Ask.

Lesbian porn is another dangerous thing that can put the fear of the Lord on a baby dyke. Take the amount of spotless pussy on there, for instance. And little tattoos all over the waxed bodies. Well, I certainly believe that you are aware that it’s all plastic. No? Oh really? Impressive!

We wish we could do all those things but we don’t, I’m afraid. Amid the fake moans and muff-dives and humongous dildos and long nails, actual sex does happen. And it doesn’t involve all that, friend. So while you were busy taking notes from these lesbo clips, lesbians were busy climaxing to plain old lesbian sex. And I think many lesbians prefer the aforementioned. But this is just speculation from me at this point I should add. There are lesbians with fetishes for other strange sexual behaviours and I don’t have the figures to back that up as of now. Many lesbians (and you can quote me on this) will not be comfortable with muff-diving during your first sexual encounter with them and sex toys and (I could go on). Relax and stop being nervous.

Enough of this chatter. We don’t want that girl you have been eyeing to slip through your fingers, now do we?

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Why you won’t be getting laid anytime soon.

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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.

What endures?

(Title plagiarized from Dust by Yvonne Owour)

I highly recommend the book, by the way. Measureless talent.

There is this lesbian blog I follow and the couple just celebrated their tenth anniversary. It got me thinking. Clearly God show up with the formula for permanent lesbian relationships in some whereas in others, he grins and walks away and it seems the prime candidates are in this country (in the latter). You will need a strong heart, lungs and bones for that ten years stretch. Look around.

By look around, I mean mutually exclusive couples. They don’t cheat lust or flirt with other women or any other conventionally accepted manner of cheating. Which is basically everything including hugging other women. Those emojis you send a girl that is not your girlfriend equates to cheating. In fact, the whole having a phone while in a relationship is a total sham. You know those whatsapp groups? euphemism for breaking up relationships en masse. I am not crazy about them but there is no-way no-how anyone will convince me that things with such impressive following don’t come with encrypted content and the decoding phase is when you first and fast sleep with the queen bee. Like hell, there is always a queen bee. High school never ends.

A large number of lesbians have had heterosexual relationships in their lives. Chances are one woman in a lesbian relationship started as a heterosexual woman. Those who have been in lesbian relationships exclusively are few and far between. This right here is problem numero uno. To put a finer point to it, this is the mother of all problems in lesbian relationships.

I was having a very adult conversation with a woman who has been married to a man and together, they have grown kids. They are now separated because of irreconcilable differences one of those being the good old deal breaker; cheating. Both of them did cheat. A younger (and leaner) woman for the man and a younger (and leaner) woman for the woman. The leaner in bracket was a word used by the woman in question so seems this particular couple is hot about lean people. Anyway, this good woman finally solved the final dilemma that is her sexuality and came to terms with the fact that it rests in between another woman’s legs and boy, she is ‘seriously living the life’ as she puts it. Now, she can finally do what she wants.

That last sentence got my brain frying. She assured me that she didn’t take up this woman as a rebound as she has always been a lesbian (but could never act on it). That’s not what I was crazy about actually, it’s the pernicious belief that could be the death of us all; suddenly it’s okay to hang out with the girls until the wee hours of the morning; suddenly you cannot wake up in the morning and make breakfast for your partner; suddenly you can touch another woman’s hair because it is ‘harmless, honey she is just a girl’. First let me burst that bubble for you. In fact, we better call it a more dangerous word like a hand grenade. I won’t sugarcoat this for you. Here, we work twice as hard.

Why the double standards? What makes you feel less threatened and safer here? For pity’s sake, lesbian partnership aren’t merely for entertainment. Forgive me dear reader for stating the obvious; yes we do have loads of fun here (hell, all we do is party) but unless someone debunk these stereotypes, our relationships shall continue being the joke of this earth is all I am saying.

It is politically correct for me to say that if a woman can afford the luxury of worshiping a man like he is Gautama Buddha himself, then by all means all rules applies here. A relationship is a relationship in any standpoint. But here we complement each other; time is long past when women were servile housewives. Also, the muscularity/subservient myth in lesbian relationships should be broken down for the sham that it is.

I place the blame squarely on ourselves because we expect too much if we begin our relationships on a trial and error method. Tried and true formulas have proved that the insidious expectation of expecting God to show up along the way is expecting a tad too much.

If you’ve read Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert you will understand just how much work the ten-year stretch I talked of call for. Prenuptial agreement in our country might be illegal for us but we can apply the same formula for our relationships. We got to make do with what we have to make it work because we need more archetypes in these relationships. Our relationships should endure.

Why I write a lesbian blog

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I will go ahead and make a horrible fool out of myself and write a very serious post. Before I started this blog a year ago, I had toyed with the idea of writing about my daily happenings, but then it hit me that I don’t have a life hence will run out of ideas in under one month max.

Glory to God the highest, his son gave me a sign. In his own commanding voice he asked, how many more endorsements do you need Queer Kenyan Girl? Do you actually need me to drop on earth again (urrgh those fuckers!) and speak to you about how big a lesbian you are? I was thoroughly shaken. You know, this was God’s voice and all. I would want to imagine it was. Or maybe I was just hallucinating. I drink way too much coffee. I mean, what will happen when I ran out of lesbian stories? Because trust me, there are not many left out here. Lesbians practically spend their lives behind their screens, or holding tight tiny notepads writing things that actually make sense.

See, I am my worst critic. No big deal with that actually. Thing is, you will find no prose or thesis of lesbian history here, nor activism, neither journals of how lesbians should take over the whole world. I can tell you dear reader, it’s just pure melancholy and doom. That’s what you signed up for. Please don’t say you were never warned if two years from now you are expecting me to post statistics of lesbian divorce rates in a state in I don’t know what godforsaken country. Say your adieus to all hopes you had in me.

So really, why do I go to all the trouble that is writing?

A reader asked me that, and then another. Before I could get the time to act all grown up, kids in high school started writing to me asking for big sister lesbian advice. Shit just got real. It is like the universe has conspired to finish me.

Is somebody allowed to not have a reason for doing something? For instance an answer; I write because I realized hey, I could do with those amazing typing speeds! God. That’s the day the world will finish me no doubt. You are not living this life if you haven’t memorized all Mother Teresa quotes. It’s sacrilege to even mention such a name here. Oh, be very inspiring and sh!t. You are the adult here! Growing up is seriously underrated. Anyway, this post is all kinds of reflective. I have in fact very little sense of reflection. Feed me with humor and my stomach will sit balmy in the corner of people who don’t take life seriously… (Now I am stalling).

Question: Do I love women? An emphatic and unequivocal, Yes! This reason by itself towers above all the rest. Like-the-class-is-over-you-can-all-go-home-now-yes. Does this motivate me to write? Is it reason enough to cost me endless all-nighters? Do I get inspired by women? Hell-fucking-yeah! Women make me exceedingly happy. Duhh, my law of attraction revolves around them, I just can’t fight it..oh how I could go on..

My posts are written against a background of moaning women.

Forget about finding muse in coffee shops and in the woods. Just download audio of female voices (God bless the interwebs) and you are our next J.K Rowling. I am all types of weird.

I write because I am not a talker. I am so very socially awkward. I could be a hermit but then again I would go quietly mad if I lived in a confined space with no pizza. I make up for my non verbal skills through writing. My mess of letters has made me correspond with women all over. The small joy of a woman telling me they look forward to my posts. Another one saying I write well. I am not tooting my horn, no, on the contrary. Honestly, I said here in a past post that I am not a writer. Just because I can put words together doesn’t make me one. I undermine myself; and yes, it is totally a self-esteem thing because look, five therapists on my phone’s speed dial! I am trying to make a point that it’s the possibility that someone will actually take time to write to me because of a particular post I have done that makes my blogging life orgasmically interesting.

I write because I have met a few wonderful and amazing women in the year or so I have blogged, in real life. I am finicky about people I meet up with. Writing a lesbian blog is like a veritable minefield; you just never know who uses what pseudonym; whether they are an actual human being and if they are, they are not desperados who will decapitate your head and drink your blood. My sexuality is a closely guarded affair and writing is a way of connecting with these women, giving myself to them since I wouldn’t have met them otherwise. They inspire me to keep writing, the proverbial grease in the wheels. They are jaw droppingly incredible and I would sacrifice anything for their friendship is dear to me.

I write because we are not many out here. Lesbians are natural story tellers. The stories that stalk a lesbian’s life are way too many to not be written. I looked around the Kenya lesbian blogosphere and decided to jump into the bandwagon. There gotta be loads of us telling these stories. Write your own story the way you want it we are told. (queer is me). Is that even proper English? That, I will leave to you grammarnazis. Also, blogging in our social scenes is regarded as an activity for people with too much time in their hands, a pure form of madness. It is a measure of showing just how ratchet you can get. Being all bored and ratchet is totally a thing nowadays peoples.

And finally, after I heard the voice I had mentioned earlier, I said unto My Lord, I am not worthy that you should pick me as your servant, but whatever you say I will write.

Authors note: Caffeine side effects: Hearing voices that disguise themselves as God. Google it up.

An open letter to Kenyan lesbians above forty

What a nerve I have, writing to you this open letter. But I guess this is a good time as any. So let’s have a small tete a tete now shall we?

I am not in your social circles; I am as impoverished as a church mouse. I am too loud, my ways are wayward. I live in my parent’s house. I drink cheap liquor and stagger like a Neanderthal. I am screwed basically.

I get it. I totally do.

Anyone feels exceptional pressure making a conversation with someone who doesn’t want to, but I cannot emphasize to you how important this small talk means to me. Can I call you dear? Dearie? pumpkin? I am not sure I know how you and your girlfriends refer to each other. For the purpose of this blog therefore, I will call you girlfriend. Everyone understands that girlfriend vibe.

Girlfriend, I really need strong quads to write this post. That’s how intimidating you are. You seem like the type that can eat me in one bite, you scare the pants off me for sure. But still, can you do me a huge favor and read till the end? muchísimas gracias. See, I am a cool kid, I even know some bit of Spanish. By the way, they refer to everybody under thirty as kid nowadays. Girlfriend, this is a generation from a different galaxy. Never mind, I am still finding some foundation for a conversation starter.

I completely understand the need for you to remain a mystery. Sometimes I am not sure you exist in Kenya even. Your camouflaging tactics are exemplary good. If I was at your age, perhaps I would also carefully closet my professional lesbian life. Maybe I would have overseas accounts to protect my money just in case the straight tax collectors came investigating my life. Also, there is the young generation to watch out for, they are on your money like white on rice. They think you got your fuchsia lipstick as a freebie, don’t they? Do they even understand how much that shit costs? How early you rise to hassle for those Dolce & Gabbana sunnies you got going? Do they for chrissake understand the pain you endure walking in heels all friggin day cuz you’re a friggin professional? They don’t, these kids. They fill their days instagramming food. Someone with such a habit would most probably not understand.

However, this might also be a negative stereotype. I am a true believer of listening to other people ideas. “If there is any one secret of success, it lies in the ability to get the other person’s point of view and see things from that person’s angle as well as from your own.” Who even had the faintest idea that I could use quotes? I completely blindside you, don’t I now? Those are Henry Ford’s words, girlfriend. Seeing one can get away with basing their arguments on a wise person’s words, don’t you think that we should reach a consensus on how to lead parallel lives?

There is a startling pattern with our lesbian scene. I somehow think it has become the universally accepted principle of living a lesbian life. You disappear into thin smoke after forty. Right girlfriend? What happened to life starts after forty? to sexual liberation.. What happened to sex hormones going amok (I happen to know) at your age? And while at it, what happened to getting a young woman of able kneecaps to fulfill these desires. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to get inside your sheets, I know there are very many others of your age where you come from who can perfectly fit inside your sheets.

What I don’t get is, don’t you get bored night after night performing orgies (again, I happen to know) with the same crowd of fifty year olds? I know you don’t give a fat turd about a youth whose moves in bed can only be compared to the speed of a herd of buffalo but guess what? I just want wanna be your bosom buddy. Seriously. It’s okay that you are superparanoid about me, it is even okay that I am just an average Joe and you are right at the top of your hassle but as one would expect of such a simpleton as me, I just want to hang out with your puppies and watch your cable TV. I know that is too much of me to ask.

Girlfriend, what I am trying to get at is that you have been around the block for some time. We could work a way where you would take me under your wings. Lesbian life is fraught with so many problems. We lay it on a foundation of shifting sand. I need your guidance on how to deal with my ex-girlfriends and their late night calls with their was-just-checking-on-you-vibe Please teach me your time standing ways.

You are not my mother. I’m far from suggesting that. You are a fine woman and not a mother figure in the least. That would be rude, calling you a mother considering I read wamama wako ushago in matatus every other time. What about we settle on how to define our relationship. We could do a big sis-lil sis thingie. Or seeing that I could vaccum your rugs for free, why not teach me how to interact with hot women and keep a straight face while at it.
That would come in handy dear girlfriend. The devil attacks me everywhere. Do you wanna hear about my colleague at work? she is too hot she could soft boil an egg. What would you do if you are held hostage and confined with a woman like that every day for eight hours? Tell me how you have managed to stand firm in gainful employment without facing any sexual harassment charges. How now, with all this madness does a woman of flagging spirit like yours truly not follow Lots wife extreme dishonest behavior and get turned to a ball of salt.

Do you even understand what I am saying here or should I enunciate every word for you.That I-need-your-help-because-I am-lost is what I am trying to say. Asking for help is the last stage, right after denial and insomnia and lusting after people’s wives stages. I am doing this with a pained face, my chicken comes injected with steroids and now my body is full of these steroids which give me a very fragile ego. In other very unrelated but imperative news, have you heard that they are now feeding our women with chicken feed? How can a generation be saved my dear girlfriend?

Do you think we should take a break? Me thinks we should. There will be a sequel and a trilogy. Meanwhile, I will go back to my Spanish ways and say chao for now girlfriend. Just for effect.

Hugs and kisses all around

To those of you disengaged from reality

bleh

There are a couple of words in the gay world you can say if you want to get ahead and look really clever. Use words like pederasty, libertine, exhibitionism, heterosexism et al in one sentence and this turns you from (let’s say) some simpleton with a Diploma in puppetry (do not take offense puppetry people) to some genius with impeccable erudition. Coming on the heels of the Anti-Homosexual bill signing in Uganda are queer bashers having a field day from here to Murang’a. Let’s leave Museveni and his fragile ego thing for now and talk about these facebookers and their 140 characters neighbors.

Christ! I bet this is the closest some of these people have ever got to a climax. I don’t befriend them for one nanosecond but their avalanche of crap somehow finds its way towards me. This is a huge culture of mediocrity and it has a huge following. No amount of muting or blocking will stop them. I am sure they gathered somewhere at night when they were adding friend requests and following each other on these social media platforms, did some weird rituals and decided let’s go and create havoc to the wicked. They are voluble and pestiferous; and they are idle. Stop them dead on their tracks and they will pounce on you like the proverbial crap hits the fan. Really, I have never seen so many difficult words in my entire internet life.

One of those idle people is Irungu Kangata, Kiharu MP. I won’t give him much airtime here but he is out there in Facebook practically surviving on huge doses of homophobia; which is putting it mildly cuz if this guy had a wish he would decapitate our heads. Update after update on his page on how homosexuals will cripple the economy of this nation and I am doing a running commentary in my head that it’s either these updates are for the amusement of small children or he is just deeply, deeply boring. I am not being figurative by the way; it is there on his wall. The economy of Kenya is coming down y’all.

So you got blood pressure? Bad hair day? Anglo-leasing? Marital issues? Jehovah witness at your door? Caught watching porn in the office, anyone?

HOMOSEXUALS!

Satan has nothing to do with it.

I am a seasoned lesbian. If you are going to spend your days thinking that your bashing is going to send heterosexual shock waves to my brain, you better come prepared. I’m driven by very primal lesbian urges and all the English vocab is not going to save me. The seasoned lesbian thingie comes fully equipped with immune for two. And I have had it since my pre-pubescent days.

Ah-ha. Kenya is very democratic. And you should voice your opinions. Now, assuming we were to all march the streets of Nairobi and torch vehicles every time a girl in her early twenties is made Deputy Ambassador of some country? It would be very unprofessional for a citizens known to stomach bigger scandals. We don’t carry placards and publicly rub ourselves on innocent pedestrians at the first opportunity. That’s what counts.

This post is about to turn political and it might rub on some people suggestively. I will leave politics to the intellectually inclined folks.

Stop being so melodramatic about it is all. It’s hackneyed and cartoonish.