Kells you tha man!

Strip for you was his third song and by far my most memorable moment of the concert, people are bitching about the show being agonizingly short and mismanaged but much as I agree that there were quite a number of glitches I would like to stress that even before last Friday it was evident that everyone and their mama would descend upon Lugogo, so if anyone came expecting not to push scratch and scream their way in they must be bonkers. One hour of R Kelly to me felt like forever and I have to take my hat off for Zain.

I had a whale of a time, it will take more than another superstar to make me as ecstatic as I was at the cricket oval, unless someone can by some -even Jesus’ jaw would drop miracle- bring New Edition back together for a show in town or bring the king of pop back from the land yonder I doubt I’ll be as star struck as I was that night, unless of course some dude can pull off a Jigga concert, long shot? Thought so too.

Fast forward to last Sunday and I am still partying, is this what Jay-z meant when he said after the show is the after party and after the party is the hotel lobby after the belve its probably cris………….. The Ghanaians may have lost to those Arabs but that didn’t stop me from getting my groove on, the booze was flowing courtesy of my employer and sexy divas were in constant supply. Take a look

That ladies and gentlemen is sexy diva Rina, former dream girl.


Darkness at noon: The misty pearl.

If I spent countless cold and wet nights in the bush, had to endure the horror and panic of gun battle after gun battle, watched my comrades drop dead or maimed for life right next to me as I fled for dear life from enemy soldiers in Luwero, if I endured all this, it is my inherent right to eat and keep eating until I get my fill, at what point I am supposed to stop eating and start caring for the well being and development of my impoverished citizens is entirely up to me, no one has a right to judge or criticize me let alone threaten me with prosecution for corruption.

Who was there when I went hungry for days, with only the tubers from diseased cassava tubers for food? Certainly not those self righteous donor technocrats who think they know what’s best for the third world, let them go ahead and take their money, after all haven’t we already discovered our very own black gold in Bunyoro? And then three was that pompous, wiseass of an IGG who thought she was a god sent avenging angel dispatched to earth to send me and my surviving comrades to the depths of hell, thank god some one put her in a place for good, speaking of which if I had my way I would order a certain judge be castrated and have his balls baked in a microwave right before his very own eyes, he even had the audacity to say my country had gone to the dogs, who was he to probe my involvement in the global fund project, they even caled it a scandal, I mean all we did was rightfully take what’s ours, who else does your retarded mind think the money was meant for? The sick? …Puleeez! They don’t deserve a dime, while we were dodging bullets they were hiding cowardly under their beds sucking each others……..

He Shakes uncontrollably with rage……wipes his glistening brow with a silk hanky, adjusts his gold cufflinks and stares unblinking into the camera………………..Ladies and gentle men,  if I have wronged anyone let them come up right now and face me, one cant even sell their land for a mere 11 billion without causing an uproar, is this the kind of country you want to live in? …looks around for some kind of acknowledgement……. Is it?… He asks again ……………..

The commandant sat looking on with an expressionless countenance, while his six fellow tribunal members exchanged bewildered looks and shook their heads, he did not even for a minute take his eyes off the accused. As he continued to listen to the ranting of the 70 year old delusional former minister his mind wandered back to the events of the past nine days…………… the storming of the state house in Nakasero had by far been the goriest battle of the week long bloody coup, he had lost quite a number of good men, Capt. Magooni to his right had lost his right arm but he was here today because he could not afford to miss the sentencing of the man who had humiliated him once too often.

The bustle and yells from the crowd shook him out of his reverie, the crowd was baying for blood, the rubble that had gathered in the parliament courtyard chanted ‘Ffe tuli mu kintu’ as they called for the old mans’ demise,  a woman who uncannily reminded him of Madame Defarge was shouting along with the crowd at the top of her voice, he focused his gaze back on the accused and surprisingly felt pity for the old man, not because he was about to send him to his death (he would gladly pull the trigger himself) but because of what was to become of the old man’s family, a secret decree issued last night had ordered for a crackdown on relatives and acquaintances, no stone was to be left unturned.

It was going to be long New Year.

 “I don’t believe that the big men, the politicians and the capitalists alone are guilty of the war. Oh, no, the little man is just as keen, otherwise the people of the world would have risen in revolt long ago! There is an urge and rage in people to destroy, to kill, to murder, and until all mankind, without exception, undergoes a great change, wars will be waged, everything that has been built up, cultivated and grown, will be destroyed and disfigured, after which mankind will have to begin all over again.”

Anne Frank
1929-1945, German Jewish Refugee, Diarist

Silent night, holy crap!

Here we go again………I don’t hate Christmas, please Oh! God no, don’t get me wrong, I simply loathe it.

The only reason you’d wish me a merry Christmas and send me a card is the same reason you’d greet me good morning, a perfunctory gesture that is as empty as it is careless, we have become conditioned to perform a set of mechanized rituals that are nothing more than reflex reactions to our environment.

Don’t take me for a bible totting evangelist hell bent on condemning every sinner to eternal doom, what I  am simply driving at is that it is abhorrent to use a holiday, any holiday as an excuse to give me a bonus when what I need is a raise, it is distasteful to invite me to your three storied mansion in Bunga and treat me to a sumptuous buffet complete with enough booze to sail a cruise liner when you know I live in a two roomed squalid muzigo in Kyengera. Christmas shouldn’t be a time to remind the world that you have such a healthy balance sheet you can afford to throw a few extra hundered thousands to your employees as a thank you gesture, I would be more content with a crystal ball that could tell me how soon I can have your job Mr. CEO, so I can throw an even bigger party when I build my mansion.

The carols have lost the magical appeal they had two decades ago, they sound like a college rival fraternity anthem that has been regurgitated so many times you wish you’d be allowed to tweak the verses a little and come up with a version that doesn’t make you want to drink yourself into a coma, no wonder some smart ass had to invent a Santa Claus myth to keep the kids hooked, otherwise their discerning minds would have no problem seeing through the charade we have come to know as Noël mass.

I don’t mind the commercialization of the holiday season though, all those attractive shopping discounts and offers are just a means to incite a frenzy and shopping mania which is my favorite part about capitalism – any excuse to make a quick buck is welcome be it a famine or a bloody war, who the hell cares, I mean if you had a few billion idiots willing to spend their last penny just to satisfy their thirst to belong and be one with the rest as they celebrate the birthday of some chap who died and reportedly rose 2000 years ago, wouldn’t you make money off of them? I know I would.

My brothers in the transport business know what I’m talking about, they know how to remind everyone that much as they may be going to the village to feast on roast birds and animals, there are people starving in Somalia, our learned conductors and touts double their fares but, hey what do you know? Folks still fork out the cash to go and eat their x-mas wherever they feel it is cooked best.

Hold on folks, my phones’ ringing.

“Hey peter what’s up?  ………..x-mas party?…… Where?………………no I think I’ll pass…………  sexy what?…………..strippers?……….you gotta be kidding me……what? ……lapdance? No shit?…………yep!……yep!……yep!…. I’ll be there in 10.

Gotta go people looks like there is something good about Christmas after all.

Dumb beauty queens and me.

A beauty pageant is supposed to showcase elegance, style and culture, suffice it to say the Miss Kyengera beauty pageant was lacking in all aspects save one which is unfortunately not one of the benchmarks, comedy.

Having never officiated as a judge in any capacity whatsoever be it an ant race, to say that my nervousness was bordering on hysteria would be putting it mildly. To begin with not all the contestants were in the house by the time the show kicked off, they started trickling in much later after the opening round which was ‘what would you wear on a date?’ was coming to an end, that alleviated my apprehension somewhat because my points roster swelled from 4 contestants to 10 Phew! Did I just say points roster? Well that’s something I made up on the spur of the moment, given that the organizer asked me to officiate an hour before the contest.

The points roster had columns that gave points out of ten in these areas- Smile, Catwalk, Costume, Confidence and Intelligence. The contest was spread out over six sessions which included the first one I just mentioned above followed by office wear, beach wear, creative wear, traditional wear and finally dinner attire.

As the contest dragged on four contestants caught my attention, there was Delphine a point five who had the allure of a persian princess she was neck on neck which a chick called Cossy whose dark chocolate skin sent your imagination wandering into forbidden territory and then there was Carla who was close to six foot and had a smile to die for, Carla could have easily won but there was something about the way she walked that just didn’t sit very well with me, the other possible winner was Britney who was pretty too but she was never going to win given my prejudice brought about by prior knowledge that she had a baby with a local bouncer.

So there I was preparing the easiest questions even a retard could answer in their sleep. Thinking things would be quick and easy I proudly announced the Q & A session and went ahead to ask my first question to Cossy which was, ‘What is the capital of USA?’ blink blink, subdued look, twisting of lips- and then the answer ‘Newyork’ my dumbfound looked told the story- it was going to be a long night. Next up was Delphine the halfcaste- Name one Indian investor we have in Uganda – This question was prompted by the fact that she was donning a sari, same confused look and then no answer, by this time the audience was screaming – ‘duh! Sudhir or Karim’ but she just didn’t get it. Enter Britney whose question was the simplest of the simplest – Who is Barack Obamas wife? She clinched it in a hurry and I then moved on to Carla who was supposed to let us know who the Katikiro of Buganda was, her answer was a confident Semwogerere. My jaw dropped.

After that the rest of the night remains a blur partly brought on by the dumb contestant’s answers and partly by the Club beer I was imbibing in copious amounts.

Normzo had vowed to put out a contract on me if I didn’t post this pronto and Jny promised all the pints in the world if I posted like yesterday so here we are.

Feast your eyes.  first up is Britney

Notice the flash of white at the epicenter
Delphine disappointed with the black shorts underneath
Cossy striking a pose
Cossy in traditional attireDelphine in a Sari
yours truly, representing.
The bloody waitress was taking her bloody time in keeping the Clubs flowing.
My preference for Dark skinned beauties is legendary but there are times when the allure of light skinned cream is too overpowering to ignore so Delphine won.

Not exactly how I had planned my comeback but what the heck! Lets Recap.

Got there at nine skipped out of the taxi and climbed the steep curb turn leading up to Mateos, I wore that facial expression that people usually put on when expecting to meet a distant relative or a long lost friend, you know the one that’s half way between a forced smile and feigned surprise.

Well that expression turned into utter bewilderment when my eyes scanned the entire  pavement seating area and finding no one closely resembling a blogger, several thoughts raced through my mind one of which was that I had  been away too long that the entire blogging fraternity had metamorphosed into a different species all together with altered DNA.

I was just about to turn and head back home when lo and behold his Majesty King of Rogue materialized right in front of me and promptly dispatched me to a table inside that had several emissaries standing around it, the estrogen kingdom ambassadors in the form of Darlyene, Helen, Doreen and Xiona were very much in attendance doing justice to colorful, attractive, futuristic cocktail drinks.

The beer swigging blokes that hung around the princesses of cocktailia were the towering Normzo and Jny who looked like they had just closed a multi billion dollar takeover of Google and were celebrating the success of months of hard sweat and toil, King and Street were deep in conversation when I walked in so I didn’t greet street till later, although when I did I made the blunder of reminding him of his screwed up laptop, what a way to ruin a guys night, it’s just like when you go out to get over this chick and spot one who looks just like her standing in the opposite corner of the room. I spoke to Rhino who apparently thought I write for the paper, I was like hell no, if I did I’d give all my assignments to my 15 year old kid brother while I played pool all day.

Darlyene was sweet, I was loading a kalukumi AT of UTL and she gave me this look the said ‘poor thing’ and reached into her bag for a 2000k AT which she handed over to me, and just to rub it in some more she said she had simply bought it to get change, I said it then and I’ll say it again, DEE for PRESIDENT.

Dear Blogren,  I hung around sipping my Club for about 45 minutes before saying my goodbyes.

Jny works less that 50 feet from our building so am gon hop over there and ask him for some help coz I seem to have forgotten how to upload a post.



How do I develop a six pack? That’s the question I just entered into the google search bar. In case you haven’t guessed already the endless beer nights and a job where you take the occasional stroll from your desk to the studio have taken their toll on my belly and turned it into a fat waste basket, all the fat that ends up on the belly must be undesired by the rest of the body coz it is just grosses me out.

I’m ashamed to look at Beckford Photos they only make you want to hide your head in the sand and hope the world could end in the next 2 seconds.

How is it that Africans look at a pot belly as a sign of prestige and wealth, a man without a belly feels as inept as a Kabaka without Ebyaffe, or street sider and Rhino without their lappies

I have declared a global war against all pot bellies and any man found with excess stomach fat is to be flogged publicly not less than 20 lashes with his own belt or suspenders, ofcourse now there is the small matter of determining exactly how much is excess, without any yard stick for separating the offenders from the respectful citizens a cop with a grudge against Jny might not hesitate to declare him in violation of the Carsozy code.

So here’s the penal code and since I didn’t study even one evening class of law school thereby being incapable of formulating a law I’ll let Muda polish up the statute, but this is the best I can do. 

 Any one who looks like this is off the hook, not you Sleek, lie down.Free to go

And any one who looks like this is well screwed.


So Whad I miss during my self imposed exile from blogmania? Ug girl how are you Lulu tells me you have posted about a juicy job, am off to read after which you can take me out to an on line restaurant.

Great week and stay fit.

………………………..for godsake Apr didn’t you listen to a word I just said, stay off the chocolate bars, put it down on the floor gently, with your left hand, now kick it to me.

Braveheart Vs Troy

Looks like the enemy has reached our shores and is steadily marching towards my castle, the look out scouts have reliably informed me that our troops are outnumbered 3 to 1, with such superior numbers against us, my army however vastly experienced wont be able to hold the enemy back for more that five days, I could barricade the entire population behind the city walls and hope to tire out the invader by forcing him to engage in a long and exhausting siege of the city but that would be inviting an even more debilitating foe, Hunger and his step cousin Disease. So here’s what I’m gonna do, am gon  take on the enemy head on in a battle that will determine the future of my people and the honour of my race, let everyman remember that the blogckers can take our lives but they can never take our freedom….CHARGE……………

Okay I xeroxed the last line from Braveheart and tweaked it to fit into my post, what else would you rather have me do?, desperate times call for desperate measures, I can see the enemy approaching in the distance the dust raised by his galloping horses forms a huge brown cloud that hangs over the horizon like the very angel of death.


I slithered out of BHH like a serpent that’s been frightened by an even more menacing predator, only Normzo saw me leave coz I bid him farewell and looked for the nearest taxi, Lulu was bunched together with other Bloggers whom I really cant recall, they were engrossed in a conversation on some topic that seemed so interesting to the entire bunch I really didn’t want to intrude just to say aurevoir, so I let them be, besides most had already hugged me goodbye, before I forget there was this female who sat for a while on Dee’s and Dante’s and Carlo’s table, I admit I didn’t introduce myself but every time I tried to talk to Carlo she looked at me like I was this intruder trying to gatecrash a private party, I made a mental note of asking her who she was but then somebody else caught my attention, it musta been B2B, sup dude?

Next day was a Friday and I just couldn’t be bothered with work, I dressed in jeans and sandals and just went through the motions like a robot, I couldn’t tell you what happened at work that day even if you held a gun to my head, although I do remember what happened after 9:00 pm when I jumped onto that taxi to Kyengera, I didn’t bother with the shower, it was first to rolex then to pub, I was looking forward to meeting the hot bartender who had entered her number into my phone the previous weekend, time check 10:30pm and I slide into the joint leaving a lingering scent of my AXE spray in my wake, she wasn’t there, the owner who took her place behind the counter told me she was in villa burying her dead sister. (As I type this I make a mental note, I need to call her and give my condolences, like hell I will, am not very good with recalling mental notes.)

So the night drags on as we pump the D-Jay so full of Guinness just so we can impose on him our requests for one oldie after another, we danced to lots of golden Jams from washed up and wasted artists like Bobby brown, Alpha ville, Chaka Khan, Milli Vanilli, Kylie Minnogue ,Kenny Thomath actually it’s Thomas but by this time my speech was slurred by the alarming rate at which I was making the contents of Club bottles disappear into my alimentary canal.  Its 2 fuckin 30 am and the bar has emptied out looks like it’s just us and the DJ so I make one request for the road- ‘Silent morning’- the lousy Schmuck hasn’t got it so I cancel his next round of Guinness and stagger to my bed which luckily for me is 200 meters away.


The sound of clashing steel fills the air and merges with the deafening roar of war cries, the ground beneath my feet is thick with the blood of dead warriors, blood of vanquished foes and fallen comrades spilled in a battle that still rages on all around me, the smell of the blood fills my nostrils, I pause for a second to loosen my helmet desperately seeking for some relief from the suffocating scent of human blood, this is one moment of weakness that nearly costs me my life, as I pull up the visor, from the corner of my eye I see a shape coming down at me with alarming velocity, I blindly parry the blow with my shield which is instantly knocked out of my grasp, I’m defenseless, will I live to tell Ug girl my war tales? I hold my sword with both hands and watch as the Blogcker raises his axe for a second blow, I stand still and watch the axe come down again, ‘Your Grace’ I hear the Duke of Sleek scream a warning but still I stand motionless, then at the last second I go down on one knee using it as a fulcrum to rotate and turn my back to the Blogcker, in the same movement I thrust my sword in a backward blow over my head impaling the bastard……………………….


Saturday was payback day, the beers have done serious damage to my ulcers and I painfully reach for my stack of Omeprazole tabs, I hurriedly swallow one as I speed dial the Katogo shack…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

………………………………………………………..1 hour later I am all set for some homeplex action, in goes Public enemies and I lean back expecting the very best from Depp and Bale, well I could have been better off waiting for hell to freeze over coz the brothers sucked, UMEME promptly put me out of my misery after 1 hour of torture. Later that night Dreamgirls was my only reprieve so I slipped it in to see what I had missed, well not much but I’ll tell you one thing Hudson was born to sing.

Sunday was a blast, why I had put off Entourage for this long is just fuckin insane. Ari Gold is like the most fuckingly, amazingly, annoyingly punk headed wiseass on the globe. Any one got discs season 2-4?


The Blogckers have broken their ranks and are heading for the hills, I let off a loud shout and give the command for my army to give pursuit………………..but not before calling for the Knights of the scrolls to rescue Erique and Antipop at all costs.


 Fab week.