It's a new dawn, an age of consent, and as we blindly tout the Kenya Vision 2030 as the beacon of the nation's future, it's only befitting that we liberate men's 20/20 vision; enter the much-maligned marching orders set to be issued on Koinange Street.
Yet instead of getting caught up in political euphemisms and conversational ulcers on the increasing extravagance of pure BS this regime has achieved only too effortlessly, and with an inspired regularity, we should really mellow in the vast array of opportunity this overglorified statement of the obvious presents. After all, the art of making hard men humble has long been an accepted norm in our remarkably misogynistic society.
Aspiring pilots are told to pursue Geography and have a good understanding of Trigonometry; which brings me to my first proposal. A doll. We should kick the debate up a notch and introduce preteen females to Barbie dolls with plastic torsos scaled to the proportions of a 5 foot 4, 60-kg stripper in her mid-twenties dressed in nothing but crotchless panties, her chesticles hanging precariously on bare string. The toys are to be dubbed Easy Virtue™, or maybe Solicity™; jury's still out on that one. Since turning tricks has no room for sincere feelings, the dolls would be expressly intended to cultivate from a tender age the sense of traumatic stress, social stigma, substance and sexual abuse, atrophy and secrecy that such a career option will demand of them when legislated.
Next is a course that would do the next breed of negotiable affections a whole world of good; Putting Out 101. A good degree of agreeable conversation goes into the sealing of any beddable deal, and any budding night wife will need to develop an adequate lingo, with a basic knowledge of marketing no-nos. This will require recruitment of seasoned hookers into trainers, or better yet university professors in Laynguistics, Herganomics and Analytics. They could additionally act as consultants on Consumer Watch, giving the citizens a breakdown of going rates and best deals...sorta like the Nakumatt vs Naivas version of the Red Light District.
A regular night for many a woman of transactional affections entails a frank and open exchange of blows, mostly with the woman acting as a connector to their clients' fists. Enter Smack 101, an endurance course to be very likely designed by a bitter sadistic ex-KDF service man recently back from Dadaab. Rumour has it that the quest to beat the aspiring pros into sturdy submission will be turned into a Reality TV show after a preliminary experiment on one Bob Alai achieved impressive results. The show, something along the lines of The Real Street Wives of Koinange, will be hosted by an equally irritating Whoabert Nuhgila. Of course the exercise will also include a refresher licence on how to drug, rob and exit stage left in no seconds flat.
Finally, a website will soon be up, sponsored by the Mayor of Nairobi, where clients leave their teste monials, and pimps can announce any job f@£kancies...
Wanted
Are you hot enough to melt the polar ice caps? Do you have an insatiably high libido? Then look no further...we have just the job for you.
Requirements
Preferrably achieved grade D cup (o) (o)Open to more than one job "position"...Good communication skills with rubbers
Persons with more than 2 years experience NEED NOT APPLY.
* Overdeveloped Gag reflex will be a disadvantage
All this development would however lack meaning without an accompanying monument, to which end the Mayor will set aside some hard earned taxpayers' money to erect some of Jeff Koons' Neo Pop art on K-Street...
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| Puts a whole new meaning to men hard at work. |
Picture originally at The Guardian.co.uk
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