How many licks does it take till you get to the centre of the O?
The Art of Seduction in a world choke-fulla hubris and self driven folk geared - by self or other - towards a distinction of themselves from others based on what triggers their likes and dislikes, fannies and dicks, offense and defense, is slowly petering out into all out warfare between the sexes.
I say slowly, because fortunately, this itsy bitsy denudation and lack thereof bullshit has yet to hit your rural areas in full force. Sure, there are isolated sexists gallivanting about, usually driven by political machineries they barely understand, but most certainly will in the end. And before you agree, that means you, sexy lady making a buck stepping on everything in your path with balls, as much as it does the loud motherfucker whistling at your phat ass from across the road in his hooptie.
The beauty of living in what is now referred generically as the Female Genital Mutilation headquarters of the world, is that you slowly come to realize how distinct and varied our valued belief systems really were. And how there is more to culture than traditions long since obliviated by good sense.
You see men and women, boys II girls, all working together, tagging war and exchanging ideas, laughter, and most importantly, domestic responsibility.
Lemme see that thong?
See it's all push and pull, shove and plunge, give and take, in this big thing we call life. Why anybody buys into the bullshit that institutionalized the very fundaments it seems to fight profit from is beyond me. If you give it a name, then it's already won... What are you good for?
Do you wanna get funky with me?
Religious bellies belief has bred the disbelief that belies humanity. Sit down, nun-yuh-Father's business. Religion isn't just about your sects and cults. It is a way of life that is just as soon replicated, for better or worse.
Capitalism against Socialism, Marx against America, Einstein escaping Germany, Ubuntu against Ukabila, and yes: Islam against Christianity, Catholic against everything, Protestant against good sense, and every church against Kiuna, Ng'ang'a et al.
We simply get pissed when some smart ass-wipe has the audacity to learn the ideals we call our own and make better money, dick or good pussy than we ever could doing it 💰😉😂🐱
I don't want no scrubs, a scrub issa guy that can't get no love from me.
The late great Hip-hop god of the golden coming of age of Kenyan music says: moss, moss, polepole, haraka haraka haina baraka. He was a buccaneer at a time when it was not entirely popular to be Muslim in Kenya. He died young and fast, and that is how we like our poets and artists. Dead and gone into the K-ruptions of our loves and memories. E-sir real con, and a broken drum fool of conundrum, making art to reflect social more where none lives.
Don't get mad: get even.
Kirk Franklin is the diva of the Afro Gospel scene, as is Mr Madea on the Afro American screens. So what if you don't like what they offer? Get up, struggle like they have, understand the basics of the systems they stride across, then bring us your high quality shite for mass production.
If Gengetone is a representative of society, who says slapstick isn't? Does it have to both be proper to your swaying sensibilities and sweet to your popularity for it to count as good, not great?
Who taught Kenyans to run so amok on our own standards that we are happy to choke each other for breakfast 🥐 art café lattes? Ya leo ni leo, yalondwele sipite; accept, move the fuck on. Get even as fast as you can, coz daily bread and kids and and and...
(Puff Puff ) Pass the (couversier/Dutchie pon di left hand side #Alloftheaboveandthensomecockandtail
Let go of each other, watch from the sidelines as life batters us all to pulps, then whine that peepū have changed, become addicts, need divine ass from distance sistances, who look you askance talking bout cancerous AIDS and disoders, for men are dogs.
Slap some money on the problem, make it less shameful to us, and keep it away, fattening and drooling so we can have some peace in our spaces of comfort, in the zone.
You reap what you sow, dear heifers and cock-and-bulls. So bathe in it and wade through the chaotic murk that we allow to fester every day. Challenge me to a dogfight, however, and know only this much: I play for the long run in a long game. Marathon your way on, sprint the fuck outta dodge, I'ma just walk at my own pace, and rhythmically rhyming balance, to my chosen destination.
Fortunately, you have the same options I did:
Death after decay.
Or decay after death?
It's driving me outta my mind ...never trust a big butt and a smile.
If I were you I'd take precaution.
Scheme as we may, and we will have to, the endgame is simple: do I play evil for good, or become evil for good? Choosing a side means learning to be fit at the art of surviving the seduction of pretense.
Be who you are, or nothing at all. Honest dicks and rude bitches get along swimmingly; it's your eye candy and holy Joe you've gotta watch out for. I'd much sooner vote for a Sonko in this day and age than I would a Bensouda.
A bad mummajumma with an attitude will 9 times outta 10 ride or die with you, if you suit her fancy as much as she suits yours. In life, love, and affairs of the mind, body, soul and beershara.
Conclusions?
Can't outrun Freddie when his Jason's going nowhere. So, towards that effect...
Vacancy: now hiring Call Girl. Duties inclusive but not entirely limited to answering short calls, coz a nigga fucking tired of y'all; sounding like a pornstar, coz a nigga still wants to give you a raising rise; and miscellaneous, coz a nigga might wanna be buried next to someone, and she might as well do. And of course, she will make you feel honoured to sell me your soul, so sweet and patient and payable she is.
Ciao for now.
Do as I say, nut as I do 😉
Why? Butt I cunt?
Footnote: Satire? Who gives a flying fuck? Coz enyewe butt me I cunt with entrées!
Bye for real 😂🐱😬🙏
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