the couch

The things we do for love! October 9, 2007

Posted by modoathii in Uncategorized.
35 comments

Most of the things people do for love are usually kinda unbelievable, ridiculous, humiliating but rarely painful. But when dealing with one character, anything is possible, and most probably it will be painful.

We are talking about Marto.

Dude always has interesting luck. The luck of a toilet fly having gladly discovered a generous amount of s**t, only for it to be flushed away. (for luck of a better example)

1. The writing is in the brain.

The year is kitambo. The place is primo. The class is six. The teacher is at the front writing the lesson’s notes on the blackboard. The chick is sitting next to Marto. And Marto, well, is bugging her.

This is primary school, so you have to remember that ‘bugging’ a chick really meant you ‘loved’ that chick. The more you ‘bugged’ her the more you liked her.

Of course, as usual, this girl matured way before this boy (Marto is still struggling to mature) so her ‘interpretation’ skills changed. To her bugging is plain bugging. Not love. If it were last month, she would have felt the love, but she matured this month and she was now feeling bugged bugged.

Marto, like most guys, didn’t get (or show any intention of getting) an A in reading signs. So him he continues to share his love with this fly chick seated next to him. His deski. Despite the many attempts the chick is making to lenga him.

Ten minutes of ‘loving’, however becomes too much for our chiley. And since she’s mature enough, she doesn’t need any teacher’s assistance. She’s a lady and can take care of herself.

Oh and she did.

She reciprocates her ‘love’ by grabbing her newly sharpened Staedtler pencil and politely (with great force) shoving it, rather drilling it, into Marto’s head.

SCREAMS!

Teacher turns to find Marto with a pencil in his head. Used to Marto the teacher is cool,

“Martin, when I said put away your pencils, I didn’t say you could put yours there.”

Well, the teacher grasped the urgency of the situation when Marto didn’t laugh back. He usually laughs. He was rushed to the sanatorium in good time and unleashed for first aid.

Marto survived, and this moment in history was ‘penciled’ in his brain…plus, he never tried to show that much love again.

2. Itching for love!

The time; one evening many years later after the pencil ordeal.

The place; outside a chiley’s house.

The task; darting this fine squeeze.

(the exact conversation was left out because we discovered that being the only bean in someone’s githeri may not be very digestible in this day and age)

So Marto is over there at the gate of this gorgeous girl’s house. I must say lyrics were flowing. Darts were being unleashed in a way that would have made those guys who played the Tusker Festival of Darts very proud…

“Martin you require…”

Anyway, so yeah, lyrics were flowing. Yaani mpaka the chick had drawn a detailed map of Africa in the dirt.

Clarification.

The scene is actually set in Limuru, hence the dirt. And what happened to chileys drawing maps…I blame the lack of proper geography lessons. (ok, we also lost our mad skills)

If Marto had looked he would have finally seen where Guinea Bissau is located. But his eyes were fixated on the girl’s sweet round face. Once in a very frequent while the eyes would slide down her smooth curvaceous body, ‘speed bumping’ in the chest area. He would have looked into her eyes but she was feeling ‘shame on me’ coz of the sweet vibe she was getting so was looking away.

But like they say every good thing comes to an end.

“HAIYA! FATHE!”

The chick’s dad came home early that day. And he wasn’t in a happy mood. His drinking plan must have been katisiwad. The local Mwendas was closed. Anyway, whether he was in a good mood or not, there is no way you are ‘lyricing’ his daughter. Kwanza by Marto. Never. He’s not only afraid his ‘precious’ will be deflowered (too late) but he’s worried of the devaluation. Instead of the 100 heads of cattle as dowry she can attract, it would be like ten goats and a bonus of 20 chickens. After Marto is done with her.

Marto was a definite no-no!

So he had no time to run, plus the only exit was huko where the dad was coming from. He quickly and stealthily jumped into the bush nearby.

MISTAKE!

One word. (Unfortunately, I only know the Kikuyu name for it)

Dhafai!

(Dhafai is some plant with pumpkin-like leaves that cause a nasty itch when touched. I think it’s the stinging nettle.)

Marto had jumped head first into a bush of dhafai (stinging nettles). Two seconds later he was jumping out.

AAAAARGH!

He almost knocked chiley’s daddy down. And chiley’s daddy himself was so terrified he unleashed the only two karate stances he knew and the wildest battle cry he could muster.

AIYAAAAAAH!

In a flash, Marto had disappeared. Only stopping after a 500-metre sprint to scratch himself raw.

Poor Marto.

3. When darts meet arrows!

Yaani, by now Marto was wishing these were the good ol’ days. The days when guys just waited for chicks to go to the river and they would abscond with the flyest….and lightest.

Place; Limuru bado.

Exactly where; at the gate of ana’a chiley. (this was many months later…Marto sio playa)

Time; not the good ol’ days.

Marto had been seeing this chick for a while now. Three weeks, that’s quite a while.

Anyway, this chick’s digs is on the other ridge and getting to her place is a saga in itself. Hills, grasslands, fences, dogs, and when you get there, you have to deal with brothers. And of cos the father.

This time however, no bush or karate 101….

It was a fine Sato morning, around 11, and I was taking Marto to visit the ipod of his eye..(bana we are moving with the times, ‘apple’ is so old skool, na since Apple make macs, iphones and…). I hate taking guys to see their chicks, coz I usually end up zoobing and counting grass blades. But this day I was bored and I’d rather count blades, plus, you never know labda ako na sister…

We had successfully conquered the hills, fyekad through the grasslands, jumped fences, fed the dogs with dust as we ran…so now we just had to deal with the bros and the fathe.

We were just entering the gate when…

WHOOOOSH!

Eish. We looked at each other. What was that?

WHOOOOOSH!

Enyewe, I had joked that I can dodge bullets, but these weren’t bullets.

“NYINYI!”

We looked up to see the fathe, gesturing angrily at us. In his hand was…boss, a bow. On his shoulder, a quiver full of rusted arrows. Once again it seemed that Marto’s reputation had preceded him.

ZOOOM!

We were away!

Back the same way we came. Dogs, fences, grassland, hills, etc only faster. For half the way, the fathe was unleashing arrows at us. Luckily you can’t shoot straight from a bow while running. Yaani, one fathe had jifanyad Jackie Chan, this one now was Robin Hood. And he wasn’t robbing no rich folk.

Needless to say, that ka relationship didn’t last.

The things we go through for love! Rather, the things Marto went through for love.

My random eight…coz she forced me to… July 20, 2007

Posted by modoathii in Uncategorized.
38 comments

Who she be? Gishungwa. The sweet orange. I was politely minding my business when BAM! “I have tagged you…check my blog for details” and indeed on her blog were the details and instructions, and here they are….

The Rules are:-
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
So I had to sit my arse down and think of eight random things about me…things I think I haven’t already mentioned.Now that we have that out of the way…here are my random eight…

4. I never forget birthdays, but I DO forget to carry presents/cards.

I have never understood this. Yaani I will remember your birthday lakini when invited to come for the party ama when coming to see you, I forget to carry a present or even a card. It’s my cuzo who always reminds me. Like I always jitetea…it’s the thought that counts.

7. I own three combs.

Don’t ask why, yet I never use them, even when Ididn’t have dreads. So it’s also no surprise when I tell you I own no mirrors. The one I have belongs to another miscellaneous mama who left it there…she felt woiye for me. But najua vile ninakaa so sio lazima nijione…shauri yako kama niko na alama ya white kwa face.

1. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, fazes me…

I mean this is life we live in. And we know that life throws us anything and everything, so why not be real about it? Every time I wake up I expect anything and everything from anyone and everyone. Hope for the best expect the worst. And when I encounter it I deal with it…sio ati nianze kuworry…sijui ‘why me?, o-oo, why now?’. Ziiii. Those are BOGOF ulcers waiting to happen. You meet thugs, if you can’t hepa them, give them everything and walk away smiling (na ukidedishwa…umededi…what more is there to worry about?). It’s over it’s happened. Move on. And that’s why I’m always a happy child…if I don’t encounter an obstacle in 5 seconds, I’ll smile about it. Like aegeus said on his post…STRESSED spelt backwards is DESSERTS… I approach problems from the back…ambush them. Don’t let them ambush you…And yeah, there’s a gospel song that says (can’t quite remember verbatim) but the general message is kama kuna problem..kuna solution. LAZIMA!

6. I’m a messy guy…

Wait, that may have come out wrong. I am a messy guy…that’s better, but it’s organised mess. Just like organised crime…here is organised mess. Why lie? Initially things will be neat but if something becomes askew, it will stay that way….lakini despite the mess I know where everything is even in that mess. Zima lights I will remove that bra, you lost last night (aside…sio ati na lalanga na wanawake saaaaana…kidogo tu). Dare you mess, in this case, clean up, my mess…My mess is neat leave it that way. I’ll take care of it. I made it, I’ll fix it.

3. I don’t have a price.

So I believe and so I try to keep it that way. You know how you say, ruka ndani ya hii maji nikupe ngiri…NEVER! I have my integrity. I will not compromise it by doing silly stunts for money..I would rather you walk around saying about me…“there goes dooaz, nifala, kamekata kufua nguo zangu nimpe ten G“ than ati “ndio yule dooaz, he such a low guy, yaani he kubalid to wash my clothes for ten G…si i told you every man has his price.“ Not dooaz. Or Modo, for that matter. If you want me to wash your clothes, just ask…if I can, I’ll do it, don’t carrot-dangle it. I don’t need money thaaaaaat much. I operate on a ‘I have money what can i do’ basis than a ‘I need to do this so I need money’.

8. Therefore…I have simple dreams.

If Ihave any at all. Classic example, y’all know the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip? There was one where Calvin asks Hobbes what he wishes for. Hobbes simply says “a sandwich”. Calvin goes ballistic. He zushas, ati Hobbes should wish for super powers, world domination…no parents, no school and shit loads of stuff. In the last frame, we see Calvin gloomily eating a sandwich and a very happy Hobbes saying…”my wish came true”. I’m Hobbes, simple dreams…complete happiness! I mean, my dream car is a Landie!

5. I try never to keep anyone waiting…

Most of the time I’m always on time…the guy from Around the World in 80 Days is my hero…ever since kitambo..was’is name…Phileas Fogg. He was always on time for anything. If I’ll be late I’ll let you know early. If I’m late just know there is someone involved. Was waiting for foundashen to be applied. So I hope for the same courtesy (and expect the worst) hence a backup plan…usipokuja I’m so away)

2. I hate short hair…
Interesting enough, sio ati I like/love dreads either. The reason I put them was ‘coz I was tired of my own hair. Have plaited, blow dried, combed, not combed…everything you could ever do with hair except cut it of course and karanga it. So the reason I still have my dreads is ‘coz I’d have to shave, meaning a month or two of terribly short hair…NO THANKS!

bonus…

I LOVE SUDOKU (and eating)!

…and other brain challenging stuff. No wonder I love problems. It’s my chance to be creative in how I deal with them. As for the eating bit…I’ll eat anything so long as it’s edible (except pumpkin). So I don’t fear trying new stuff. Foodwise or otherwise.

Now that that is painfully out of the way…I need to tag somebarre. Eight sambarres. Hamna bahati…

one, Bantu…and in english please.
two, Bomseh…say something, eight somethings.
three, Jade…you kitten, a-meow-se us
four, k.i.p.u.s.a…e.i.g.h.t p.l.e.a.s.e
five, boyflani…tupe vitu nane flani
six, ichiena…itch away at some (at least you’ll update ur blog)
seven, wanja…stop your search for a guy and sema vitu nane
and finally
eight, phassie…don’t go too ati phaaaa….

Who am I…the deadly seven May 14, 2007

Posted by modoathii in Uncategorized.
24 comments

Kwanza kuna vile nilingachanikiwa kuona nimetagiwa…now what the? Methu the sellah, wewe! Nimekuwekea Unwanted Ati sasa ni lazima ni unleash mavitu saba za me? Wacha nijaribu. Of course, top on many guys lists is what’s my name? And what do I look like? Poleni. Mimi ni mimi. I’m a simple dude. And here are my deadly seven…

1: “Who are you?”

No one knows me, yet everyone thinks they do. First I have a million and one names, and I’ve once heard two guys discussing the same person without knowing it’s the same person. And I’m always ROTFLMAO! And I never tell them. Modoathii, is the wild and crazy me, he’ll do anything and everything you don’t expect. Fearless and daring. When called by my other ‘certain name’, you get the easy, relaxed me. He wears jeans and hangs out a lot. Has fun, laughs a lot and takes nothing seriously. Call me by my “Official name” you get a total stranger. It’s the official me. He’ll be found in meetings, court rooms and police stations. Is too serious for life. He never goes anywhere. Never takes chances. Usually if you know “official name” first, you’ll only know him for a few very short minutes then “certain name” will fight his way and take over…and that’s the real me. He’s the six below…and more…

2: “Modoathii yuko wapi?”

That’s me. Master Dodger of the limelight! There’s nothing I hate more than being the ‘master piece’. Anything that will make me stick out like a stray dog’s willies I will try and avoid (like this post). During a harambee, never make the mistake of making me a master of ceremony, I won’t show up. And if I do come I’ll conveniently slip away just before you call me. Wedding na funeral sijui nitafanya. In a crowd of more than two humans, I’m the quiet one. Usually sitting there wrongly misleading everyone into thinking I’m a quiet good boy (which I am, anyway) until we are just the two of us. I’ll sit back and study the group, just want to confirm what kind of madness they subscribe to…So it’s no wonder I can fit in any crowd. Snobbish, nitakua. Marowdy, nitakua. Maholy, nitakua. Mabhangi…nikose?

3. “Don’t ask me how you look in that!”

I’m the most honest idiot around. I think I am. In fact thanks to my honesty I have lost many a girlfriend. Never ask me for an honest opinion. You will get it. And it comes out in such a matter of fact way that you think me outright uncaring. I don’t like lying, though I love exercising my creativity by telling half-truths. Catch me with my pants down though and you have the truth, unedited, flowing like tuskers.

4. “Sawa, I’ll do it!”

If you hear this statement after I have shown resistance to your request, just know it won’t be done. Or it will be done, eventually…even if it’s a month later. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a very helpful guy. I go out of my way to help others more than myself. All you have to do is ask nicely. Don’t come demanding it be done. And if it’s unreasonable, I’ll show resistance to do it, and if you insist, nitasema tu “sawa” ndio uniondokee, lakini jua tu, haifanywi.

5. “Twende!”

That’s my reaction to every and any plot. Modoathii twende carni? Twende! Modoathii twende UG? Twende. In this case, Modo tuhepe job (says the zungz)? Twende! So long as the plot has ‘raha’ written all over it, ‘modoathii’ will be all over it. I never care who is going, what the plot is…hizo tutajulia mbele. Guys know. I’m usually on plot lists even without being asked. In future, I foresee trouble when a mama comes into the picture. Itabidi ajipange. I’m too much of a free spirit.

6. “Sipigi!”

I’m a jeans and tee-shirt kind of guy. Reason sipendi kupiga pasi. But once in a rare while I’ll reluctantly turn on the iron and I’ll be seen in a shirt. But never f**ked in. My ideal jeans, torn or dirty, whichever comes first. And faded. Naturally faded. Hakuna ati designer Fulani kule okoi anapitisha Jik, du.. I don’t like crispy new clothes. I hate smelling like a shop. Usitake kuona what I used to do when I was in primo. Sina time ya urembo mob. Shower, wear cleanest shirt, wear pararad jeano, chapa marashi ya undercover (not the prominent), chapa open ama simple njums and bounce away…five minutes dressing…max.

7. “You worry!”

My favourite and famous line. Why do guys worry about other people? Why do people worry about their problems? Why worry? Every problem has a solution, every! So instead of worrying about how broke you are, move on. Two days later you’ll still be broke. Fifteen days later you’ll be paid. So why worry? Instead of worrying for 17 days about kusota, move on. Just know somehow you will get by, don’t worry how, and just get by. It’s also my favourite line when guys are hassling me about my business, which is none of theirs.

Bonus…

“It’s morning!”
This is my happiest moment. It explains why I’m always the happy child everyday and everywhere I go. I woke up, that’s the best news I could get any day. People always ask me why I’m always happy, my answer, “I woke up.” What more could one ask? Na sio ati naogopa kifo…ishna! Ikikuja ije…you worry!

Bottom line, I’m a simple yet complex guy who goofs a lot, always keeps his word, loves to do things differently (I’m a creative unataka ni-do?), cares less, worries zero, fears only hurting others, is scaringly (sic) honest, who enjoys life to the fullest, loves lurking in the shadows and will over 90% of the time have a smile on his face. Which brings me to my picture…

I can’t post my face. Reason being, this isn’t Modoathii. Modoathii haonekanangi. Hana sura.

Who do I tag who hasn’t been tagged? Nusu Mbili, Bantutu , Wanja Shoodren, Mocha, and so on and so forth…William Tell where are you…drat, TAGGED!