My case wasn’t helped by the fact that when I was introd to their class my greeting response was a slight inclination of my head in form of a nod. Also, I was blasting 90s music from my (BRAND NEW) Sennheisers.

At this point, some of you may or may may not be wondering what I was doing in a high school on Monday. Well, I’m a mentor, and for some reason, the university wanted us to go to a couple high schools in the area (which just translated to all public high schools in Cairns region) and talk to them about university life and my experience in Oz so far as a foreigner. The things I do for this university…*smh* No, Pervy Perv, I have no paedo tendencies.

Now, I must say that I’m rather well acquainted with most, if not all, of the highly trained co-writers of this blog, and due to our combined mentality, or lack thereof, I decided to give that statement some thought. Am I really anti-social?

Geek, I am, no question there. Nerd…probably, though I really don’t think I read thaaaaaaaat much. Anti-social? Hell no. If I’d be anti-social, I’d end up being like Lisbeth.

Granted, socialising, like patience really isn’t my strongest suit, so I needed to come up with a compromise: selectively social.

I’m very picky with the kind of people I choose to associate with. They have to be geeks and/or nerds, be amusing and greatly lack in the sanity department. The fact that I’m esteemed enough to be a writer of this blog proves as much. I don’t like socialites; those people that know everyone and everyone knows them? I also don’t like people who are really, really good at socialising with everyone, because it makes me look anti-social, which I’m not.

My friends, in both spheres of the world, are an acquired taste. They are just the best bunch of people I’ve had the misfortune of meeting, and because we’re all socially selective geeks with a taste for the revoltingly disgusting (Pervy Perv in Kenya and Francis in Australia), we meet new people through each other. Going out and looking for new friends means socialising in the orthodox way, and I suck at that.

Even when we go out we dress in jeans and chucks. Our topics of conversation consist of who has the best rigs, how much they cost and which graphics cards are better,NVIDIA, Intel or Asus. Also, there’s the recent most disgustingly revolting thing Pervy Perv or Francis, depending on which part of the world I am in at the moment, has discovered on the interwebs.

All this considered, I promptly informed aforementioned brat that I’m not anti-social, I’m just selectively social. The deadpan tone in my voice, which she probably didn’t notice, heavily implied that there was no way in the deepest darkest, recesses of hell that I was ever going to apply my seriously lacking socialising skills on her. If, by some freaky chance, we would be compatible in terms of friendship, she’d never have uttered that statement.

Also, being selectively social is cool, bcause it deviates from the norm and embraces insanity. After all, sanity is overrated.

I’ll leave now.

That should be all I’m allowed to write. After all the mocking and ridicule that the series has suffered, the best criticism being found here, I finally decided against all common sense to read it.

And yes, 40pages in, it’s starting to look as terrible as advertised.

Then why am I putting myself through this dribbling mess of a book? Terrible things are entertaining as all hell!

That’s the reason why I enjoy watching the old, low budget production Kung Fu movies. With their awful, terrible, just plain bad English dubbing, acting stiffer than Mandingo, their overly-stylized martial arts that would only be at home in a gymnastics showcase and with enough plot holes in the story to use it to sieve my tea, it defines bad cinema. Two wrongs don’t make a right but the combination of all these wrongs lift up the terrible to the amazing.

If you don’t know about the BasedGod, good luck becoming a master chef. Lil B is a visionary, a talent so ahead of his time that it’ll be decades before we come even close to understanding his lyrical genius. For now, all we can see him as is a living parody of modern hip hop. Lil B has not been able to grasp the concept that rhyming actually entails rhyming. He never keeps to the beat and all his rapping is nonsensical at best. According to him “Hoes on my dick cause I look like Jesus,… Niggas getting mad cause I dress like Jesus Christ…”

He’s also Ellen DeGeneres, Willy Wonka, Mel Gibson and Charlie Sheen, all of these metaphors coz of the fact bitches and hoes be on his dick son! If ever a man deserved to be termed a coon, it’s this guy! And yet, why do I run to check out every new video he puts out? Why am I practicing my cooking skills out on the streets? All this shit storm of awful and I still can’t help but add to his Youtube hits. This can only mean one thing. Lil B is…

I’ll even watch awful things that I swear up and down the block are beneath me! And Korean drama fits this category perfectly. It’s melodramatic beyond belief. Characters are motivated by such childish impulses that even man-kid me calls bullshit. And convoluted stories of romance are a staple of this genre. It’s the exact kind of thing that will have girls breaking down into gooey messes of girliness, the kind of world guys always feel uncomfortable in. And yet, I continue downloading episodes, with my usual excuse being I was asked to. But what’s my excuse for actually watching kdrama like this

Filled with dudes that are actually pretty! (shudders), these don’t even have the blessing of busty latinas that Spanish soaps bring. But it’s just sooo much fun railing all episode long at the Asian absurdity of it all. It’s the antithesis of what I consider entertainment but I’ll still watch it if only to have fodder to accuse my female friends of femininity. It’s amusing trashing their favorite kdrama series and seeing the outrage. All my excuses, and all it boils down to is enjoy watching girly asian drama. *sigh* I don’t think I’m ever getting back my man card.

You know the times you get so frustrated that you want to bitch or scream but all that comes out of your mouth is “GAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” ?

I swear! I feel like I’m in a stuffy relationship with the people I subscribe to. Like y’all are awesome enough to know that if I was bored mindlessly in some dull class I wouldn’t mind reading the stuff that spews from your mind… HOWEVER every single time I do that I’m suggested to an INCESSANT flurry of random thoughts sent to my phone or a “OMG I saw this its so cool” photo link (which I obviously CANNOT see!) every time you get even mildly amused. If you cannot relate to the misery that accompanies a Twitter addict’s acquisition of a Ka-freaking-Bambe then PRAISE YOUR LORD!

I mean seriously thats what happens, especially with the widespread popularity of Whatsapp (the poor man’s BBM) in Nairobi and its immediate environs…. (I mean I had a CAB GUY on Whatsapp. Not that theres nothing wrong with cab guys but can you imagine how awesome that was? Till it wasn’t fair.) The thing got so out of hand that it became mandatory that every time any imbecile with a smart phone would step into the kitchen and make a meal that closely resembles:

And then some daft caption like:

Whoops. Look what happened! LOL

And for me (before my forceful ejection from the World Of WhatsApp (or W.O.W.A for short) having absolutely NADA to do except glue my phone to my phone, will respond almost immediately with:

LOL! #EpicFail

and then we’ll LOL and be BFF’s and soon send each other photos of what were wearing and discuss the ease and/or difficulty of our bowel movements….

Now imagine all that, ALL DAY, ALL NIGHT, and its more that one person… some are of the opposite sex. Ladies, you get updated EVERY SINGLE TIME he talks about his genitalia… Fellas, its the same thing.

                              Johnny! La gente esta MUY loca! WHAT THE FUCK!

Its not like before where youd be offline and miss the “GOD I’m hungry!” tweets and get only the gems… everything…..everything!!!!!

MORAL OF THE STORY: TAKE CARE OF YOUR INTERNET ENABLED PHONE!

Let’s start at the beginning. Aggrey, my fellow blogger on this cyber cesspit of tepid minds is (as you may have gathered from his other posts) not quite normal as you may expect an average stranger to be.
I’m of course referring to his high threshold for the gross and the weird. He’s the only person I know who carries around a copy of 2 girls and a cup on his mobile phone and his maintained composure while watching The Pain Olympics was to be envied (the bastard was giggling…while eating). He is always the first with an inappropriate joke among my friends and when I say inappropriate, I MEAN IT. Subjects covered include Jailbait, Outlandish fetishes, Japan (self explanatory), waste matter, gay jokes etc etc. You get the idea.
Sometime back I came across a link on my facebook timeline reading with the word “breast” somewhere in it (males have furiously selective skimming skills). Naturally I clicked the link. <——yeah that link.  Also,NSFW….kinda.

Closest thing to disgust i saw on his face. Now excuse me while i gloat over this major victory in the classic Teacher gets pwn3d by student scenario. This occasion warranted documentation due to the mere fact it might never happen again.

*Dogs get poisoned by chocolate. (im still like WTF!)

It’s been a while since I last posted and a as you can guess, laziness had a large part in this…..Also not forgetting the overwhelming page views Aggrey was getting overshadowed our meagre numbers (you are a sick lot dear readers of this blog).

I mean, why would you rather read gross butt in cheek (see what I did..never mind) stories  over the deranged penguin kings anecdotes of world domination stories etc etc etc.

Anyway, this was just me making a comeback post hoping no one forgot my poor old self with my horrible page view stats (yes I am that insecure).

Oh, small teaser of my next post :  How I managed to gross out the king of all that is pervy and disgusting himself. My sensei and fellow blog contributer, Aggrey himself.True Story Bro!!!

1)      The problem:  The president does not and cannot pass laws

Even if a presidential candidate makes promises that he truly means to keep, it may amount to nothing. A lot of presidents, world over, break promises not because they’re all liars but because they don’t have the power to keep them. What they mean by their promises is that “I’ll try my best to make these parliament people go along with it” When it comes to laws parliament holds all the power

Solution:  Choosing better MPs, Governors and Senators gives a better chance of success. In the end, they have more say than the president

2)      The problem:  Politics and governance don’t stay still

Things change. A good idea now might be a disaster a few months down the line. You don’t want to pick the candidate who will try keeping his promises no matter what. That’s like having a house help who you told to touch nothing until you get back and so they leave the gas running because they found it on.

Solution:  Good judgment is a lot more important than how many promises they actually keep.

3)      The problem:  It’s not about the politics it’s about the people

The most important choices a president makes are not in his politics but in his appointments After all, it’s not the president who gets to make the call in the ministries. It’s who he picks

Solution: When choosing who to vote for, observe the type of person they associate with (and not out of political necessity). The type of person a candidate values will affect who they pick for the job

A dnftb voting message.

PS: I’m the new guy. Ok- not new. It’s just my first post in ages

P.P.S Seeing the blog i’m on, the rules require me to counteract any seriousness with an equal amount of madness. So i gladly announce that dnftb will be giving ideas for election time signs. Something to the tune of

Brilliant!

1. Get Fit

As you may or may not know, I happen to be a fan of people punching, kicking and elbowing people in the face. Watching all the fit, cut and chiseled athletic men (this is what it means to be secure in your sexuality) inevitably leads to me also wanting to be as manly as they are and punch others in the face.

I’ve dabbled in fitness-like activities but this year will be different! This year they’ll be commitment and stick -to-it-ness! As soon as I get the right gym to go to. And the appropriate gym clothes. And gum shield. Hand wraps are essential as well. Let’s not forget that I need it to not conflict with my busy schedule of ME time.

Next,

2. Enjoy Myself

Not to say that the previous year was a drag, but…it was a drag. I enjoy computer games and for most of the year, I had to sit and watch as all the cool kids played the latest and greatest games, while I moaned about being broke, oh ati I can’t  buy a graphics card, oh the dollar has the shilling bent over so now the money I do have is becoming worthless in my pocket, and a myriad other technical and financial that prevented me from gaming.

Well this year WILL ! BE! DIFFERENT! I finally have my graphics card and I can get to shooting at computer generated characters and driving in to trees that jump on the road.

Or not. Barely 2 weeks with the card and it is spoilt and when it might be fixed is unknowable. So no more Skyrim for me.

And finally,

3. Be less lazy

Already off to a flying start by writing this post 2 weeks past it’s due date. But this is only a minor set back. Now it’s time to galvanise myself and make sure that things get done. Or I could just rebrand my singular approach to work and effort by declaring that from now on, I will be more judicious with the use of my energies and will apply the minimum amount of effort required to accomplish a task. That’s not laziness, I call that efficiency.

Nevertheless, I managed to cope. These days, I look at all the idiotic loudmouths like I don’t understand a word of Swahili and they leave me alone. I try to sit where the fewest people are but I’ve accepted that’s not always an option. And I try to avoid people with paper bags.

Today, though, I was… stunned? I’d just gotten to town and I happily strolled to my next stage because it was such a beautiful day and I like to stroll happily on beautiful days, knowing that it may take a while for any bus I got into to leave town because it had to fill up. The fates smiled big, braces-less smiles upon me though, and I found a Hoppa that was mostly full. On I got, in my little bubble of happiness that I wouldn’t age significantly waiting to leave town and I headed for the back bench which was mostly empty, except for this woman at one end with a ginormous paper bag. Ignoring the paper bag (and silently praying she was a mama mboga or something), I sat.

Aren't my artistic skills positively sooperdooper?

You’ll kinda have to open the picture to see because evidently, my skills do not extend beyond my fantastic art.

Anyslut, there I am sitting in my happy bubble, not sitting at the window as I would usually do because of the sun (see the sun?), minding my own business, waiting patiently for the bus to leave…

Until she decides she doesn’t want to sit there anymore. Which is all well and good… or not. She actually looked like she was going to get off, gathering her paper bag and all but instead, she switches places with the damn thing and plonks herself right on my lap, almost, popping my happy bubble with all her invasion. And she looks straight ahead like this is a perfectly natural thing to do!

And her bag of beetroots gets half the bench. I kid you not, it was crazy huge.

Okay, so politely, I start to inch away, towards the dreaded sun, trying to utilise the space she seemingly failed to comprehend and she interprets this as license to make as much use of this new space as possible. She moves. Again!

I couldn’t even choke out the words to get her to move. I was just so traumatised. Galleria could not appear soon enough. And I got off the bus before her.

And I have decided that for today, and possibly the rest of the week, this is why we are still a third-world country.

Now, I don’t claim to be an expert on world domination schemes (Actually I do, but that aside) but really, who has a worse plan than the illuminati? Anyone who sits down, looks at the situation, makes a plan to take over the world and says “you know who would really help us with this? Lady gaga!” is going to fail!
I mean, its Lady-friggin-Gaga!

Poker face?

When they fail, they cant even blame her. That’s like criticizing Stevie Wonder for not maintaining eye contact.

2. They’re role models.

Part of the lineup is Jay Z, Beyonce, Rihanna and Kanye…to mention a few.
So what you’re saying is, this society ran by rich old white powerful big wigs is hiring black people and women into prominent positions? That’s a first. Something major corporations could learn from dontcha think? Holy crap, these guys just need better marketing.

Illuminati: leading the way past racism and sexism.

3. They pay well

Now, I can’t confirm this…but I hear they pay well for good PR. If someone was to write an article about how theyre not so bad and make people fear them less they are supposedly very very generous. Not that I’d know anything about that. Cough cough

Is there really anything with (arguably) a man such as myself sitting down and enjoying a video such as this? Can’t I enjoy some pop entertainment just because there are a bunch of kids running around?

I have been accused severally and from many different sectors of liking my poon tang young and untouched. All manner of jokes have been made, e.g. “Will you dump your current gf now that she’s finished class 8?”, or “Do you have to make aeroplane noises to get your cock in your girlfriend’s mouth?”. The jokes just keep on coming and I’m finally sick and tired of it all.

None of you have been through my browser history, so none of you can judge what my tastes and perversions are. Just because my hard drive is full of hot teen and barely legal porn, just because I don’t have a huge problem with my little sister barging into my room with all her little playmates, just because most of the anime I watch has 13 yr old middle school girls showing off their strawberry patterned panties…Excuse me for a moment…

…And I’m back! All this is no reason to accuse of such dastardly deeds and thoughts. Children are a right pleasure (if you know what I’m talking about, UP TOP!) and I just watch them on the playground and in their rooms to make sure that no harm comes to them, that’s all. So please, no more pedo jokes, ok?

I just crossed the line, didn’t I?