6 keys from the edge…

First of all, I’d like to state that I am not trying to start a series of posts dwelling on one thing. It’s actually coincidental that there’s more where this stuff came from, so without prior planning a lot of it carries over and allows me to fill the cavities on my blog. Yes, I WENT there! The place I didn’t go, however was the dentist’s clinic. There’s some back story behind this and it’s kinda sucky that I forgot to mention it last week. So here’s the thing. . .

When we were setting up my appointment for the RCT (shit, I love how that makes me sound as deep as those guys you see on telly) I was asked to sit down next to the lady that schedules the appointments (by the way, I meant guys like House). So we started going through the Book Of Secrets trying to find something convenient for me. It’s amazing just how many people need to see the dentist! (I didn’t mean Zach Effron(sp) or those other wusses on Grey’s Anatomy!) No really, if I’d actually known that dentists get all this action, I’d have rethought my career ages ago. I’d have studied harder and maybe I too would be looking down mouths and stuff. Rubbing teeth of the rich and famous and not their shoulders as is the case right now.
{quick question, do you really know anyone famous enough that you’d want to gaze longingly into their mouth? Me neither}

After a bit of back and forth we settled for an early Monday appointment. What better way to start the week? I mean, it’s a given that I will probably have a shitty Monday any week, why not make this thing legit?There was the promise of a phone call reminder type thing and the threat of drinking myself silly to the point that anyone coming into the premises after I’d been, would get instantly inebriated. Good times!

It was all moving along smoothly until Saturday. We were supposed to go catch up with a couple of pals, then head home. The amount of time spent out was not going to go beyond 2 hours.

It did. I got home pretty late… or early depending on how you look at these things, and spent the bulk of Sunday in bed. Not so good times!

I don’t know about you, but from previous experience, sleep can be a bitch! The way sleep and I interact is such that I can only get involved once a day, or like there are rations and stuff. Which means, if I sleep during the day time, my slumber will elude me at night, no doubt looking for some other hapless individual that failed to get some earlier. Also, because of sleep’s bitchy nature, it’s likely that it will simply elude me and go out for a night on the town with comas and stuff instead of visiting some deserving person.

Long story short, I was awake for the pretty much the whole of Sunday night and forced myself to go to bed at about 4am,Monday. I suppose it is only fair that I point out now that my appointment was for 9am, Monday.

At about 8 something, the call to remind me came in, but I was in the throes of passion with slumber.

I would have probably gone and had the RCT (someone give me a lab coat already!) done, but a report on the internet claims that being asleep during dental procedures is the leading cause of subsequent dental procedures. Plus, I wouldn’t want to give the dentist the wrong idea. “Oh look at me! I am not afraid of pain. I can sleep through the procedure! Do your worst ‘oh-surgical-mask-wearing-mortal’. “ That shit is not good for PR.

My teeth hurt like a bitch last night so I am seriously contemplating getting the silly things removed. Everyone says there is no such thing as a permanent Root Canal thingy, and though we are pals, my dentist and I, I would much rather run into him at social gatherings and not when the environs have all this gadgetry making angry noises.

The RCT is this Thursday…. coincidentally, so is BHH.

Oh, lest I should forget, The Maurice Kirya Experience is on tonight at Rouge.

Lucy will be there doing her thing, show some love.

At some point, dear reader, you are going to be a parent. In fact, you may already be one. Whether you are aware of this, is an entirely different matter. Children are very curious er, things. They ask all sorts of questions. One of the most feared questions, according to the world wide web (considering it’s vastness, I really doubt you will challenge me on this one) is where babies come from. Why the hell a kid would concern itself with such issues is beyond me.

When the time comes, and it will, be prepared to tell junior the truth. Do not get shy about it and start talking about how DHL hooked Mummy and Daddy up and refused to leave warranty forms. No, for you see, when Junior grows up and finds out the truth, it shall sicken him/her. It will also reveal that Mummy and Daddy are hypocrites. For you see, mummy and daddy do not want Junior to tell lies, and yet they themselves are liars. Horrible ones at that. I mean, who will believe that there is a shopping mall with only children?

Tell Junior the truth. Tell him/her/it that mummy and daddy had sex. Whether you tell him that it was at the bleachers during the Rugby Game or some corner at a popular hang out joint is entirely up to you. You should then proceed to give junior a copy of the Kamasutra: Infant’s Edition. That’s the one that is not too graphic. It has little stickmen and stick women doing things to each other. You see, dear reader, if you expose Junior to graphic material, he or she will start clamouring for toys more expensive than you are accustomed to. I’d say rare, but I was told that Wandegeya stocks such toys.

Of course Junior will not only be obsessed with Sex. Should you detect signs at an early age that that’s all he is interested in (he always asks you for the HYENA section of your newspaper) then, dear reader, you are so screwed. On the other hand, if he is very inquisitive and has the hallmarks of an alcoholic and he asks you that inevitable question. Then point him to uncle Ivan’s blog, where he will find the answer to that question of the ages, “Where do drinks come from?”

IT is back again, but I never left. Okay. IT done gone and hit da street, but that don’t mean that IT take S**T from no one. IT ain’t gone go mainstream, IT is still unda-groun. IT just come out to hit y’all wid brand new leak single from Obama and McCain camp.
Everybody, wants a piece of da IT. Even Michael Jackson has nugu for me and has said Beat IT…not too long ago, him prophetic brothers done ax ya, ” Can you feel IT”. Shit, no more delay, Selekta, Hit IT.
*ouch!* hehe, selekta not really hitting IT. IT is making joke. IT don’t use selekta. IT use NIVEA

So ‘ear dis, watch as IT take you by surprise and open your eyes, dis be da part where it get da song and him slice and dice…

NUMB/ENCORE : IT REMIX ft. Barry Obama & The Mac Kane

Barry: Thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re far too kind

Now can I get an encore, do you want more
Cookin raw with the Kenyan boy
So for one last time I need y’all to roar

Now what the hell are you waitin for
After me, there shall be no more
So for one last time, niggaz make some noise

The Mac (resigned): Get em Barry

Who you know fresher than Ob’? Riddle me that
The rest of y’all know where I’m politically at
Can’t none of y’all mirror me back
Yeah hearin me rap is like hearin Bill (Clinton). Rap in his prime
I’m, young H.O (Hussein Obama)., Stato’s Grateful Head
Back to take over the globe, now break bread
I’m in, Boeing jets, Global Express
Out the country but the blackberry still connect
On the low but the yacht got a triple deck
But when you Barrack, what do you expect? Yep, yep
Grand openin, grand closin
God your man Barry’ cracked the can open again
Who you gon’ find doper than him with no pen
just draw off inspiration
Soon you gon’ see you can’t replace him
with cheap imitations for DESE GENERATIONS

Now can I get an encore, do you want more
Cookin raw with the Kenyan boy
So for one last time I need y’all to roar

Now what the hell are you waitin for
After me, there shall be no more
So for one last time, niggas make some noise

What the hell are you waiting for

[sighs] Look what you made me do, look what I made for you
Knew if I paid my dues, how will they pay you (IT: uh-huh!)
When you first come in the game, they try to play you (IT: True Dat)
Then you drop a couple of hits, look how they wave to you
From Kisumu to Constitutional Square
To the only thing that matters in just a matter of years (yea)
As fate would have it, Barry’s status appears
to be at an all-time high, perfect time to say goodbye
When I come back like M7, wearin the presidential hat
It ain’t to play games witchu
It’s to aim at you, probably maim you (IT: he kiddin’ he harmless like puss cat)
If I owe you I’m blowin you to smithereens (IT: 4 realz, he be kidding around)
Republican take one for your team
And I need you to remember one thing (IT: one thing)
I came, I saw, I conquered
From speech sales, to sold out clothing
So Republican if you want this encore
I need you to scream, ’til your lungs get sore

The Mac:
I’m tired of being what you want me to be
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface
Don’t know what you’re expecting of me
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes
Every step that I take is another mistake to you
And every second I waste is more than I can take

I’ve become so numb I can’t feel you there
I’ve become so tired so much more aware
I’m becoming this all I want to do
Is be more like me and be less like you

I’ve become so numb
Can I get an encore, (IT: er, no, you have your chance)
do you want more (IT: NO!…)
I’ve become so numb
So for one last time I need y’all to roar (IT: Go! As in away!)
One last time I need y’all to roar (IT: GOOOOOO!)

Okay, so here’s the thing. I’ve had it with being maligned for my girls-in-white-pants fetish. Fortunately, with all you guys rubbishing the whole thing and poking fun at me, I’m almost cured. What can I say, you lot are a wonderful support system. If I ever pick up a nasty drug problem, I know who to turn to for help. Yes, I said “almost” I know when we met up I told you I was fine, but I seem to have suffered a relapse. I’m working on it, when things get really bad, I try to form a mental image of Straka in white pants.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it works too well and my sperms hang themselves with their tails and in so doing,banish the thought of sex from my mind for a while.

But as is always the case after a bout of tough love from a jury of your peers, I found myself doing some soul searching. Trying to see whether the whole white pants thing is really that odd and whether Ernest is justified in laughing at me and making me feel bad. I mean. I consider Ernest a very knowledgeable person. a gentleman and a scholar, so surely he, of all people, would know which fetish warrants a laugh and which one doesn’t.

So I did some research. No, I didn’t visit porn sites, Google was pretty effective in drawing up some info. There was a site that purpotedly offered insight on this whole white pant thing, but the text accompanying the link was something to the following effect, “Japanese teens tied up for you”. I skipped it. The following fetishes apparently exist;

Spectrophilia:
This is an attraction to ghosts. I don’t know about you, but I think, from a ghost’s point of view, this is pretty disturbing. See, ghosts are generally deemed to be scary, supposed to frighten the **** out of us, so I think it would be pretty messed up if a ghost turned up and you got turned on instead.  Halloween must be such a blast for people suffering from this,huh? Are horror flicks their porn?

Aquaphilia:
The name says it all. The sight of flowing water gets you all excited and has your water flowing as well. I know, I probably shouldn’t have said that, but it was a nasty pun just waiting to happen.
All things considered, this helps justify my apparent loathing towards drinking water. I’d hate to think I’m turning someone on… You reckon people that fall in this bracket would die to see the source of the nile?

Somnophilia:

Turns out it is not such a bad thing to have insomnia. Come to think of it, I may have to rethink this whole sleep to the point of exhaustion habit I seem to have picked up. This fetish basically involves getting turned on at the sight of sleeping or unconscious people.
It’s a great time to be an insomniac or Ugandan origin, yeah?
That said, you reckon watching movies like sleeping beauty gets such people all excited and stuff?
Stuff you should not say around such types: “I’m sleepy”

Trichophilia:
This is where you get really hot and bothered at the sight of Hair. Yeah, that’s right, hair.
Don’t know if you can see it properly, but the dude in the cartoon thingy to the right is telling the damsel in distress, “Hang on, I forgot the condoms in the car, brb”
People with this fetish are likely to be found lurking in the salon or at the barbers. Hmm, who is that blogger with loads of hair? bet said blogger has a stalker.
Amendment: I just realised I may have been wrong about the barber shop bit. Being there watching someone get a haircut must be as entertaining as watching someone get kicked in the nuts…speaking of which…

Phalloorchoalgolagnia: 

Yep. People do get aroused from pain experienced there. Kinda conflicting if you ask me. See, the thing about arousal is that a person gets hard. If such a person is kicked in his GOLOGO (oh red pepper, why must you influence me so) he experiences immense pain…and pleasure…all at once.
It’s like a bloody 2 in 1 deal. buy one, get one free doesn’t have anything on these guys.
If you think about it, getting hit hard may produce a quick er…

Plushophilia:

First off, I can’t tell you enough how bad I feel about bringing this teddy bear out of retirement, but a point has to be made and what better way to introduce the fetish where someone gets turned on by stuffed animals or people in animal costumes…
So yeah, there are people that get a kick out of these things.
Makes you wonder though, when you buy a girl a teddy bear, are you loading the gun that’s going to shoot you in the back?

Sitophilia:
Ever experienced this; someone keeps insisting that he or she is hungry and then when you get to a restaurant, all they do is stare at the food? Me neither, but there really are people who get a kick out of looking at food. I probably should have read up more on this one seeing as I really can’t fathom how anyone can be turned on by Matooke or that millet stuff. “Honey, I brought you some Ugali…Oh yeah, yeah, yeaaaaaahhhhhhh”

There’s loads more where these came from, but I am none too crazy about putting up some of the accompanying illustrations for some of them (eg; Coprophilia – attraction to shit (bracket within a bracket, how edgy!…shit as in poop!), Emetophilia- attraction to puke, Eproctophilia- attraction to farts, Necrozoophilia- attraction to dead animals…and so on and so forth) but yeah, the moral of this story, if ever there was one, is that my white pants thing is not such a bad thing after all. it may not have a fancy name or whatever, but at least you can eat and drink with me nearby and not wonder whether I’m getting turned on by your lunch.

Here’s a to a new week.