Super Jack Rabbit

a very very
beautiful woman

Time marches on never ending, and time keeps its own time. sometimes time is fast. other times its slow. it really depends with the occasion.  Nothing really rushes time like being in the company of a very beautiful woman who makes you feel wobbly bonkers. You see, I'm right, well almost. time also is slow when you're in the elevator and out of the blue moon you let free some odour that could decapacitate a dead goliath. You smile at yourself because you're alone. Then it(the elevator not odour) stops at the next floor and an amicably dressed lass walks in. Even her strong perfume is no match. the door closes so  fast and she vigorously tries to press the button to open up the now small nuclear gas station. That birdie has been caged. you can't smile. you're not supposed to.you try to think up an excuse like you found a dead rat in the elevator, but even you knows that it would smell better. so you play along and hold your nose. but gat dammit, the smell creeps in through your ears and you can feel it poking your brain. Time is fast when you have no classes on Thursday. because you wake up and realise it almost past noon and that's half a day you've spent in bed. You wake up and do your routine yoga exercise, with your mouth. You let out a horrific yawn and when your mouth shuts its already eight in the night. time is slowest when you attend a lecture of polish law. you are certain that you know polish but the lecture just can't help it but speak greek. Of course you can't stand up and leave the lecture theatre to go feed your puppies. Not when you are the only one in the whole university with chocolate skin. not when your note book is as empty as George bush's head. you're so conspicuous that you fear touching the back of your head, you can feel the all the eyes burning your back that you fear your skull gave in and you might touch the brain. I'd fancy touching my brain, just to rub some memories..but you don't want to risk that knowing where your hands were last. they were picking the nose. some of you might need to rub your dirty minds as well.

if i would touch my brain i wouldn't mind sticking the lyrics to this song. i am tired of humming along. But I'm content. I am enjoying my time and nothing would eclipse this moment. My university rocks stones. well apart from when you sit in a maths class with a blonde who's out-shining you. then you shrug it off and tell yourself she probably dyed her hair. but deep down you know that ain't true. sometimes you wish you would hibernate, and wake up on tuesday and friday. because its only then that you have your sole english class in four years. taught by a jolly chap from old blighty. and boy is he funny. i can assure you nothing beats British humour, with the exception of these Tanzanian chaps. That class is super fun i can assure you. for one, its multi-racial with a French, a German, an  Arab, an Italian and an African, me. never mind, its hard explaining that africa is not a country, and if you succeed in explaining that then you have to figure out how to show that Kenya is not JUST NEXT to Nigeria. i just let it go,so i'm African, and proud.  Of course the German dude get's the brunt of most jokes as the English and German are perennial rivals.Heck we even play hangman with the teacher. 

I have to sleep, and nothing beats a beautiful sleep when that girl calls just to say good night. Indeed a good night.   

FOOLS DIE

LISTEN to me. I will tell you the truth about a man's life. I will tell you the truth about his love for women. That he never hates them. Already you think I'm on the wrong track. Stay with me. Really- I'm a master of magic.
Do you believe a man can truly love a woman and constantly betray her? never mind physically, but betray her in his mind, in the very "poetry of his soul". Well, it's not easy, but men do ita ll the time.

Do you want to know how women can love you, feed you that love deliberately to poison your mind simply to destroy you? And out of passionate love choose not love you any more? And at the same time dizzy you with an idiot's ectasy? Impossible? That's the easy part.
But don't run away. This is not a love story.

I will make you feel the painful beauty of a child,the animal horniness of the adolescent male, the yearning suicidal moodiness of the young female. And then (here's the hard part) show you how time turns man and woman around full circle, exchanged in body and soul.

And then ofcourse there is TRUE LOVE. Don't go away it exists or I will make it exist. I'm not a master of magic for nothing. Is it worth what it costs? And how about sexual fidelity? Does it work? Is it love? Is it even human, that perverse passion to be with only one person? And if it doesn't work, do you still get a bonus for trying? Can it work both ways? Of course not, that's easy. And yet--
Life is a comical business, and there is nothing funnier than love travelling through time. But a true master of magic can make his audience laugh and cry at the same time. Death is another story. I will never make a joke about death. It is beyond my powers.
...
Parallel to death, love is a tiresome, a childish business, though men believe more in love than death. Women are another story. they have a powerful secret. They don't take love seriously and never have.

But again, don't go away. Again; this is not a love story. Forget about love. I will show you all the stretches of power.

The excerpt is a part beautiful introduction to Fools die by Mario Puzzo. Get it while you can.

Relapse

The other night I did a quick relapse of my short escapades in life. And I noticed something strange. Strange because I hardly noticed it every time it happened. I could not place my finger at it precisely at the moment. What was it? I could see it, and then again I would not. It stood there with its doors ajar...and me trying to force entry to doors which had no business being open. Then it hit me!!like a train with no headlights at night. I have always been attracted to stupid women!!jumping junipers!!I think this happens by default. That switch must be rusty now as its never been touched. Well, let's give them credit, they are clever to fooling me. Their looks/composure fool me,oh cmoon! Sometimes I feel I can change them by osmosis. But no matter how much man is intelligent, a woman will be the death of him!! Come to think about it, leonardo da vinci was womanless,einstein,enscede,copernicus,isaac newton,galileo galilei,daniel moi(hehe). They realised something. It just wasn't a rare coincidence. Wait even Jesus was. Now don't mistake me, I am not comparing myself to any of these scallywags(with exceptions to Jesus) because it can't happen. And I'm also not saying I won't need a woman in the near future, heck I want three even! What I'm saying, these people realised it not worth it. They realised the only good women, stay at home helping their mothers cook and don't have girl talk. Girl talk..talk about a blind man(cancel)woman leading another.

But I think it balances out. Sometimes men are tired chasing life and need to cool off for a while,we often pop around for a free ride from this blind fellas, and when re-energised enough we move on. And they will never learn. But when times come to settle down...err,let's just say karma's a female dog.

But I'm assured that there are good women. I have seen them out there with good men. I am sure the statistics of such women in africa is next to zero.no offense:)) so I think my grand mothers dream will come true. And I wish I could say things in black and white lest I offend some curious minds. That's enough spewing I guess. For today.

So yea,before I leave, somebody tell me what's the difference between open and closed relationships??its been on fb for a while now, but I just hit me! Does open mean I should join you guys for a picnic or I should sit and watch in anticipation from a distance as there may just be a loop hole and I can snatch you? Btw that's plain arrogant. Well,strange post today, you can't talk about cows and don't drink milk(or eat grass maybe hehe).*sigh

post script

if you really care about god's green earth please feed my fishes at the corner there. click on the white and food somehow appears...and dont act too smart now..go ahead and do it.
do they remind you of that time...long long ago hahah.

Reminiscence of a female dog.

Have you ever searched for something? Searched for it so bad that you felt like kicking the neighbour’s dog. And then…and then you find that goddam thing on yourself. Be it clasped in your hands or in your pockets, if it is small enough. Well, unfortunately, I cannot kick my neighbour’s dog. It’s a mix breed of all the baddest dogs you have heard of. This is a dog that doesn’t lift its hind legs while taking a piss. In fact, the piss gives itself to be taken. Maybe you have not heard, but I have my fair share of history with dogs. I have been brutalised by them. I have been hospitalized…okay not really. But I got some nasty tetanus injection on my posterior as a result. I was young. Cut me some slack. Bring those dogs on now… yes I will end up hospitalized, but take my word; I will not go down alone. Those dark days are over. My neighbour’s dog though is another story… for once both angels on my shoulders agree that it’s a very very bad idea.

I was about young years old. Young enough to be woken up served breakfast and held hands to the bus stop. I remember I had this habit where I found pleasure in dipping bread in tea. Let’s just say I was beaten out of it. I was a nice kid. You know the ones who old women used to rub your cheeks and whisper how you’re going to be chased by girls hehe. Been there, not necessarily being chased for all the right reasons. our house help had the responsibility of escorting me to the school bus stop. We were just about to leave the main gate of our estate when, we saw some dogs(note the ‘s’) from a distance at full flight towards us. They looked like they had received direct orders from the devil to devour us. Have you ever felt betrayed? Helpless? Rejected? Hopeless? That’s just a tip of the iceberg compared to what I felt when the house help did not think twice about letting my hand go. She took to her heels into some banana plantation like 50 metres away. So yes I was alone now. The dogs numbers three (two bitches and a male), not including like six well fed puppies. I had to run, slow, but running none the less.  Don’t gimme that, at least there was initiative. With every step I made ahead I took a slow-mo glimpse at the dogs which were now hot on my heels. I don’t know, I expected some lightening to strike them. Or a mango tree to fall on them all. The estate gate was wide open. Wide enough for a troop of elephants to march in. But amid my glimpses, as I turned I was met with a crashing reality. I took the edge of the gate head on. I saw stars in their well aligned constellation, including the non-existent ones. What are the odds!! So here I was seething with uncontrollable pain on the ground. It was such a crash that still left me a souvenir on my forehead. I did not have time to even touch my forehead before those carnivals swarmed me. Boy was I in for it. And then my memory right now does a Martin Scorsese on me. I have a slightly long flash of me kicking at two puppies which were of the opinion I had tasty legs. That flash is long enough to squeeze ketchup. Then it fades. Then I picture a paw on my face. That one isn’t long. The snarls are getting louder now. Either I blacked out or the memories have faded away with time, but I remember next being in the hospital bed lying on my stomach and a crisp breeze on my now naked butt. I wonder who rescued me. Is it watchman Musa? Certainly not that selfish house-help. Maybe the bitch ( the female dog not the house-help) remembered it had forgot her make-up. And it hastily left. Now you know why I never watched the movie ‘All dogs go to heaven’ because those mongrels will take the first bus straight to… 

wait a minute..i actually meant an actual female dog..what the??

A good meal and a green t-shirt.

I proudly own a green T-shirt. In fact, I have had one green T-shirt my whole life. I must confess, I was born at a very early age(insert smile)..so that shows how special my green T-shirt is. I Mr. Priced it from my first salary immediately after high school (my mum gave it the look that seemed to say,the minute I have my one eye off it and she'll have it donated. Teenagers!) And so it was a commandment to protect it from the evil mojojojo. I'm not the type of person who wakes up to try matching clothes, a worrying habit nonetheless. I wear the first thing my eyes land on. And I must say the run has not disappointed..YET! But its not about it being my only ngleen tsat(jude! That jokes on you boy). Its because it comes attached with a special array of feelings. Believe me not, it was the first topic of conversation with a friend I fell in love with. If my memory serves me right it was the second time I wore it( meaning it still was not washed). It broke the ice. Here's the roll, She said " Hi! I really like you T-shirt"

"Me too(noooo of course I didn't say that) Thanks. Its just.."( I wanted to say its new, but somehow it felt shady..so I swallowed a huge one and smiled back)

" Oh sorry, where are my manners, I'm Chemu"

"I'm Bill..umm Chemu,sure heard a lot about you from Roy(twas a LIE!!).so.." I said with a wide smile. Something about this girl was just hmm. It was a just so tranquil moment. Still vivid in my memory. All this while we chatted as we waited for the watchman to open the gate to a friend's place who had invited us over.

"By the way, I wouldn't mind having your number." She said as she prised her phone from her bag. She spoke with so much ease I thought this was a prank. Ashton Kutcher come out!!

"0724617598 " I mumbled in between my breath. We exchanged numbers and I saved her as 'Chemu' on my phone. As much as I have the memory of an elephant(note the irony) I still remembered her name. Heck it was only ten minutes. Well, as I later came to learn after one year, this woman saved me as 'Roy's friend'. And she never changed it. I was shocked. Chemutai! Woman had to earn her forgiveness by doing an extra banana ride(and what an aptly timed venue Lunar park was for such a shocker). The gods must have smiled down at me. No one likes banana rides at Lunar park. But we parked there with a whole load of jolly good friends just for a day to hang out on ice creams, high screams and multiple head aches from the dizzying. Yes I made her do an extra banana just to earn my forgiveness.haha I'm evil( no I'm not). It was all in a light note. Well save for Sheila, who now I must quote " whoever made this thhhhiiingg went straight to hell" she was saying this amid tears. And no, not tears of joy. Hahaha!! Poor Sheila. Chemu had no much fuss. Nada! Let alone for her glass-breaking screams and funny face expression. After the ride of course we still were friends(aww moment).

I had just let her off the hook before she was at it again.
" Eli, wow! I like your pants." She complemented my pal.

And so I turned to her and gave her THE LOOK. You know, the look!

"Chemu did you really like my t-shirt, or is this a case of a failed attempt at revising your pick-up lines?" I told her pointing at the banana.

" Noooo, Bildooo..what now!"

Of course she couldn't remember. I did. I knew she liked the T-shirt. She liked a lot of things. She loved everyone. And she could not help it.

I remember Roy and I randomly bumping at her in the city and the next minute we would be at her place. Bummer! !Like a ritual she would show us her family portraits along the wall. Then we would all dive into the kitchen. Of course Roy my boy would 'rarua' the kuku like the real lunje he is. I preffered to be modest. Don't look at me like that.

"Bildo can I add?" I remember her saying.

"Ahh no thanks, in fact I think I won't finish what I already have. Might check up for stomach surgery after this."

"Please, stop pretending..no you're not getting away with that" she said enthusiastically with her eyes squinched, like she always did.

And she would just lump everything on my plate. Of course I wondered whether I had lost my voice or something. Did she actually hear me mumble something? But that was Chemu. Always giving more.

So many memories still linger. Some still remain classified personal but one day the world will know. Not by words. No.

Ofcourse the long distance when I flew away had a loud silence between us. And when she jotted on my facebook wall. It felt special. We chatted up seven posts between us(I think). What I didn't know she was chatting from her hospital bed(I just let go a tear.true story). She never mentioned it! She still had that positive kick in her. That positive energy reverberated from her. I could feel it more than ten thousand kilometers away. In fact I kept deleting other stuff from my wall so that every time I logged in I could see what she had wrote.( A habit I still carry).

Two weeks down the line I got a message from a friend telling us to pray for her. She was hospitalized. My heart bled. But Inside me I knew it would be alright. Really! We once had a conversation with her on how hospitals now-a-days are just money minting.

"Bildo imagine I once was taken from school with this really bad stomach ache. I could hardly stand up. Then this doctors at karen hosp just kept doing a million unnecessary tests.for a whole day!!! I was in agony. I could not swallow a thing coz of the pain. Then far late in the evening the doc calls us in, shows us some x-ray and tells me and my mum ati I'm pregnant" she said. " My mum was in TOTAL shock..and I just looked at the doc knowing it was a lie. I mean how!! I looked at my mum on the way home and told her, I'm not going to force you not to believe that doc, mum you may not trust me but trust the way you brought me up" Those last words were like a fist to the heart. How true they were. Of course in the end the doctors had misdiagnosed.

Chemu passed on. She went to be with the good Lord. She left without a goodbye. January 17th. I read about it at the break of dawn the same day.

I felt all my energies get sapped. A man has to learn to cry. And I cried. I had to. I don't think I ever cried as far as my memory serves me. I didn't even go to class. She deserved a lot more than my tears. The whole world didn't mean a thing to me. And you see thing is, Chemu was the first person close to me to lose in such a cruel way. So it really did hurt. And that is where I got ushered in this world. With the good coming in equal measure with the bad. Now I was experiencing life as my Rwandan friend likes to call it. Now I encountered the dim realities. Like a coin has two sides to it. I celebrated her life. Like a thousand of her friends. No one can be loved like Chemu. Who doesn't know her, or at least heard of her. Her story will live for generations, I give you my word for that.

And I am wearing that green T-shirt. I carried it. How could I leave it at the mercy of my mother. I look at it and smile. I think Chemu. No other person has ever told me they like it, because it is special. Its not for everyone to like it. You can go like an update, like your girl, like your country, like your fancy hairstyle, go like a mango..but you can't like my green T-shirt. Only Chemu did. And funny how I still insist on wearing it despite me over growing it.

Every time I make very nice food. I usually take a few minutes and just stare at it. Seriously! I do. And I'm like Billy my boy aint I proud of you!! I stare at it for at least two minutes. These are the times I wish I had those frequent guests(apart from the nigerian). Times I wish they would enter and stagger backwards in shock. Times they would pull down their sunglasses because their eyes can't take it no more, and they would go like whoooaaa! "Bill my man, what's the number of that chef" they would say while pulling out their phones ready to dial. Times like this I would pull a serviette and tell them to wipe of the sweat, offer then a seat as they are terribly trembling. Times they would labourously breathe and say "bill man, dyu have a first aid kit. Man that food is the shit(okay wrong word!)" of course no friggin visitor comes. How unfortunate. So I'm forced to act those parts.haha.

Funny how every single time I make a good(balanced diet) meal I think of Chemu. I see her staring at me from heaven. I'm sure she would have joined me given the chance. Weird as it sounds that's just the way it is. Can never forget her. If her phone is still there, I will go look for Roy's friend. I will look for me.

In the mean-time the only way I can still see her is through my mouth-watering, delicious, sun-glasses-wearing food....err and t-shirt( I swear from the heart of my bottom that I actually felt my t-shirt pinch me to add that part).

mrs doubtfire

Nothing can dispel the enthusiasm of school like mathematics. Don't get me wrong I have loved mathematics. but i speak for the majority. if you had a father like mine then you would have had a fair share of nightmares with einstein, carl francis and the other cahoots starring in them. he practically assured me impending sleepless nights if 'simple' maths could not add up. Even my mother's intervention was futile. He said everything around us applied mathematics to it. Mathematics was the catapault. Boy was he right. To approach a girl you have to calculate the odds before you go for the prize..save for those who sip burgundi wine at a corner table, six foot heels,a skirt which rivals my granmother's handkerchief and have their eyes laden with mascara(that's what its called? Right) those whose smile seems to say "I carry the heavy weight of beauty on my shoulder,excuse me if I seem pre occupied." Those ones need no calculation. Run away!! Its the only anaestethia to your ego. Our problems were qualmed once the report card had friendly numbers. and I never looked back, unless when scratching my back. Incase your wondering what a friendly number looks like, maybe I could tell what it doesn't look like. While my uncle was a kid he took his report card to my grandpa. The old man was educated. He took a good look. He then took another good look, probably assuming he had made some mistake at what he saw at first. With bewilderment he asked, " Is this the fees balance or your position?" what he saw was a not a friendly number.

My mathematics classes at the university are nothing short of tedious. Thing is I am tought in polish, so I'm experiencing a whole system overhaul. Everything I knew almost equates to nothing. Almost. But non the less I find the journey very interesting. There is no worse feeling than giving up. There sure are some dull days of mathematics. But nothing can take away the excitment created by mrs doubtfire. I call my maths lecturer mrs doubfire. Ok repeat that name, turn it over in your mind,make it simmer..aint it faboulous? She has the looks of mrs doubtfire(acted by robin williams) from the exclaimed movie..err. Only that she is no man. I think. Wom$n got jokes. And nothing beats a joke delivered by a stern face. Sometimes she cracks a smile to her jokes. Name whoever you think who has a personality of a cold sandwich, Mrs doubtfire will deliver his soul,with a smile attached to it.
Eddie griffin must have dropped out of her class.

if I could do a postmortem on her life I would give her 65+ years of accuring jokes. I strongly believe she must have been there around the second world war. Since that war started in poland, the good lord saved her from the bombs of hitler. And she sure returned the favour by teaching the good lord's creations maths,and a sense of humour. She witnessed the high handedness of the russians up till 21 years ago. Why I say this, is because the russians in my class get owned real good..and I mean real real good. One son and maybe a daughter just to give her the benefit of doubt. She speaks only french and polish. She appears to be knee deep in the cheese. And her dressing is elegant. If she would drop the thick glasses and quit blinking you'd think she is a mannequin. I think she spends a lot of time on the mirror. Well I don't blame her. Beauty is her portion. Unlike some of us who avoid mirrors because what stares back is not optically digestible.

We average at around sixteen students. Give or take one. The two Vietnamese and two Chinese are nothing short of brilliant. That I give them. So for sure no tantrums are thrown their way.

Murphy's law says anything that can happen will happen.

"Bildad my dear could you solve this sum for us."(Please note that there is no question mark).

At that moment, the angels in heaven must have stopped singing. The sum shaked the foundation on which I had built my deceptive mortality on. That was the hardest sum I have laid my eyes onto. That chalk must have broken into pieces immediately. I didn't have a snowball's chance in hell. I could hear the guy next to me swallow deep...and hard. I felt that small tail, which every human has, coil into a tight curl. Boy did I wish I could take a dump.

Footnote: This happens atleast twice every week. So next time you think you've had a hard week, think again.

NOT winning!

Last night, I thought I'd wake up a jack bauer of some sort. You see, everyone pictures hisself to have some kind of unfathomable power therein. Long gone days when I had no knowledge of a goatee my father taught me and my brother a song. Early to bed, early to rise, makes someone healthy and wealthy and wise..and so it went. Having being a sunday, the night was resoundingly calm as always. On checking my watch it was circa ten of the clock, I had early classes and had nothing else to justify a late one. Ahh what the heck, I hit the blankets. Lights, camera..and action. And that is when it all began. Caution, this is not one of those hullaboo where I end up blowing hot on how it was all in the end, a dream.

So I dug in my oars. Two hours in, I abruptly woke up on hearing a phone call. Thing is, even an elephant march across my room (not that it can fit in anyway) cannot wake me up. I sleep like a fat female bat. My room mate who apparently was awake received the call and murmered something of the sought to suggest that I was asleep. The caller was asking for me.

"Hallo!"

..murmuring..

" No Bill is asleep now"

More murmuring, only now had it moulded into a more convincing tone.

"Okay. Don't worry I'll make it look like an accident..so about the money?"

More assuring murmurs attenuated by a resounding command..

In the while, I had pinched myself to reality. This was not a dream.

I threw a quick gaze towards the direction of my room-mate, who by now was reciting some long ass numbers to the receiver. With all the strength I could muster, I steathily pulled the revolver under my pillow..

The conversation actually ended at him saying I was asleep. And he hung up and went back to his computer. In the whisker of a second the door knocked. For real.

" Hey maen..umm do you know Anya?"

I was now fully awake, my brains rather, my eyes remained shut. I knew who the stranger was. Some punk Nigerian dude who sauntered, scratch that, who swagged around our hostel oftenly. Boy always had sagged pants and a durag on. I could bet no one knew the colour of his hair, or rather, whether he even had hair! This guy gave me the chills. This is how. Goes back to the new year party. We welcomed it with a small party( for east africans and friends of east africa) in the vicinity, lots of food, loud music, champagne and one or two or three skimpily dressed women. I had participated in part in preparing the venue but hastily left for church. I was that religious. Still am. Little past mid-night after the service ended I was to take a bus home, as I endured the gut wrenching cold. Apparently I was waiting for a bus or tram(whichever came first) which was coming from heaven. There I was, sitted at the stop shivering like a bird. I don't want to remember how I even tried a lighter on my hands just to keep warm. To cut the short story long(insert smile) I found the party kicking. Quick hugs( to the ladies ofcourse) and happy new years and off I was to the food section. I was so cold I could not afford a warm smile. As the night wore off and glasses broke,drinks spilled and dawn cracked, the numbers reduced and reduced and reduced and stopped at three people. Last men..err,and a woman standing huh. Yes, count me in. Not that I was a victim of insomnia but I was waiting for something. Right infront of my eyes, I saw it, but could not take it. Take a guess. My lap top and speakers! The only thing between me taking it was, the Oga brother. And his fat slightly malnourished girlfriend. Gate crashers. Not that I'm complaining. I am a victim. I have crashed into more parties than a blind donkey in Mwea. Guy was churning out tupac and old skul hits as he rapped along. He also had a couple of songs of his own up his sleeves. As the night wore off I later learnt that he was a rapper. For hours he had taken over the lap top as he got high on weed. I kept asking,yes asking, him to play one last one and we call it a night. Ofcourse, one last one led to another. I sat there wearingly staring at him as he fed me his cock and bull of which concerts he has rapped in and the sort. I could not apply my force here. That would be a foul move. Oga had scars all over his face and arms to suggest he made kissing fists and broken bottles a hobby. Me being handsome and all that, I didn't want to be part of the after-party fought fight statistics. Heck he was even taller than me. Only then after his weed ran out did he leave. So I always strayed away from him, lest I add another scar on his face. Yea right! Appart from the occasional hallo's we never had any other qualms.

Only recently had I seen him with no durag, his head was whistle clean. With all the sharp corners on his head, I mean, that head would send down shivers to the strongest bull straight from Ikolomani. No assertions, guy could as well have been walking with a weapon as his head.

So my roomates replied to the affirmative, that he knew Anya.

"So listen up maen, she told me I could come to you because I have this bag and I wanted to leave it here coz I'm travelling tomorrow then come for it early in the morning." Said mr sharp head.

I am sure that we all are accustomed to the story of how one can be tricked off to hold something for a friend, without much ado the phony friend actually tips off the police and lands your sorry ass in jail. All the while contents of the 'something' you were holding were ill eagle. My roomate was actually abrest with such stories, I assumed. Since he tried to actually wade the guy off. From the onset of things, the guy never took no as an answer.

"Don't you have friends in this building you can give instead?" Enquired my room mate.

"I have but they've refused maen."

"Why?"

"This is life maen..you know, that is life maen.."

"So where do you live?"

..Silence..

"Why don't you go with it there instead.."

"You know..I'm gonna come for it early in the morning,coz I have to come get it,then go back get the other stuff then imma travel"

At this point I was lost at what he tried to imply. Either he was very stupid or very smart. In the end all he meant was that he wanted to leave the bag here!! Total bollocks!

"You know what I'm saying..?" Oga squirmed.

..Long weird silence..

"What time will you take it?" Enquired my roommate.

At this point I felt like strangling him. How lame could he be to fall into that trap. I could now picture his face..I could bet it was contorted like that of a pregnant seal trapped in a fish net. Then my mind swang into a spin. I pictured police men coming for us. Just then I pressed my phone and noted the time.00.18. You know!! I felt detective like. I felt jack bauer.