Warning! Explicit content.

Done playing: George Ezra’s Budapest, and Gorgan Star & MNEK’s; Ready For Your Love.

Now playing: Radioactive (by that band, which for some reason wants us to imagine dragons)

“Having a difficult time in your life right now? Turn your love light on and let that mother-effrr shine.”

I’ve been often cited questioning the validity of throwbacks, among other things – like why Alex Ndahula (kankurahure niiwe) still runs his on Fridays (I’m not entirely sure tho) or even so; why Bwogi Emmanuel listens to that awkward man (things that haunt me). I can’t tell who’s which … but all that aside; Imagine Dragons. Shudder! I know we aren’t supposed to (those guys are like well known dicks) but on reading that … what would you rather conjure up? 3 of them? Say, one gone rogue, the pair captured (What am I saying? Just think about Khalesi, GOT Sn5 – Epd6, exactly where I left it).

Still playing: Radioactive

Lethal, and also blonde. My idea of a throwback. But also pretty and yes, (I can not believe I’m yet to say this) smart. Not the kind that baffle Jo, obviously (I mean, who cares?) (Family guy, obviously). But again… not, think of it as a kind of love. Right, say you love blondes, huh … the damaging kind. Okay, now let’s do away with the dragons for a bit (I’m more of a dinosaur guy anyway). Imagine the aftermath then. Taylor gets it; burn the house, and then maybe; go hug a hobo at whatever her next song is about. I swear, I’d bite a spinach joke off her other vagina too, if I knew it in person. Apologies, I walked you right into an ugly spinach joke back there. But oh well, like I once said; I have that much respect for anyone that can spinach a vegetable joke. No pun. Also, throw that back any Tuesday, on Friday Night Lights even, and watch Kev try to pun that, or whatever. He’s too short, it would be funny either way.

Listen, I don’t know what it was about this song that makes me cranky and also, revered savagely enough to chant about in my after midnight sessions, but … it still bothers me when birds peck on other birds. Seems as though… (Phew) (I’m glad that ended right when it does) Throw backs aren’t my strongest of suits. Either way I’m glad that’s done, shots my ass!

Was playing – Shots (Also by the dragon band)

Now playing: Sideline Story – J Cole

Earlier today, I got a call to go pick my appointment letter, from UBL (which makes Guinness (Yay) and also Bell (Ooh))… But more importantly, I thank Mr. Asaph for it. Because of him, I watched a dream come true even though I was mostly asleep the entire time. Now, I know of no woman, and lots of men actually (if you can believe it) (who also support MUFC) that will tell you; the satisfaction derived from working with beer is second to none. To be fair, I’ll make this about Dr. Baabi David. And… abracadabra! #Grad_Things

Now playing: Hello, also by Cole J (For real though). I do not intend these puns and neither do they, me. Okay, maybe a little. Maybe we try extra extra like Senator, but who cares? Name me one distaff item wrapper that doesn’t apply make up (unintentionally) if you try to eat out of it savagely … and I’ll share with you one experience from a certain girl I dare not mention here for fear of being run over and dug right through … (wait for it) by the nipples rather savagely… all from imagination. (And there’s the beating heart all exes long for) (But what if I’m not kidding?) Now remember, you can find more of this at https://iamaruho.wordpress.com

I’m done playing stuff.



Throw Back

*Turns on T.V
”Yeah right, lets all be happy. Nice one Pharrel. Your brothers in Egypt… the Pharaos, they’d chew you up and spit out Bell cans if they weren’t so preserved right now.

Seriously though, I took a bell once… once! But even then it tasted like Simba’s piss. Here, let me tell you all about it: ”So there we were enjoying a made up holiday in Lugazi, April 2013, amid the first semester of my second year, sampling some great culture and wonderful mental decadants. And it had managed to stay as such up until Tony… you know Tony, he jokes about slapping rats to death all the time. He probably has tiny rat souls allover his finger bums too, so steer clear of him. Any hoo, he bullied me into ordering a beer in a roadside bar, I had a swig and gagged, then said to the barman, “What the hell is this?” He then replied, “the crown jewel of Uganda breweries” …or as Alex likes to call it, ”ekidde.”

Short story even shorter, I took it outside, threw it into the road, came back inside and had no remorse parting with 8,200 shillings what so ever. I would just like to say sorry to the Mufumbira on the bike with the grey shirt that I accidentally soaked. Or not, that guy sucked!

Oh and, they hurt just like us so try not to throw random things at their daring heads.


I’m out

I’ve been bullied into going out yet again, to dance and flirt the week away, I suppose. Can I even pretend to be that drunk? Anyhoo, this is me pretending to be dancing and obviously posting about about something else.

Here; I ate out of bag today. Soon after which I took the photo attached – in case it were my last. I also engaged in a couple of other activities but it’s beat to let that beast rest. People and spiders don’t quite get to me as you’d hope them to. My fears are more realistic, you see. Speaking of which; what have you people done with the system now? Can’t even have a rolex in public without feeling guilty anymore?! You might as well call it Genix while you’re at it. Not that I know of any one who goes by that name or anything.

I miss the old ways sometimes; when you’d have to unsheath the real thing with that much stealth and precision as though a ninja just hand-mailed you her true HIV test results right there in the middle of coitus. I once had mine disappear into thin air during a single game of minesweeper. My goodness, the horrors to that thing? Phenomenal! There’s a specific way the polythene wrapper sticks to your burning finger tips, provoking you… daring you to raze through it in an instant, like you wouldn’t, that very instance if you wanted to. And you often did… in an instant even. To prove a point often times – that you were drunk enough to call it a day. Like I am now.



Interfaith Relationships

To be honest, the whole “opposites attract” thing doesn’t appeal to me. Chances are, it probably won’t appeal to you either after reading this. I believe the logic behind is that opposites don’t necessarily mean different, as is the general assumption. It’s very much possible for two people to want the same thing and still be on opposing sides. Question is, what’s to stop them from pursuing it? Take an example of interfaith relationships. Whatever the design, be it true love, juvenile experimentation or lunacy- love is within itself hate. Hatred for all that you don’t love. Now when you as an individual, capable of holding a grudge or alternatively showing compassion, step out of your comfort zone to meet the other party half way with the intention of pleasing them, you are very well literally compromising the same core values and beliefs that you stand for. And on a relatively longer scale of time, the both of you will have totally abandoned your belief systems and each taken up the other’s state of believing, living… and being. Assuming you truly loved each other.

Oh yes, the photo. I do take to the woods occasionally- to breathe free and of course, engage in the occasional hiking adventures, like climbing trees and/or trunks. I can’t say the same about Phil though. He had a perfectly horrible hiking experience, but he’ll come around. Now take for instance attracting people into your life, completely unrelated to the former. The idea is to get as many people to like you, your updates, your pictures, or even your parts… whatever it takes to satisfy your narcissistic tendencies. But in so doing, you end up with a lot of people, all who happen to have differing perceptions of you, some more bearable of course. So every time you need reassurance, a strange lot of people will be there to comfort you and make you feel complete, with emphasis on feel. A perfectly deserving relationship it might seem. But remember to them you are somewhat perfect- incapable of committing error. So in return, they tend to define you through dictating how much of you to expose whenever you are out there, be it on tour, sport or verbal interaction. This too depends on their values and beliefs- call that paradigms. The example I borrow from this is a situation where a dumb version of me tries to explain their idea of a basic thanks giving dinner to a vegetarian. Like would I against all odds, depict a fairytale dream where I’m best friends with broccoli man simply for their appeal? Because to be honest, my broccoli man depiction can be compared to your idea of the devil, and I mean that quite literally- scary weird guy in a vegetative state.

Earlier this month, I got shocked when a friend admitted to hating how tend to I end every sentence with proper punctuation. But like every other person out there, I too do compromise on this pattern of behavior when chatting with someone I really like. I recently tried to tell some lady mate I was crushing on that being shy is irrelevant. That one man’s idea of a broken you shouldn’t necessarily instigate emotion within you. Not verbally, but I tried. And it’s true, only you can choose what to feel. But you see, this doesn’t carry much weight in the constitution of friendship. You have to take a leap and show genuine hurt when someone you care about presents you with their idea of stressors, however irrelevant they might be. On my side however, if your goal was to dance and you scored an epic fail, then your idea of fun will be one I can totally relate to. There, we can be friends. No cardinal opposing interests involved, just similarities.



I feel safer when I’m alone. I like to get away, stare at empty tins- something my teachers in kindergarten used to say; empty tins make the loudest noise, is it? I can’t quite remember. But that’s not relevant here. Listen, it’s over 80 degrees outside, the world must be ending. But who cares, the world is always ending, right? That is one of the numerous copying mechanisms this generation has conjured up to rid ourselves of panic. We ask ourselves, how worse can it get? But we don’t really know, do we? In fact we never live long enough to find out.

See I’m a 90’s kid. I grew up in the end of days. I was 8 in the year 2000. A lot of speculation about that, although it was the first time it occurred to me that the idea of non-existence was very real. The disbelief that followed ushered in an age of discontent towards the ancestral paradigms. But then came 2012, boy did we swing to club Wiley. That was years later I think. I remember it because it’s like on January 1st, 2013 the entire world had cleared their browser history, and all prior searches on Mayans were simply gone. Just like that. So if there’s anything certain that I’ve learnt my whole existence, it’s that nothing is ever certain.

Last week, I saw a quote that read ”I don’t want to go to heaven, none of my friends are there anyway.” You can feel that this fellow really took his time- the writer, to explain his thoughts. But very few seem to gather his real intent and/or gravity of his statement. In his words, you can tell he believes in the existence of God, he’s somewhat certain of it, and yet he still chooses to falter. And he affirms it. Right there, the man just wants to be with his friends. Atheists are such crybabies. Do you know how much pain that takes? A lot… none, don’t answer that. It really doesn’t matter. What does however, is the comment I posted- ”Do you know what can drive a man to kill themselves? That much ignorance.” I got 5 likes and a whole lot of mean replies, but I probably deserved that so no offense taken.

Now I noticed that 15k other folks apparently found this quote amusing, I’m assuming that’s why they liked it. In fact, I’m certain of it. Me, I found it insulting. Emotional dishonesty exasperates me. But I still liked the damn update, it’s an outstanding piece of irony. That and the fact that you can’t comment if you haven’t liked the post’s original page.

I love oranges. I have been using that phrase as my go to reference whenever I’m nervous. But the truth is, I hate oranges. The peeling… now that takes care and precision to execute. That waiting, till the outer layer is completely removed. I would never survive such an ordeal. But I’ll take the juice. The point is, fruits make juice… and juice is awesome. Because you drink it. You can be both hydrophobic and still live long enough to survive the crazy cock rampage. And most importantly, take photos to cherish the memory. That’s why we have camera phones… besides taking selfies of course.



Just the other day it hit me; I can’t possibly be the nicest of guys… humans if I must add, I’m not even trying. Plus I crave things that only a few indulge in, like extreme violence, like bodog fighting. Not as a participant of course. No, I er… ahem. I’m what you might call a spirited spectator? Eased back into the sofa in the comfort of my own home with a consistent supply of beer, friends, and good vibes that’s what it is. The beer thing is actually crucial. Also, throw in a bunch of girls. I don’t care who’s reading this, I’m single. Shout out to my day one niggas; Ty, Po, the Dakos, Tin-Tin, Chambers, Taata Michelle, Ndi, Capitalz, French, Red, Tony, the ervs… damn, is that all?

So I had one of the girls question me about my alcohol intake not more than a month ago. I believe the question was a staggering attempt to get me to open up about certain things in my life. God knows she cares. She’s friends with my ex, you know… the one. And on occasion I feel like the pressure of keeping us both is tearing her apart, ripping right open her unblemished heart while leaving bitter afterthoughts. I know a thing or two about that. Certain people shouldn’t have to go through the harsh realities of life to get a grip on thongs. *Read things. And if my continual life in the screw up has taught me anything it’s that sometimes it’s better not to get involved. I love this girl. I really do… I know I do. But I also like, love these three other girls from work and I think the little one knows. Anyhoo, looking at what her friend and I have become, I choose not to act upon such feelings. And isn’t that love at it’s peak… in it’s purest form? Forget Romeo & Juliet, I say; if you love somebody, and in your heart you know they’ll hurt from it, then don’t let it be. It’s that simple. The world could use one less heartbreak. Make that two. I’ll be the constant. You see, I don’t even hold the belief that perhaps somewhere out there, in the vastness of this universe and beyond, there drifts a version of me that hasn’t been hurt. I’m at peace with what I am.

I tell myself that perhaps I don’t deserve normal, good beings… like I’m evil or something. I ask myself; “…if I couldn’t keep her, (or any other for that matter) nice and all kind hearted, how or most importantly why should I keep trying?” Funny thing is, I’m too weak to act. Or more specifically… to not act. I’m a coy, lonely screwup that cares about nothing but his gigidys. There, I had to say it. Quagmire did, why can’t I? *Peter_Griffin

Now back to the matter at hand. Have you ever flunked that one test or interview which you know with every nerve in your body you should have aced, partly because you needed it? How did that make you feel… dejected perhaps? I know, it’s highly disconcerting. Even when you try to kick it with a bunch of friends later on in the program you feel beat, like totally. Now, you know how sometimes you just have to pick on a random character to make your real friends proud and yourself even better? Well this… this is “One Of Those Times” #OOTT

So here I was in the most random place on earth- Mbarara. It’s actually a pretty decent town but who cares with everyone else demanding city status. It was at a fair hour I must admit, lining outside Standard bank when my buddy Andre tapped me by the arm, pulling on my (label undefined) shirt, prompting me to give up my spot in the queue. He wouldn’t rest his lips so I had to ask; “Buddy, hey?”
Andre: Hey Marvo Man* kawabuzire?
Me: Ahh, guy kandimu?
Andre: Tompa ha Ssente shi?
Me: Kandi zirahe?
Andre: Blah…
Me: Blah, blah.
Andre: Haza BTW omukazi wawe ariyo nazakuswerwa.

NOTE: Don’t hope to get google to translate any of this crap. You know that big slap of zero results found? Yeah you better. Cause that’s what you’ll get.

Completely thrown by Andre’s allegations, I had to be certain I wasn’t reading his lips wrong. To this date I doubt he ever realized I was wearing earphones that entire time. I kind of stitched them to my skin you see. So I asked him to be a little bit specific, as I unplugged both phones. Well of course not that directly. Here;

Me: Oha shi guy? *as I pretended to scratch my lobes. (Ingenious, I know)
Andre looking equally surprised replied; “Tokumumanya sh’iwe?”
Me: Hahaha, nyine bingyi guy (I don’t. I don’t though).

It was at that point that he pulled out his cellular device (poor thing) and unbundled the rubber bands that held it together, showing me a blurry picture of someone I knew from my more juvenile years. I could have sworn I saw a toddler in there too but that’s just me. You shouldn’t believe everything I put up here.

Speechless, well not entirely of course… I sent him off with a sweet; “Oh, I have this thing with the guys later, we’ll talk” when we were done.

Meanwhile, my mind must have been screaming nuts and pie all the way home. My Boda guy says I lost it for a while when we parked/landed (or whatever it is Boda-Bodas do nowadays- long story) by hotel Kash, emotions and shit. But I was like; “That tends to happen when I forget the ATM card at home.” And even though I don’t own one of those, I spanned the lie rather skillfully. The truth is, I had but one thought the entire time. Thought being; “I knew the prospects were bleak but really..? He thought it’d be alright to let me know… that mother f…” *Everything else is pretty much hush hush. I couldn’t put it up here, you understand. Plus, I fancy myself a gentleman of sorts.

The end.
To not be continued.


Things I don’t put on Facebook

NP – Jay Rock Ft. Kendrick Lamar, Ab-Soul and ScHoolboy Q – Vice City

Pineal – There’s a muscle within each of us, you see. Segregated against … sanctified of truth and of purpose by those we uphold in leadership roles … and thus, unworthy of cogitation by the average 21st Century being. The same being writes this now – with thoughts yet to be validated, and segregated against. Or even admired as such … etc, etc. The cycle is endless, seemingly unfathomable like Wenger’s facial scalp (of all things). The same scalp from which most rich people have persistently kept away that which doesn’t truly belong – like the pattern their back-head-flesh makes when they turn their gaze to the heavens after meals so exotic, that they don’t truly belong… to thank God for fortunes he didn’t exactly avail … if at all he does, or so I think.

“Ask yourself; is that extra meal on your table really worth it when somebody else out there, closer than you’d hate to admit, lays starved throughout this cold, austerity weather?” What have we become? Alien to one another, comfortable in isolation … or more so, our own friends? “Humanity – for all the might we are, lets be just that.”

8 days ago – About Friends

We are accorded equalled right to in-deference, but we do not have the right to get messed up individually.

“You’re friends with people only until they start missing out on jokes. Here; watch me lose a couple more on this one.” (I never posted this before cause I’d hate to bleed more friends). (And there’s the bleeding heart every ex admires). I can tell y’all’re being judgmental right now but before we go any further, know this; “that was a joke… a very bad one at that.” There’s no light at the end of the tunnel to walk towards if you’ve been missing out on jokes and thereafter, spreading false facts about your mates. There’s only pain, suffering, shitty music, and bad beer. And also NEYO – who coincidentally is all of the above. And perhaps a one, Victor Frankenstein? I would never have written that correctly without predictive text, you know. So, thank you technology – on occasion of course. 7 days ahead I intend to publish this … with more relevance to tech.

Just yesterday – So listen, I’m going through some pretty amazing things, things that keep me, bind me from most social relations but I have to write every once in a while, to lay off steam just for the sake of it. And as I’m soon to always quote; a long-ass update @ week keeps the “missing persons'” report away. I hate to worry some of you here, (with emphasis on some) so here’s something I wrote and/or compiled in my more amiable moods – a wake, on the right side of bed if I must emphasize it. A weekly exclusive of all my mischievous run-ins as they precisely occurred, that I intend to run as a blog … as I just have … in my better spirited moods. And yeah, they often swing but mostly to the left – the moods, I mean. Besides, I’m right handed so I guess that explains half of it.

Here; I’ve type-searched ebony quite a lot in the past month alone that my keyboard predictively brings up ANC as a suggestion for lively ants. And I can prove it. But what is that; lively ANC? These things – these so called “smart-phones” aren’t that smart, I tell you. I’m serious. Just the other day I had Comfort call me death … predictively by her own “smart-phone” if I should believe it. But just yesterday I also walked behind these two, really hot girls and didn’t stare at their butts, if you even believed it. Anyhoo, she supposed it so I guess I’ll just have to believe her. But that doesn’t ease my frustration, not for a single bit. I must also report that the guy seated in front of me is chewing gum rather too loudly. I can’t see why that’s annoying but I’ll go ahead and rant about it. Perhaps next time.

You see, lately I’ve taken to wearing stockings indoors (shudder). This might or might not have inference to the works of Buddhist monks on restoring balance to one’s life, which I’ve insanely indulged in these past few weeks. It so happens that ranting, which is one of the issues I intend to counter, comes so naturally to me. Even though I wasn’t always bully bait as a youngster, that part of me needn’t ANC. You see? I do that a lot. To reiterate; it comes so naturally to me. Like eating, or say complaining, or even fisting to um … those other beings.

3 days ago, time unclear:

Fell asleep with my Facebook open a while ago, and I’m glad to announce that I’ve successfully uploaded my subconscious onto the WWW. Pretty cool stuff, except for the math. And what douche codes an entire language in ones and zeros?! I’d go ahead to hypothesize on the matter if I hadn’t just shared the perfect example.