Does the Spade really care what we call it.

I once mentioned that love, more often than not, feels like a superficial jiggery-pokey which culminates into a sweet excuse for teenagers to have sex. And let’s not have a cajoling debate on how people fancy the act of canoodling. People simply love coitus, people love getting randy, people will roll in the sack regardless of the current Nairobi weather and they won’t owe you an apology for their big bang theory. If you take offence in people assaulting each other with their friendly weapons while bruising their own beef curtains, then let me welcome you to Sodom and Gomorrah because a myriad of souls are indulging in aggressive cuddling and amorous congresses as we speak. If you were brought up in a family set up that considered sex a taboo then they might have referred to it as Adult naptime, Act of darkness or Afternoon delight. Your pick, but at the end of the day, the masses will be fidgeting the midget in Bridget. They don’t have to be making babies, but they will be making love for sure. Is it now safe to say that genuine love is brewed in its purest form after locking legs and swapping meat sauce?

Baby fever is the latest “illness” creeping into the fairer sex fraternity while men are butchering their fellow men for asking them when they will get married. More baby showers are emerging by the hour and I can’t help but have genuine questions crisscrossing my mind each time am invited for a baby shower. I always feel like I should carry premium white towels and certified Dettol Soap to wash her now acquired generous belly because am not even worthy to wash that mother’s feet! She will be seated on her queenly seat wearing her pregnancy like a badge of honor. Then upon arrival I will find other species like me overly enthused by the tummy full of life and kicks. I will be standing by the door dangling my huge heart of amusement at how an overzealous sperm ended up ballooning with so much life. I will then take a few strides towards the mother to be, wearing the striking smile of a Chris Rock joke, yoke my hand with hers in a celebratory cum congratulatory mood. I will look her straight in the eye and silently wonder, this person actually had intercourse? Then I will feel irrevocably awkward for congratulating a friend for having sex! Makes me wish I could get the once in a lifetime chance to compliment the father too, for partaking in the mystery dance that cleaned the cobwebs with his womb broom. That man deserves a standing ovation for his standing ovation not letting him down. See, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a man to grapple with the possibility of his infertility.

Excruciating levels of cold has smothered the city of the sun to unfathomable extremes. The floods are here and you can bet no lady has been swept out of any relationship. Thanks to the prevailing weather condition, I haven’t heard any woman burning with furor shouting to the rooftops on how Men are dogs. But that is not to say all men have the liberty and direct tickets to decorate their lady’s interior. This can be attributed to the fact that some ladies will leave the house exposing hectares of skin for the cold’s consumption, but will treat you like a moon because they will come to bed dressed like astronauts. At this point you think you don’t have the slightest clue about what life is. But there is hope, a man can actually get an opportunity to enjoy some quality time with his wife in this smartphone era. If you really want to save your relationship, you either bathe with your phone or bathe with your wife.

Valentines happened and as expected, the day was awash with flowers, less power bills because candles were lit, outrageous hotel bills worth my rent and liver and more bed power to ignite relationships that rely solely on firewood to spark off its fireworks. Isn’t it so amazing how you choose to saliently spread your arm and offer a lady a bouquet of flowers on 14th February or any other day, only for her to ask in an implied form if she now has to spread her legs? Then you have to ask her why she has to spread her legs after being offered flowers! Doesn’t she have a flower vase? You wonder. When will they understand that you cannot feed a donkey only when you need to ride it. This man probably dished out that chaste reply to cherish karma. That man probably met a lady somewhere who saw his fly open and while looking at him dead in the eye said, “Excuse me but your garage is open”. The dude probably gave a holy smirk and asked, “Oooh did you see my Boeing 777 in there?” The lady gave a brutal screamer reply saying, ”No! Just saw a Toyota Ractis with two flat tyres. At this point, as a man, you feel like Wentangula who gets clobbered by his wife and announces to taxpayers how the love of his life is savage. Like it’s biggest poaching story.

As you squander your borrowed time on earth, let it be known that people will call you names deliberately or inadvertently. A guy will be texting you “how are you” but their dumb smartphone autocorrects it to “hoe are you”. You will want to pray about it asking thy Lord if being a hooker is part of your career path. You will feel offended, sink into a delirium and feed the guy with a decent amount of blueticks forthwith. People will break up today and either of them might decide to let it off their chest by telling their story. If you happen to hear a bad story about me, understand that there was a time I was good to those people too but they won’t tell you that. Just like being polite is so rare nowadays it’s often confused with flirting. People pronounce my name wrong every day. But I didn’t di! If I had a dollar every time someone pronounced my name wrong, I would be in a position to rescue the Kenyan government from its alarmingly loud debt. If a woman calls you a dog, just be kind enough to remind her that all dogs go to heaven. How about you set the price and live your life.

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