It’s been a while.

I’d love to say I’ve been very busy. That life has been hectic and as such I have failed to do what I love doing, but that would be a lie. I’ve been lazy mostly. I’ve also done my fair share of procrastinating. However, life being what it is, you can only drag your feet for so long. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to look in the mirror and if you’re lucky you’ll not be too crazy about the guy staring back at you.

You will realize, as I have that some sort of change is needed. It will be pretty messed up though, because as many before me will attest, change doesn’t come with a snap of a finger, a click of a heel or a twitch of the nose. It would be pretty neat if that’s how stuff worked, but life has other plans for us…and it can be a bitch.

I looked at myself and looked within. Wasn’t too crazy about what was happening, but I made my peace with the fact that what’s done is done. I can’t do much to change it, but I can do something now so that when I do the whole soul searching thing a few years/months/weeks/days from now, I’ll acknowledge that this is where it started, this is the beginning. Change is coming.

And now, if it’s all the same to you, I will close that window. You can only peer into the soul of a person for so long before you fall into the void.

I still want to get a tattoo. I have told people this so that I don’t need to explain myself when I finally get it done. There’s probably nothing as annoying as having someone go like, “You got a tattoo? I didn’t think you were the kind…”

So, yeah, I am the kind. I want to get a tattoo and its going to take lots to convince me not too. Your argument better be way better than the one given to me not too long ago. It went something like this…

“No! Do not get a tattoo”

At which point I, as you probably would, asked, “why not?”

His reply, “No, no, no!”

I don’t mind the Destiny’s Child jam, but it better make sense when you spring it on me in the middle of an argument, so- STRIKE ONE!

“Why shouldn’t I get one?”

I actually want him to go all self-righteous on me. Tell me if I get a tattoo I will go to hell…and listen to music by Mariam Ndagire. See, if he had done that, I would have told him about some New Zealand tribe that does it as a rite of passage and all. Then I’d ask him whether they too would be resigned to an eternity of listening to Mariam Ndagire’s excuses for songs.He doesn’t…

“Those things are for mad people.”

Are you kidding me? This is the big argument? Mad people have tattoos! I rest my case your honour! STRIKE TWO! …and then to seal the deal, “Me, I wouldn’t get one!” STRIKE 3!

Bet you said the same thing when peeps were lining up and getting lives.

Listen, I am not being all defensive or big headed (I was born that way, so that comes quite easily to me, the whole big head thing…) but if you want to reason with me, have the decency to come at me with something sensible. Shit, I will make an allowance, your argument can even go thus…

“Why shouldn’t I get a tattoo?”

You- “Just!”

I appreciate a “just” once in a while.

And the annoying thing is, you can’t seriously expect to sway me with the argument that our forefathers have been handing down since forever. It’s as old as the “I walked to school” schtick. I feel for you and your feet, but pick up a calendar dude! The times, they have changed.

That’s not to say that all the arguments against have been crappy. Some made sense. Like how it can cost you a job.

Piece of advice appreciated, I will make sure it is in some hidden location…or wear clothes to work depending on how I feel on that particular day.

The thing that vexes me about this whole skin painting business is the fact that I am not a light skinned individual. Its going to be pretty hard to show off the damn thing.

“Look, look, I can has a tattoos!”

Where?

“There, look harder!”

Is that a birth mark shaped like a spider…?

“Huh? Oh yeah, now look below that!”

Is that a scar?

“NO! That is the tattoo!”

In other news, I got bounced from Club Silk’s Lounge section. I have a theory involving my cousin and a “bouncer”. It’s not sexual in nature, so it’s probably not worth putting down on this blog…or any blog for that matter.

How it went down.

I got in with my pals and barely five minutes later, this dude comes over and says I am “needed” outside. Note the use of the word “needed”. He didn’t say, we don’t want you in here, come with me if you want to leave!” None of that, which means that, contrary to popular belief, these dudes do have some grey matter in that structure resting on their shoulders.

Upon going outside, they asked me for some form of identification. I regret not having whipped out my NSSF card seeing as it shows that at some point in my life I contributed to building the nation and as such consider myself worthy to partake of whatever it offers…in skirts short and glasses transparent.

Having failed to present required ID, the “bouncer” proceeded to use words I am certain he has been dying to use ever since he left “Bouncer High”. “Management Reserves The Right of Admission”

I respect management, and I proceeded to tell him so. All I wanted was an opportunity to speak to Mr. Management and be told why exactly I had been singled out for this.

It soon became apparent that the grey matter I alluded to earlier was on loan and he had returned it after pulling me out of the club.

The conversation the back and forth kind wherein he insisted that Management Reserved blah blah blah and that Management was not there and then that he was in fact the management. I’ve had CDs that skipped less than this dude’s conversation.

Anyway, I settled for Silk Royale which was pretty boring that night…

I told you I went to Kigali, right? No? Well okay, here goes, shortly before I brought Dorothy back (see previous post) I was in Rwanda.

I was pretty psyched about this trip because I figured it would give me a chance to unwind with total disregard to what people may say given that I would approach a simple, “I don’t know you, I don’t care” attitude. Plus there was the draw of the WOMEN!

One of the people I went with insists that the only reason I thought they were sooooo hot, was because I was in a foreign place and new things are always awesome. That is not true. I really doubt that I will get turned on by Club Pa Lui or Sway anytime soon.

Kigali has its beautiful parts. The city, I mean. It’s kind of a shocker when you get there by bus though. See, when you arrive at the bus park and look around its kinda slummy, but when you move further into the city, it’s pretty decent.

But it’s COLD.

Or at least it was while I was there. What I find pretty annoying is the fact that I asked before leaving about the country. None of the advice I got prepared me for the cold.

“So I’m going to Kigali for like a weekend, what do I need to know?”

• Shit is really expensive… carry loads of money
• It gets boring; carry something to amuse you, like an Iphone. Or a picture of Straka…or, if you’re really ambitious, carry a picture of Straka on your Iphone…if it will fit.
• Do not step on their grass!

Notice how no one pointed out that it was cold that side? I realize it may not be as cold as where some of you are, but for ****’s sake, this is Africa. People come here to escape the cold!

Is it just me or is there something very wrong with going to the nightclub JUST to work up a sweat?

Yes, it is true, stuff back there is a little pricey. The cheapest stuff would be cigarettes and beer. Speaking of, there’s an Ofwono beer! And it doesn’t come in a brown bottle!! Awesomeness just!

Also, the drugs (medicine, Cheri!) are a tad overpriced. You know something is not right when Charcoal Tablets actually have neat packaging. Someone actually went out of their way and branded charcoal! What gives?

Its also true that it gets boring. Life is a little slow back there, so yeah…

And for crying out loud, DO NOT STEP ON THE GRASS! … This should say something, right? People get rushes of adrenaline by stepping on the beautiful grass in the city…Lovers declare their undying love and prove it by stepping on grass. Cows get shot for eating grass…I think. I didn’t actually see any cows while I was there.

I feel obliged to explain the title of this post…

I had loads of things to say so I harvested the ideas then combined ‘em into this thing that I’m sure even Dennis Matanda will think is too long.

BITE ME!