the blog.

The Naked Truth…Albert's Story

My name’s Albert and my honesty will be the death of me. Then again, my name is not really important, but the fact remains, honesty is a bitch and she is out to get me. That is, if the pounding in my head doesn’t finish me off first… or whatever is on the other side…

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i did not sign up for this; a detective’s story

I glance at my phone with disgust. If someone said these things were the best thing to happen to the digital world, they would improve our lives… Someone lied. All it’s been doing lately is causing me grief. Like now, for instance. It’s not like I wanted to do this shit in the first place….

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The End Is Nigh…

Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty; we are free at last. The yoke of Big Brother will drop. No more shall we miss class and meals for want of entertainment from the part of Africa southern. No more brothers’ big, no more squirrels Angolan. No more Nigerian Women of virtues questionable… wait…

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A Break, Commercial in Nature…

Dear All I had heard something about it, but now it is clear – the Ugandan Bloggers’ Happy Hour won the 1st Prize in the MS Democracy Film Competion. What I really like about the judges’ argumentation is that they appriaciated a ‘different’ image of Africa, compared to the usual. Not because of the film’s technical…

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The man in the mirror

I look at my reflection, at the man staring back at me. The man I have become. He is a stranger. No recognition there. I look away, pained. How did it come to this? An impulse to break the mirror registers. Briefly. The truth, the sad truth is there is no way I am going…

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Big Brother Africa 2: The End is at Hand

Jessica Alba is without a doubt the hottest being on earth. The rest are mere mortals. What? I have a life outside Big Brother and it features pretty hot Hollywood vixens unobtainable in nature… oh, Jessica. And now we return to our regularly scheduled programming… The Moles are in the house, but wait. Did anyone…

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…my head hurts…

My head’s throbbing. I don’t why. But it is. It hurts like a bitch. How that makes sense is beyond me, I won’t even try to make sense of it. It will just add more weight to the pulsing that’s going on in my cranium. Haha, cranium. I like to use big words. Why settle…

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…so there was this costume party, right…

If there’s anything I have learnt from the whole “plan-my-party” thing, its that I hadn’t considered one small thing. If I had, the whole thing would have read, “Plan & Host My Party for me while I sit back and have a blast.” What happened was this, I played the part of headless chicken with…

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