I have what identifies as a hangover, but is really a needy headache. I figure if I keep playing dumb, it will pack its bags and leave…perhaps in search of a more accommodating host. As it is right now, it has seemingly inherited the undesirable traits of a clingy needy stalker.
the blog.
Of moon-writing and stuff
I’m back. I don’t know how long for, but hopefully I’m going to make this stick. Worst case scenario, I’ll likely do a post a week, the way I see it, this ought to give me a chance to vent and get back to being a normal person. Except that I’m not necessarily a normal…
an abandoned post
The fastest thing about this place was the way Microsoft Word opened. Not much else could rival the speed with which Gates’ popular word processor sprung to life, blank page in front of you begging you to have your way with it. Were I a painter and this before me, were my canvas, I’d be…
With love,your Hangover
I’m not one to speak. My usual approach is to just sit there and be talked about or, depending on how I feel at a particular time, have death threats sent my way. Don’t feel bad on my account, these threats never amount to anything and I stick around for quite a bit. Your friends…
The android diaries; The meeting
You hear a lot of talk about different phone operating systems and think, “who cares, a phone is a phone. all i want to do is text and call” For a while that’s true, then you develop a nasty case of touch envy and you keep going home to your little corner, sit on the…
Elections were held…now what?
Now that we have voted, we can pat ourselves on the collective back. See, it doesn’t even matter whether your candidate took the biscuit. What’s important is that you are now, for lack of a better word, relevant. You know those stories you hear from elderly folk about how they participated in some sort of…
REVISIT: Because Big Brother is coming back
Sorry people, couldn’t come up with something for BBA, but hey, we can walk down memory lane, right? Okay, let’s shoot this puppy. This is Big Brother, Munya, please report to the diary room. I repeat, Munya, please report to the diary room, er, pretty please with a cherry on top. Munya: Hi Big Brother, what’s…
Who do I have to sleep with: To get a road named for me
Here’s the thing. It used to be the important people that would get titles bestowed upon them. Stuff like Sir Apollo Kaggwa, Saint Balikuddembe, Earnest Bazanye… you get the idea, and we were okay with that. They deserved these titles. Then an interesting thing happened (well, ‘interesting’ is relative, just go with it) people started…
Blogger's say the darndest things
First off, between you and I, I’m not sure that’s the spelling of that word up there. I ran a google search for it and it seemed okay. Thing is, google is frequently trawling the interwebs and stocks it’s results with stuff like, ‘kandahar’ ‘babylon’ vuvuzela’ and Zuena.
The New Place. The Clinic
You’d think moving to a new place would mean a fresh start. See, my lifestyle may have been upgraded somewhat, but my immunity’s still a bitch. How was your Christmas Day? I got off to a decent enough start. You know, the sporadic load-shedding that suggests someone at the power company is sending you signals…