Friday, July 31, 2009

BHH

It always feels like heaven spending time with bloggers. There's no need to be silent in a place where you were welcomed and none spart a curse at you. One could almost ululate at the ease that ensues, like people do at the streetside on the entry of a king.

Ever encountered a rhino revving ruthlessly at you? If no; good! For how would you come out of that alive? Anyway- the basics are simple: be deelightful, regal like a safyre but not too bright like them hip hop star blings. Let not the new faces daunt you- be calm like that princess of old- Diana. Relax, like you're a country boy; sleek like Johnny Bravo, throw in some humility, like of the Decalogue man- Moses, and be like the norm zoe life you're accustomed to.

Lisp a little, just for the fun of it- and amarth a good number of acquaintanthes. Ivantually, you'll have mastered the kasozi, reaching the blog kaalo. In all try not to miss BHH. Onto the izzy.


---------------

I strolled in with the Safyre, expecting to see lights, cameras and action, anti Lulu had promised us the nation's premier picture provider was coming to be fascinated by the intellectual guys at blogsville. On seeing the cosy comfy sitting arrangement, I thought there was a reporter among the group putting down some notes but there was none.

Spartakuss welcomed me with a hearty high five and that was the spark that got my fire burning. Don't get the wrong picture, a good welcome for anyone puts them at ease.

I think I found Rev on his knees before Heaven, I was wondering what incongruity this was till I discovered there were very no seats. And I think maybe he was practising what he might one day say to Delilah.

Basix was laid back as usual, easy on the jokes, smiling and generally suaveness just.

I am sure I have met Rhino before or not but in the crowd that day if I were to choose an appropriate rhino, it would be my man (whose name escapes) in a white shirt and English accent, plus bald head; not Rhino but well he looks like a teenage one nonetheless.

Lulu! Kale me I had been happy for you, kumbe you were pulling Schofield tricks!

People, didn't Carlo look quite the stunner in her gold and blue? Blue band gorgeousness kale. Gorgeousness runs in their family; yes Carlo, I still think she is a damsel. And talking about colors, Johnny didn't don one of his favourite blue shirts yesterday; in fact while I insist it was white, he says it was yellow!

He came along with Martha, a pleasant young woman I must say. She's not in anyway as "fanatical" as the other ladies he pimps- and I never got to understand that whole pimping thing. Johnny, care to explain? Meanwhile Antipop, how could you miss?

Cocktail craze. Johnny had one, so did Dee, I didn't notice anyone else. Cocktails have crazy names- like Pink Panther. Martha once took this but mbu her tummy refused those things, she had to see her doc after that. I do not do cocktails, I do punch. But on this evening, a Fruity was what I needed- would have dared an Alvaro but dayem- dat thing wasn't the same price it was at the Event on Garden City.

I missed that pizza. I hope it had cheese coz if it didn’t, I didn't miss anything. Safyre once told a tale of how for love's sake, those things of laying down one's life, he was immoral to the point of eating a pizza without cheese. Heinous stuff!

Normzo and Johnny are apparently roommates. I thought I knew that but let's call it secondary surprise!

There was an interesting topic Rev and Rhino were discussing. Why is the beer bottle green? Does someone set it's attributes to green or it is generally just green just coz it's green? Yah, you guessed it- God talk which made Heaven cross her hands and be silent.

Talking of Be Silent. She was never silent yesterday, always on the phone, punching in letters and listening. She seemed to be in another universe though we could see her body. And she lasted but a breath and soon after disappeared. Don't know when she went.

Some people wanted to go to Rouge. What was at Rouge? I asked King, and he said it's one of those "hangout" things. I left the matter at that.


Did Spartakuss teleport or what? One minute I see him, then next I don't.

Dante, Ivan, Ruth, Country boy, Street Sider and Sleekness seeped into the area later.

Actually, Caroszy usually comes in around 9pm and chills with the likes of Johnny and Normzo over malt drinks. Carsozy, these days I always notice your presence...lol

I was having a chat with Safyre and Carlo about her sister till they began to talk about cars. Apparently, Carlo knows a lot more than I (and many other men she knows) do about cars. I was not flowing generally with their talk so when I spotted a damsel in the distress of loneliness I jumped in to save the day!

Diana. No she was in no way dirty! She is calm, composed and dainty. Apparently she is an ardent reader on blogsville but not an active blogger. It's a condition she has called cyber shyness. In fact she said she once had a blog that lasted only three days or was it three weeks? Hope you make a comeback, if you're reading this.

For the first time since I began attending BHH, bloggers seemed to tire early. By 10:15 am most had left. Surprising few who seemed to stay longer than usual were Lulu and myself hehe.

Dee, no Baz. Ivan, no Antipop...what was that about? And Silver, why are you avoiding me?

Okay I remember all who came, like Moses, Sleek's MTN dude, Joyce*? My Indian homie with a face of a woman on his tshirt-I honestly thought these guys were asking whether your face was that of a man or woman..I didn't even know why?

Then to the two dudes who had English accents, sorry I forgot your names but thanks for coming.

Ivan I should see you having a go at the minotaur from Hades in god mode...how would you handle that?

Unfortunately people, cannot do linking today, I'm in a cafe and these keys are so hard I would need iron fingers to type comfortably. Otherwise congs to another successful BHH, see you in August. Eh, word has it that Walkonby has a barbecue at her place. Not yet got more details.

Ey, REV- Look for the Christ in Christians, if you don't, don't take offence.

Hope I mentioned everyone.

Much love, God bless.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

If you're having a bad day...

If life throws you lemon, make lemonade...

You ever heard the expression Nevolution? Well it is exclusively copyrighted. I am the only one who uses it and at this moment it is in use.

There's this thing I have...



...the contentment and peace of a baby in his mother's arms. There's that feeling you get when you stop watching over your back and letting someone else do that. It is liberating. Thank God for June, and July- surely these have been my best months of the year and I owe it to resting. Yes, resting in Abba. There's unbelievable peace when you let Him take the wheel, you guys oughta try it. There's this part where Big Bro says Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14:27)- that peace can be yours.

Sometimes we think if we have a job, no debts, a house, car, married, business etc, it is automatic that we shall have peace. Au contraire! Sometimes those things take peace away but when one rests by the brooks of the river--haha..it's beautiful. Money won't matter that much.

Sheep have this beautiful thing they do- bleating. They do not make forecasts and worry about the next hill's pasture or try and find out the snake population on their next hill- they leave that to the Shepherd. He is in control of the situation. So when hungry, they bleat, scared, they bleat, any problem- they bleat coz the Shepherd hears their bleat and takes control. They rest in the knowledge of a good shepherd.

So go on access that peace- you know how. Rest. Rest in Emmanuel. He is with us.

Offtopic: I am not demanding..



You can check this week's purple rain.

Blessings just.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Ku wikeendi nebirala (Weekend and other things)

Sometimes I love to mix Luganda with the lu naBuddu. Forgive me.

Starting with ramblings.Okay, I know that sax player may have lots of dimes naye honestly I am tired of receiving his texts! For some reason, my phone isn't often ringing or beeping with notification of incoming communication, therefore I get excited when it does because I expect it to be some friend or former friend who has finally remembered me and have decided to get in touch. However after excitedly pressing the "read" button, I see the sax player's two names and his invitation to go watch him play at some international conference center soon. Who gave him my number?! Eh? Ekisooka, 50k may look like small dimes to him, but to me that is worth 5 days' work! Not only that, it is equivalent to half a whole pig! I could roast that half with friends and stuff.

By the way is Mr Sax player still single?

Onto other things.

I was at the Xtreme 2020 event courtesy of Fluorescent and even met -,I mean Sleek of the Sleek and Wild fame. While there met the King with his Node Six crew (naye they were not six) and Walkonby. I tell you, spending time with bloggers is cool, in fact it is cooler than ice cold.

I had my first taste of alcohol in my post university days! Wait.....ahhh, Fluorescent has just let me know that it wasn't alcohol, mbu I should have read below where it said non alcoholic. Yeah, the Alvaro. So kwegamba sometimes butterflies can come out of bee hives?

It was well attended although I must say time keeping should improve. I saw a man who in my books is celeb forever- but couldn't find the wits to ask him for an autograph- Isaac Rucci...ah, I tried but the excitement was repellent to approaching the man! So I decided NEXT TIME!!

Banange there was this chick in a dress with capital D! What was she doing at the event? Eh! Too extreme! FatBoy would grin with satisfaction if he saw that girl at the event in that kind of crowd...anti no one throws stones these days.

I also saw Sleek's bike. And then saw how King ogled that bike. Things my friends-tight.

Better get back to work...will finish this post oba later...

Offtopic: Relationships may fail, but love never fails.

You don't need to stay mad

Cold rough metal piercing the rubbery skin...

i can't even finish this post...

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

The Young Paparazzi takes over my blog!

I am taking a Thursday off and leaving my blog in the hands of the Paparazzi. See you later.

YOU CAN TELL WHO DRINKS WELL

I think if I were an animal, I would be a fish. Why?

Because I love water. You need to see this huge plastic blue cup I use to gulp water at home.Oh my!

When it comes to drinking water. I take one huge gulp and I leave the throat to sort out the rest in smaller gulps.

When I don’t drink water regularly, the symptoms start showing up. Dry throats, restlessness, dry lips. It just creates me trouble. You can tell by looking at me that am not drinking well.

What water does to my body, scripture does to my soul. When I miss my morning gulp, the symptoms begin, negative thoughts, insecurities, fear and irritations. I just kind of lose myself.

I like how one writer put it “The scriptures are our letters from home”. Unfortunately, many of us give consistently to the body and not to the soul. As a result, our souls go thirsty and like the sprite soda advert says “Thirst kills my vibe” – we can’t speak inspired. “Thirst ruins my rap” – we just can’t flow

And for sure, you can tell who is drinking well; you have got of course to be drinking from the right well. That’s what Jeremiah the prophet saw when he penned.

My people have committed two sins

They have forsaken me

The spring of living water

And have dug their own cisterns (wells)

Broken cisterns that cannot hold water – Jeremiah 2:13

The last two lines are so much directed to our generation. We have dug our own wells—broken wells that cannot hold water .We pick up the newspaper to seek direction in life, guess on which page? Horoscope.

If we are in love with the remote, then Oprah answers our life questions. We can even turn to myths like yoga, meditation – all in a bid to quench our thirst. Some of us have our wells dug in Banks, we rely our accounts to fill what they can’t.

Others have their wells in relationships. Your boyfriend attempts to fill what he can’t—the eternal thirst in you. All these kill our vibe, they ruin our spiritual flow.

May you wake up tomorrow on a huge gulp. A huge gulp of Jesus whispering these words in your ear "….but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst, indeed the water I give him will become in him a spring of living water welling up to eternal life’—John 14:4.

Eddie - The Young Paparazzi.

P.S You can see her purple rain now.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Days like these

I thought I had it. I thought you had been sincere. After all, foundations are stronger over time yet it seems ours just weakened each day.

I don't believe it was you who said those venomous words to me. No it wasn't; no it couldn't; no it mustn't. You always said sorry when you hurt me- you weren't a bad person, just found yourself in bad situations sometimes. You should have said sorry but your apology never came, and I know why. Coz it couldn't, wasn't supposed to.

Your mouth was gagged and probably your heart as well- nothing could come out unchecked. All the words about me were censored coz I was evil- a hindrance to your happiness.

You never said those words, never. You wouldn't. How do I know? Coz you'd never said them. Even when you felt like hitting me, those times when I got you mad, you wouldn't. You'd just stay silent and after a while tell me what was wrong. Of course I had to beg, for you kept your hurt inside- but I was special, when I asked, you told me what was wrong. But this time I didn't ask- I knew you wouldn't give me an answer, coz your mouth was gagged.

Such words are too poisonous to have come out of your mouth. I don't believe they were yours. They didn't belong to you. They want to make you think you're cold but you're not; you're warm and sweet inside. Those words weren't yours.

Do you remember when you said you loved the way I love you? That was true-that was genuine-that was you. You said it and it came from the depths of your soul. You meant it- when you said you loved me then, and the many other times you said it. You meant it, when your big round brown eyes would stare into mine with a gleam of joy; when you'd say you loved me. Holding my arm and beaming a smile- I knew you meant it when you said you loved me.

I was like an addiction you tried to quit- you were an addiction to me as well. Remember that time when we had not spoken for four months, when out of the blue you opened your mouth? That time we walked down small paths om Kikoni and you told me you tried to forget me but that you had failed- that there was nothing like "us"; that you could only be yourself in my presence, and no other's. We were kindred spirits and nothing could take that away.

So when those words came- I refused to believe they were yours. You didn't say them coz they could have killed me; murdered me; ended me; but you would never do that. So I received them and smiled, coz I knew this was your only way out.

I know; it's okay. People are not who we think they are. So I know it was him. Yes, because he was unsure of your love. Even if it were I,I too wouldn't be. For I'm certain you kept calling him my name; kept telling him the places we had gone to and the things we had done; and though you repented each time, you'd do it again. He was not jealous, perhaps only unsure of your love.

It was bad coz you'd tell him how it was I who suggested we go to Bible Study coz there was cassava and tea; and that it was how you became a member of the Church that he joined too.

I wasn't your lover, I was your friend- but how could he be sure? So he told you to say those words. At first he demanded you call me and let me hear them from your own lips, for that would be a perfect size dagger for my heart, but you pleaded with him and told him you'd never forgive yourself so he eased on you and let you send the text.

I sensed your desperation in the texts. Your silent pleas for help but I couldn't help you. It was your decision. It was either him or I and you couldn't give up on your tall, dark, and handsome.

So it's okay. I moved on. I know those words had to be said to let me off. Yet when I think that they could be true- that I am the one person you regret most ever meeting-I cringe in self doubt.

It is 4 months since you denounced me. I thought I would be stronger now, yet when she talked about her ex, I also began to think of mine...

Monday, July 20, 2009

When to say the F Word!

Wandering thoughts
Sometimes he wonders why she cries all by herself, especially when it rains- looking at the clear drops sliding down her window. He can see the tears falling in unison with the raindrops on her window...why?
Why is she still lonely, when he is there?
...

Sometimes he sits and ponders on her words-
What do they mean?
She says them with such joy that they ought to be true,yet they don't sound true.
He has a volcano of emotion in his chest which he tries hard to control lest she
think he's too desperate, too scared to think that it will vanish like a vapour. Why is he still lonely when she is there?
...


Onto other things
When to say the F word!

When you realise that wasn't powdered milk in your cup...
When the brake fails on a steep slope ...
When you enter the interview room and realise you did not brush your hair...
When you send the "I miss you " letter to a wrong phone number (her best friend's)...
When you have spent your last money to get to Kabale and remember she said Mbale.

Always a perfect time to say Father!!

Great week.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Jackson Muwanguzi's life

If you're like me, then you know that it is indeed possible to go one entire night living in a parallel universe. In this universe you are 39 and married to a beautiful woman with three kids-two boys and a girl, living in England. You own a studio flat and a big flat from where you get some income in addition to having equity shares.

You are learning how to sail as well as playing golf and taking part in quiz games once in a while.

Not only that, you make trips to several countries, especially when the Premiership is over and watch international matches being played by Brazil.

But it's not that sweet you know, because your schedule can become very tight especially with your bosses breathing down your neck to deliver results. They have provided the cash and now it is up to you to start making the gold.

However, the bosses are not your only problem. You have your subordinates who you should train and motivate well so that they can give you good results. Their hard work is a must for you to deliver the results needed by the boss. They are not the only ones whose pressure you must deal with though; there are the consumers who demand the highest quality because as a matter of fact they pay whatever you ask for your goods and services.

You rarely rest because you are there personally supervising the production of the goods, giving instructions, correcting, motivating the workers, criticising some, praising etc

However, when the result of your hard work is good and excellent, you are refreshed with delight, a bonus to the cheque that goes promptly into your bank account.

Your peers in rival companies sometimes try to distract your work saying bad things about your style of work, your ethics and the like but you stay focused and keep delivering. Other companies' bosses tempt you at times with big offers, promising you all the resources you need- you almost accepted once but then changed your mind.

Yes some of your best workers have gone but your determination and style has never changed. Your spirit is steadfast.

This post could easily have been about Arsene Wenger but truth of the matter is, it's about Jackson Muwanguzi, the Manager of Arsenal football club and Brazil on my EA SPORTS FIFA 09 Manager.

He is why I didn't sleep the other night.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Sleeping in your grave.

This is from http://www.oddee.com/item_96623.aspx



The Casket Furniture Company designed a bed for those who wants to know the feeling of sleeping in a coffin. According to their site, this ‘long awaited' item can be yours for only a little over $4,000. It’s constructed of Solid Pine with a removable top and bottom and adorned with a handmade metal cross and gothic pall bearer handles. Finished with an ebony stain and lacquer with a burgandy velvet interior. Disturbingly, their site also indicated ‘locks and latches' are available at an added price.


I died!....

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Is he really gone?

I wished at some point that we would see Ashton Kutcher appearing on all screens broadcasting the service, and say "You've been punk'd- the King ain't dead- this is the curtain raiser for the 50 concerts..." but we never did see that.

Or that it would go dark, and the casket would open and out the King of Pop would emerge to give fans a preview of the O2 concerts, but alas, it never happened.

Tears were mixing, some of joy and some of grief, all in all, tears wear flowing.

I watched the last rehearsal at the Staples Center and denied this man was dead. No, it could not be. He was the King... it was his final act, and after that he would go in peace. But nay, his final act never came.

He looked so alive, so dedicated, so passionate, so full, he was still excellent at 50.

I still can't imagine he's no more...

Been trying to download some of my favourite tracks of the legend, to try and keep a piece of him with me, but they are only images...I sense he is truly gone.

In his respect I thus write this poem:

Never get Used to

We must never get used to the day
Lest the evening comes, and the sun goes away;
When we bemoan the unfriendly silver moon
Whose light is not as warm as yellow sun.

We must never get used to the sun
Les the clouds come and darken the terrain;
When we scatter from the piss of the sky
Unable to smile or laugh but only to sigh.

For if night fell and none was prepared
No candles or lamps or handy flares,
Then cold and dark and deep despair
Would rise and hold us in his lair.

And rain would fall upon our heads
And wet our flour and wet our bread,
Washing all we treasure away-
Dust to mud, ashes to clay.

So when our Michael goes today
Leaving his gold and toys of play,
We must hope the sun does set
To rise and shine in glory yet.

But one Sun in your life remain
Perfect LORD, of ancient days,
Affix your gaze to Him alone
And reap of joy and peace unknown.

Nice Wednesday

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Week's randomnevies

There's a new lady that brings lunch for me and is she interesting. Me and the one who used to bring lunch jazz in Luganda so no one had a problem. So me I speak Luganda coz I'm comfortable with it and I speak it with whoever I am sure is comfortable with it. So this lady comes; one look at her and I am sure she can speak the language. Not only that the one who used to bring the food has brought her for introductions- she will be taking over. Me I delve right into my Luganda and guess what, she turns to English! Hmm? Odd! Why speak English when Luganda is obviously easier. For you. I first heed and speak with her in English but after some time go back to Lugy. No sooner have I spoken two phrases atleast than she interjects in English! Eh eh...laba omuwala!

Anyway, that is the least of my week's crazy moments. Nga I declare Tuesday evening Transformers' night at cineplex. I even call my ka friend mbu I take her out for a movie. I hooked up with Safyre and headed to Garden City. All was well because I had planned 12k expense, and if any further-20k. So we head to the box office and guess what...mbu due to restrictions, half price won't apply to Transformers! Ayii!! Should I go back? But the ka-friend is coming. I can't turn movie plot into evening walk plot. Thank God I moved with Safyre and atm otherwise....

This question is directed to all the ladies.Is it true that when a guy asks you out you decide mbu he has fallen for you? There's this chick giving me headaches.