June 23, 2008

How I rate

I personally do not think i should be let to write, especially for the sake of other people's sanity and this is what some website thought of my blog?

blog readability test



Other not so genius blogger hide out over here

June 17, 2008

...I am a godmother. Yes, there are people out there who would not only let me within touching distance to their children, they put their children's life in the line of fire by making me a guardian - just in case they (parents) do what I'll tell you in a few minutes. The world has become such a bad place, I'm now being considered a good influence to babies. The reward? I get to spoil other people's children while pretending that they're mine, and get give them back when they start competing with wolves at night. During the day, new baby Ry looks like this (actual picture of Ry - pretending to be - asleep)>>>






And during the night, he sounds something like this...


...without the musical notes and not nearly as delightful as the moon, notwithstanding the fact the Baby Ry was less than 36 hours when he making that (utterly awful) sound. I just had a thought. To punish Simon Cowell, (for reasons unbeknown to me. It just sounds nice - punish and Simon Cowell in the same sentence), some idle producer with money to waste (also called Ryan Seacrest) should produce a reality show called ' Baby's Got Talent', and have Simon judge it. And to make it even better, he should judge it all by himself.

Babies do not understand any Earth language and any Cowellism would be wasted on them. It's come to my absent attention that he already has strategies to insult them more than he does with adults, and instead of saying thing like -

"I applaud you that you didn't do a ballad, which I would have expected. However, it was a little bit like a Chihuahua trying to be a tiger, insomuch as it's not really you."

His producers (a.k.a Ryan Seacrest)has consulted with professional advisors (read Janice Dickinson and Denise Richards) as to how best to approach the language barrier. Those combined great minds have come up with this -

How so ever creative. He has taken an incredibly, utterly forgettable sign and made it his own. Round one goes to Cowell. I would watch that show. It would replace this guy as my favourite man of all time,

who apparently has this huge airstrip on top of his head.


Gimme a minute to collect my composure... wooooosa.....wooooosa, there, where was I?

Oh, babies and godmothers...

Also, i get to bring them up if their parents decide that they've had enough and go jump from the Hollywood sign. Yes, when i have such thoughts about my friends, I make them as glamorous as possible. Helps kill the guilt. This is specially made even more dramatic, considering how hard it is to get a US visa if you are Kenyan - or any other country that sounds like it could be close to Africa, like Mongolia. Not to make fun of the conditions, but i did, at one time, think that Mongoloids are people from Mongolia. Wonder if they have a US embassy in Mongolia? Mmh, gotta check. Even when you are going to see family, you have to prove that your parents who are in the US of A can also support you, and if they are citizens by virtue of Green card, forget it about that visa. If being a citizen on Green card is that bad, why give them out in the first place? I don't have much love for the US, largely to do with their foreign policies, supported by the most ignorant people this earth has the unfortunate task of housing.

Of course there's those few that are ashamed to be called Uncle Sam's products, and have stepped out of their fucking ignorance and come down their stupid plastic high horses... and those are mighty jolly good fellows to be with and around. I have never gotten over a fellow blogger chatting me on yahoo meesager and expressing his astonishment at the fact that i know how to use a computer.. and that we actually do have computers here.

This post was meant to be a tribute to baby Ry...

More on Simon Cowell / Denise Richards / Seacrest's new show here

June 11, 2008

Just so we're clear...before we get so far,


My sexy self

June 06, 2008

That is why a firewall is important.




Save this one for Sunday


Have a fab weekend!

So I went to a store that sells husbands where a woman may go to choose a husband from among many men. The store is composed of 6 floors, and the men increase in positive attributes as the shopper ascends the flights.

There is, however, a catch. As you open the door to any floor you may choose a man from that floor, but if you go up a floor, you cannot go back down except to exit the building.

So I walk in.

On the first floor the sign on the door reads:

Floor 1 - These men have jobs.
I read the sign and say to myself, "Well, that's better than my last boyfriend, but I wonder what's further up?" So up I go.

The second floor sign reads:

Floor 2 - These men have jobs and love kids.

I remark to myself, "That's great, but I wonder what's further up?" And up I go again.

The third floor sign reads:

Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking.

"Hmmm, better" I say. "But I wonder what's upstairs?"

The fourth floor sign reads:

Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking and help with the housework.

"Wow!" I exclaim, "very tempting. BUT, there must be more further up!" And again I head up another flight.

The fifth floor sign reads:

Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak.

"Oh, mercy me! But just think... what must be awaiting me further on?" So up to the sixth floor I go.

The sixth floor sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 6,875,953,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please.

This post was inspired by The Journey Man before i stole it and posted it here.

...if you will support me. No I do not want you to stage a demonstration. Although something like this in my honour i would not say no to.

I know a couple of guys tried to do that in for me (bless them).

I know you are dying to find out if i went out on that date. Well, just drop dead.

Back to fluffing. I know, i know, you can scroll back and stare later. This is obviously directed to the females and gays here. As for the rest, you can hate and move on. I do allow hatin' here as long as it is founded. A man hatin on another very hot man is okay...he got what you'll never have. I know you are also interested to know who I'm fluffing, you dirty minded <insert insult here>

I just discovered No nofollow movement. When I really want to understand something, i ask a person to explain it to me like I'm a 5-year old. It works. you should try and credit me while at it.

So I'm going to do the same with you.

Somewhere in your html is a gnome that adds a 'nofollow' extension to all posting on your blog from external sources. Yep, all those comments and links backs that other very nice bloggers leave you are considered aliens in your blog.

We all, (okay, most of us) want other people to comment on our blogs, even when we have said nothing important. (all words between 'our blogs' and 'nothing important' were typed under hypnosis by the 'nofollow' demons).

Commenting on other people's blogs helps you establish external links to your blog, which i heard is good for your blog's rankings, for those who care about rankings. Those who blog just to be heard, you might want to be heard by more people...i think, i don't know really.

If you're worried about spamming, you can remove the 'no follow' on the comments and not on backlinks. Bearing in mind that my departed goldfish Brian (see here why he is departed) was my Personal Assistant as he had a higher memory capacity than i have, I will stop pretending to give you and take you to the real teacher. Yes, I'm fluffing the teacher. Off you go for your lesson on 'no follow'.

Oh, before you go, (i hated it when my teacher said that) something for all Blogger users:

Did you know that posting a comment using Google/ Blogger ID does not help you get a link back to your blog? No sire! It links back to your Blogger Profile which is really useless. (well, not all that useless). So, next time you post a comment, and you come to the 'Choose Identity' part, ignore the Google/ Blogger, ignore the Open ID associated BS and select Name / URL. That enables you to key in your blog url... cool huh? I'm sure there are instructions for wordpress users somewhere, i just wasn't bothered to look. Sorry guys.

Homework - leave me a comment, lets see if you understood the above. I will visit you and give you extra coaching, (if you know what i mean)

So, that it for today. I have actually given advice on blogging! I will name this day a holiday for all Dark Angel's descendants.

Now go!

When I steal..

... I do let you know that I have. Today's post is stolen from a funny guy Papua New Guinea. Yep, I go that far.


Here goes...


When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend.


When I was 16 I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion, so I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.


In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.


When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.


When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn’t keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but direction-less. So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.


When I turned 30, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground, so I married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took everything I owned.


I am older and wiser now, and am looking for a girl with big tits.


June 05, 2008

I love my country, make no mistake about that. Soon, I'll be posting reasons why. No that i need any, but i feel i should let the world (read internet) why Kenya is top in my 'I Love' list. Yes, i have such a list. One day, I will let you into my 'lists' world.

I do (not) like journalists a lot. They tells us what is going on around us, highlight issues and such but sometimes they annoy the daylights out of me. We all know that it is good to beat the daylights out of another but to annoy? That is an extreme. (Disclaimer- I use good loosely. very very loosely. In fact, so loose, it has fallen off this blog, leaving you with no proof that i said it is good to beat up people)

So when i saw this headline on one of our newspaper the worst i could do was roll my eyes. And roll them i did as they are still hurting.


Now that he has gone and won the nominations, we claim him as our own. If you ask me (which i bet no (Kenyan) will, the only Kenyan thing about Obama is his name. Those 5 letters are the alpha and omega of his Kenyanship.

Not that I do not like him. Oh, no. It's not like he is this guy.


I'm not even sure why i do not like that guy above. Is he as bad as these two hooligans?

My mother is still angry at me for going off to the beach with them last summer. It's not like they were terrorists! Gee, Mom!

Anyway, congratulations Obama. I wonder what some of his tribesmen would have done had he not won. Maybe they would have flown to New York to show their anger?




Posted in Nov 2008...

I'm not in the least bit superstitious. I purposely walk under ladders, I make black cats run cross the road in front of me. Hell, I have been trying to break mirrors since i was born, and i want my two dollar bills without the edges cut off. I will not pick pins, neither will I sit on my luggage before traveling. Russians are wired anyway, why should I care about sitting on my luggage? And in a typical stereotype, I might be smuggling my relative to whatever country I'm going to. It's hard enough that they have to travel in the luggage compartment (or whatever fancy name they have for that hold in a plane), without me having to sit on them!

But I traveled on Tuesday night, and i did not sit on my luggage. Partly because it was just ONE backpack, and I'm not into molesting backpacks. Little did I know what I was about to enter. Not twilight Zone. Things move way too nicely there I tell yah! I left DVP at the get-away resort and came back to work on Thursday morning. (Oh yeah, you don't know that he is in Kenya. Well, now you do. A story for another day). Where was I? Oh yeah, I came back to work. Finally, after months and months of editing, the 'TV Ad that is a movie', it was time to run transmission copies. I made up my mind a long time ago that i will not learn how to edit... ever. And i will rely on my boss to do it ...and the interns. As luck would have it, my boss is off filming Gorillas in Rwanda. I did not need him, I thought.

At around noon, i send one of the interns to have the TX (transmission copy) put on a Betacam format - which is what is required to send to a TV station. Once he leaves the office, I figure that that is out of my hands and it should be done soon, give or take an hour. So I blissfully go on with my work, until at 2 pm, it dawns on me that the the guy i sent is yet to communicate! So i frantically call him and what do you know, they have not even started work on my TX! Now, i think i should point out that we promised client they will have it ready by 4.pm. A raise a little hell, a baby hell to be precise and they start working on it. 2 hours later, the TX is done. But what do you know? It can't play back well. The colour correction is all wrong. So, it's time to deliver to client, and i have nothing!! So i call client and try a little bit of damage control. Wonder why it's called 'control' when it already happened! Client agrees with the option of putting the TX on DV Cam tape, and i cross my fingers, hoping that works. It does but we have to beat the traffic to the clients office. Meanwhile, I'm trying to get the TX done on Beta at some other place. My other boss even offers to drive me there. I get there and all excited that I can still deliver what clients wants...NOT! The DVD i went with wont open!!! So I call my other boss in Rwanda for some troubleshooting. I'm on phone with him getting instructions, and relaying the same instructions to another intern in our edit suite - on phone. Yes. I'm on two phones at the same time. Glad I was not driving! Since the DVD has refused to playback, we figure than maybe i should go back with a Mini DV tape. Which is why I'm on two phones.

I get back to my office and rush to the edit suite. All the instructions i had been giving on phone did not work, so i decide to do it myself. So there I am.. lost in an edit suite...only to finally figure out, 1 hour later that one of cables have a problem.

Meanwhile, DVP and I were supposed to have an interview with MNET Africa and they wanted to do a recce of my house. We had agreed that they could pick me from the office at 5 pm, since i did not anticipate to be in the office long. Since they were in the neighbourhood, they thought it a good idea to pick me at 4.30pm. Wrong move! It was now 6 pm, and they were still parked outside my office, watching me making the runarounds like a headless chicken. What imagery!

Then, as if there could not be a better time in the world, it starts to rain. I'm worrying about my laundry that has been in the hanging lines since Tuesday then remember that even DVP is not sheltered. When i left him at the getaway place, i accidentally left with his phone! He could not call me to check what time I'll be home and he had no spare keys to let himself in. By the way, I did not have the keys on me. I had left the painters doing their thing in my living room, what with the aftermath of the partying Gothic, which by the way, has been on the local news way too much. I had asked the caretaker to give the keys to the night guard who should give the same to DVP when he lets him in. I make it clear that i do not have another set of keys, neither does DVP, and insist on the importance of giving the key to the guard. So i stopped worrying about that, knowing that it has sunk in. It becomes apparent that i will not deliver the TX to my client, because by the time i figure out that i should carry our whole edit suite to the other company, it's about 8.pm, far too late! So i have to make that call of shame. But the idea to give her the DV Cam tapes was a good one since that worked. It's now 9 pm and i just want to go home. I call my taxi guy who tells me that he is closed for the day. WHAT? He promises to call another one for me. Oh, by now, the MNET Africa guys who were to drive me home have left. They decided to wait for me in my neighbourhood. The replacement taxi guy is not available, so have to look for another one. Finally arrives to pick me up at 10.00 pm. I get home. I ask the night guard for the key. He says don't have it. He has a phone number though. Great, I can open my house with a phone number! I call the caretaker who tells me that he thought it was not safe to leave the keys with the guard, so he left with them. I breathe in.. deeply. That chill you felt was me breathing in very very deeply. Calmly, I ask him to bring me the keys. He says he is too far gone and cannot come back. I'm amazed at how calm i still remained. Must be all the air i sucked in! Finally he agrees to come back. 30 minutes later, he arrives. MNET crew recce's my house, decides it's fit for the interview, meanwhile, DVP is fishily drunk. He has been at the bar since 3pm.. waiting on me to come home. Poor man.

To crown it all, i had stolen 45 minutes of my 1 hour lunch to make my hair. I finally decided to change from my dreadlocks to braids. Normally, this process takes 2 hours. I had about 7 (seven) women working on my hair. The result was my hair being done in 45 minutes, and my scalp feeling only what i can only assume the soil feels during the California fires.

I did not sleep. My head was on fire.

Perfect end to my day!

This is why I will be sitting on my luggage from now henceforth!

They do sit on luggage here too!

Posted in Dec 2008.....




A couple of weeks ago, i rejoined the other fish in the market. After 2 years of being a fish in aquarium, a pet fish, I'm back to the display market.

I am floating somewhere in there. It is impossible to see me because the new fish on the block get moved to the bottom of the pile. You see, the higher on the pile you are in a fish market, the more the chances for getting picked are. In our little fishy fish dreams, all we see is this merchant coming by and getting captivated by our glistening scales, our strong fins and our beady eyes. We lie there and implore him with our half open mouths, as if saying, ' If you don't pick me up, this might be the last breath i take.'

This is not to say that our woes end with having a merchant possess us. But is the first step to a more fulfilling life. Of course there are those fish that i know are content on being in the market, but some fish, like i kinda like being a pet fish.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, I have said goodbye to the 'his and hers' club, and joined the Table for One Anonymous. I'm not scared of being alone... ahem....single, i just hate it. I enjoy sharing the little things with someone, I like being silly with someone who will look at me, shake their head and smile inwardly knowing that it's that exact silliness that makes them love me more. I like being able to have a lazy thinking day, when i have the liberty of asking ' Hunny, what are we having for dinner?' and actually getting an answer. Because you see, my microwave hates that question. And whenever i ask it, its response is not to work that day. I thought I'd solve this problem (of asking questions and getting answers) by buying an answering machine. Pardon me for thinking an answering machine is a gadget that give you answers!

I like having someone to call and rant to, who will, by virtue of laws laid out in the Dating Code, listen to me. I like knowing that somewhere, there could be this person who thinks I'm the greatest gift to mankind, apart from obviously House MD and blogging. In simple terms, I like being in a relationship.

I have not had much time to mourn my loss of status, the going back to being a fish in the dreaded market, what with all the traveling...but lost love is double fanged bitch! Once you loose it, it waits in the shadows, lets you have grand days and in the middle of the night, it creeps up and starts prodding you...

With Lost Love (LL) taking on the worse imitation of Freddy Krueger, the conversation goes like this

LL: 'Hey Dark, Are you awake?'
Me:'Now I am, who are you?'
LL:'Someone you used to know'
'Thanks for clearing that up. Makes it very easy to figure it out'
LL:I'll give you are clue'
'How kind of you, seeing as it's 3 am and all'
LL:'I used to make you smile for no reason in the middle of a work project, I used to make you look forward to going home in the evening when youknowho was around. I used to make the message beep on your phone increase your heart beat.'
'Oh, you'
LL:'Oh yes, me'
'And why, of all the 12 hours of daylight, did you have to wait until now to come calling'
LL:'You see, your days are too busy. Once i come your life, i don't let you walk that easily. I don't fight for attention. This is the best time to get you. Take you down memory lane.'
'Do we really have to do it now?'
LS:'Absolutely. Remember that day....'

June 04, 2008

Olga got off her plane, buggy, taxi or whatever traveling means she was using to pass on a simple yet important message. Same message, one day, all bloggers.

I wont steal her light by going into details.

I will tell you however that this was a brilliant idea by Mimi Writes.

I'm supporting Blog Blast for peace. Here is my show of support. Don't worry if you are too late. You can backdate your post like i did


Are you? Get your globe here

is this

My boss:















Church Ministers:


Canadians:



My parents:

My geek pal


My high school arithmetics teacher:

Catholic (Irish) Women:

My boyfriend (when he pisses me)

That annoying bitch
That rude waiter (ess):


My Ex boyfriend:


What I'm saying to (all) bloggers:


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