Sleek and Wild

Low days

// July 12th, 2010 // 21 Comments » // true stuff

Bomb blasts went off at a very popular hangout last night. It’s one of those things where you get the news and you just don’t want to believe it. I honestly have little faith in our popos but for all that’s at stake, I hope that this time round they surprise us and actually get to the bottom of this.

To give this a little perspective, I’ll point out that up-til now, Kampala has been one of those places where at 03:00 AM, one can walk from one end of the city to the other. And that we are the kind of people to complain about rising fuel prices, high Pay As You Earn taxes, impossible airtime charges…basically a very high cost of living. But in all this, we’ll still go to that new hangout place and pay UGX 5,000 for a beer. And we fill the place to the point that you literally have to fight your way to the bar to get a drink. And that’s the average hangout.

And then you hear about bomb blasts…

But where are we getting news from? Twitter, Facebook, BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera…where is our local media when we NEED it? Why are they still presenting ‘normal’ stuff in the face of this? Isn’t this a stop-the-press kind of thing, do detailed research, give us names of the affected, talk to their relatives and whatnot…yes, we love the Sean Kingston music(maybe not), but give us relevant stuff at least this one time. Reminds me of how Sanyu FM, in the midst of the Riots in September last year, amidst all the mayhem and us running scared, Sanyu FM, the only station I listen to; they didn’t have zilch on what was going on.

Bloggers, Facebook die-hards, Tweeple, we are the new media. Let’s show ‘the pros’ how it’s done, and maybe, just maybe they’ll start giving us relevant info.

Future speak

// July 9th, 2010 // 5 Comments » // true stuff

When I grow up, I want to do many things. I want to sell crack on a corner, and run from the popos when they come. And I want to say “Bad manners to the popos” as I show them one of my fingers. The middle finger preferably since flashing it has yielded angst and the like in the past. And when they do finally get me, they’ll say “We finally got you Lil’ Sleek.  Your nefarious ways will no longer go unchecked on the corner. You won’t be selling crack ’round here no more. Take him away boys.”

And when I get into jail, I want to beat up the biggest guy in there. Left jab, right upper cut, kick to the groin, and as he doubles over, quick left, a right and finally I finish him off with a round kick. And everyone will respect me. And not look me in the eye. And I’ll have conjugal visits from my friends. Girls. And no one in prison will tell me to “Pick up that bar of soap over there” because they know I’ll whoop them.

And three months later, I’ll break out of prison. I’ll cover the hole I’ve been digging in the wall using a Grace Nakimera poster. And the guards won’t notice it. The hole not the poster. They’ll notice the poster, and get hard-ons.

And when I’m free, I’ll sell more crack on the corner. And release a hit song, “Crack isn’t whack”. I’ll feature Loose legs on that track. Loose legs will be the female sensation then; to give you a lil’ perspective, she’ll be a mix of lady Gaga, Lauryn Hill and Beyonce. And besides doing ‘crack is whack’ with me, Loose legs will fall in love with me…and she’ll write songs about me. She’ll also remix ‘Heaven sent’, and dedicate it to me. And she’ll ask me to father her child and I’ll say, “Loose, I dig you and all that ish, but I ain’t ready for no baby mamas. A brother gotta hustle right now, that’s whatitis”.

Girlinator

// June 4th, 2010 // 13 Comments » // true stuff

Schwarzenegger was a choir boy. He was the strongest voice in the choir. And he was a great great soloist. You don’t know who a soloist is? It’s that person who says “Me me me me me(frantic waving of arms)” when choir-master asks “Who wants to sing this part here alone?”. So yeah, Schwarz was a soloist.

Scwarzz  was especially looked to for vocal redemption when it came to songs like ‘silent night’, ‘killing me softly’ and the like. Don’t be fooled people, Schwarzz also sang some non-ballad music. He had a small part in rapper Slit Throat’s hit song, ‘jjjjj‘. Great song, Heavy chorus. “Come on,jjjj, Come on jjjj. All dem who*es come on jjj.’ Due to his Australian descent, Schwarzz was called upon to sing the ‘jjj’ part. Needless to say he rocked it.

On stage, when girls would be screaming, “Oh Schwarzz we love you. Please do *** to us, and also do **** to us” Schwarzz would look down mid-song, think about it and just before leaving stage, he’d turn to the girls and say “I‘ll be back“. Schwarzz the proverbial girlinator.

Unfortunately, Schwarzz didn’t take any photos back then. None. But one of his girly fans did. Stare. Zoom in if possible.

Bend it

// May 12th, 2010 // 8 Comments » // true stuff

PPPS: PIFF rocked. That party, so nice. Thanks you cool PIFF guys. And 27th, thanks for that tip. It worked. 27th is a bad boy(cue some music)

#####

I hate our ads. Apart from those written by Streets and Erique. I hate our ads. They are that fly buzzing above your head as you take a dump. They are that conductor who tells you that he has no change. They are that douchebag tea-lady who spills tea on you on Monday morning. I hate our ads. But I’m too nice to complain without bringing to fruition better thangs. Sleek ads galore…

Cooking oil ad:

(cccsssshhhhhhh-cooking sound)…(ka ka ko ka-someone walking into kitchen)

Someone: mmmapph,yam yum,..I like that smell. Its smells so nice. So so nice. Jimmy, what are you using to cook your food?

Jimmy(briefly stops cooking): Imelda, I’m using xxx beer. It’s all the flavor you need.

Bank ad:

Dear listener, come and we keep your money. You come. Please you come. While you while your days away, worried about your networth, we’ll take your money, use it, get rich and give you a tiny portion of what we make. We’ll go out of our way to put hot tellers at our counters to please your eyes. And your hands…NAT!! No touching, at all…world bank policy, though its not effected in the white house(whispers) come to think of it, that place needs a no smoking ban too..

Ante-natal ad:

Are u pregnant? You are? Are you sure? Does your man know about it? Speak louder…does he? Then how do you plan to raise the byaby? Do you know Chaka Demus? Do you like his music? Do you think your baby’ll like his music? Not sure? Let’s find out…(dundu, duuundudu, dundu, duuuundududu-Chaka Demus beat playing in the background)…Did u feel any movements in your general belly area? Or slightly lower?(cough) or slightly higher?(clears throat)…or you felt nothing? Nothing? Come for ante-natal checkup. This announcement is brought to you by Bono. And our government. In a collabo. One time.

Food ad:

You want rolex? (Queue picture of thin man, hand-on-cheek…)You sure you want rolex? Why do you want it? Is there a shortage of chips/beef in your area? Or do the chip seller’s slimy hands put you off? (PS: It can’t be ‘chips seller’s slimy hands’, too many s’s. We are lisp-sensitive here).

How badly do you want our rolex? Our yummy rolex…non-crunchy, sumptuous, full-of-good-things, mouth-drenching rolex…come get it. (Queue picture of formerly thin man now fat, scratching belly and walking with pomp with a bevy of giggling young ladies following him)…

Clarification: A rolex here refers to that mixture where they get a chapati and a fried egg and put them in a tight bundle together. And its sold to us to eat. We do not refer to that watch made by those Jamaicans. Don’t sue us.

Nifty grifty

// May 3rd, 2010 // 12 Comments » // true stuff

A brother turned the bigass 24 on Monday. So, presenting various ways of celebrating. Oh hold that thought…I have on occasion been to BHH’s that rocked, but the one last Thursday was l.e.g.e.n.d.a.r.y. Would typed that again for that feel good effect that writers get from repetition, examples are in order…

Stephen King “He thrust his knife deeper…and she groaned her last. Yes, he really did thrust it deeper.”

Solomon King (No relation,as it turns out…but he’s aight) “He thrast his mouse dipper(sic). He did it. He thrast it dip.”

Jackie Collins “He thrust his knife deeper, and she groaned her lust. He looked like he’d thrust again, and he did.”

John Grisham “He tthrust his hand deeper into the pile of cases. Very deep. Very very deep.”

M7 (yes, our El-presidente is a big writer), “He thrust his democratic gun deeper. And the people groaned in unison. And he thought long about the next thrust.”

Anyway, BHH was mint chocolate with a cherry in the middle. Normzo seriously, not that kinda cherrie. Speaking of, hi Cherry. So at BHH, we talked a bit about changing the world (through, for starters, a party next Saturday…get full details here. Go get them. Stop reading this…go now. Ok, I’ll text you the rest of this entry. Hehe, this entry. Baz gets it). Oso thanks to Spartakuss, we talked about some gross stuff…2 girls and (shudder). Anyway, it was nice. You missed. And if you happen to come from those places where my saying ‘Feel a mango’ doesn’t have an effect, please email me and we’ll dig into your dialect and find an appropriate phrase.

Onto the ways of celebrating…What am gonna do? What am gonna do?

1. Send Lauryn Hill mail. I’ve successfully kept my crush outta the media partly due to the fact that when media people throng me with questions…(clammer clammer, sticking microphones mostly near my face) “Sleek, what’s your real height?”, “Is all that food yours?”, “Is it true that you were awesome even as a baby?” I’ve always given them a good chorus answer (serious face...). “No comment..” so yes, Tanya, I mean Lauryn and I have survived like that.
2. Tanya Stephens and I are going to have a cup of coffee. With her there’s no affair, imaginary or not. It’s full-fledged marriage without the ring, but with the good tings. True story. I know you are reading this Tanya…xxx.

3. And most importantly, I’m going to get into a fight. Nothing serious. I swear. See for yourself.

Code burning red

// March 19th, 2010 // 6 Comments » // true stuff

The LAN at work is down. Now, what are the possible causes? Sherlock Holmes at your service, let’s get to the bottom of this:

POSSIBLE CAUSE ONE:

Security guard, after that strong cup of coffee in the wee hours of the morning, felt an overwhelming urge to go do the wee wee. So walk. Walk. Can I wee wee here? No, dogs are watching. Walk. Walk. Skip. Can I wee wee here? No, big buxom lady is getting it from that dude over there. Walk. Walk. Lemme wee wee here. Wait! Big buxom lady was….oh God! And I didn’t stay to watch…oh God! Lemme wee wee here and get back and watch…Weeeeee weeeeee(for long)…ah drat! Some computer…oh sh!t. oh f*ing sh!t…I think I just wee weeed these guys’ server to the afterlife…Now they’ll walk in and one whiff of my urine will tell the investigators that I did it…oh drat! Gotta remove all evidence. Lemme pour some water to neutralize the urine smell in the PC…

POSSIBLE CAUSE TWO:

Lay-around employee notices boss isn’t looking. Boss is busying himself at his desk. Boss is bustling around. Pushing his weight around. Doing belly-ups. Suuuuck belly in, puuuushhh belly out. Sigh. Then do it again. Suuuuck belly in. Puuush belly out. Great for getting trim belly in some time. Boss taken up so lay-around employee takes golden opportunity to open www.http://(deleted by author,but about Britney).com. So he opens. Crap! Wrong address. No eye candy. It should be http://www.(again, deleted by author, but about Celine Dione).com. Oh nice. Nice photo. Nice angle. Oh nice. Eh, what’s this here; look at that…oh, look at that…how do people get into these positions? Amazing…oh what’s this? “You are the first person to cum to this site. Click for here you prize”. Oh, some typos. But I’ll click nonetheless.  Click. Nothing. Double-click. One more time. Double-click. LAN goes down.

POSSIBLE CAUSE THREE:

Heavy-set, middle-aged, suit-wearing, suave-looking Italian man walks into our office. Walks up to our hot receptionist.

(In heavily accented English) Italian man: Hey there pretty receptionist, beautiful day today.

Receptionist: Indeed. How may I help you?

Italian man: I’m here to… (Long boring, though tending towards stimulating conversation)

(Much later, after I’ve taken a leak)

Italian man: (raised voice, agitated) What do you mean ‘people like us’? Do you think that just because I am a heavy-set, middle-aged, suit-wearing, suave-looking Italian man, that I’m Mafioso? I’ll teach you to be less racism (sic)

(drawing magnum, running round the office screaming while firing…aaarrrghhhh,kuchuchchcucuchch(gun going off)…)…LAN goes off.

Rastapunzel

// March 9th, 2010 // 13 Comments » // true stuff

You’d be surprised at just how far sending fan-mail can get you. I know, Ussain Bolt didn’t get back to me on whether we are related or not, and Keri Hilson also kept her lips sealed on whether I inspired that ‘Turning me on’ track of hers. The bad-girl. How can she leave me here guessing? But recently, one individual got back to me. I liked his movie, Avatar, so so much…I know, it had no sex scene but that’s not the point here. So I bothered the guy into telling me about his next movie. He first jam. Naturally. So I bothered him some more. Then, finally, he budged. James and I have since been sending fan mail back and forth.

Presenting his next movie, Rastapunzel. It is very loosely based on that Rapunzel story, you know girl with long hair lets it down and prince charming climbs onto it and they do bad manners and live happily ever after . But with a unique twist (as with all James’s movies). In Rastapunzel, a Rastafarian will star as modern-day Rapunzel; only with dreadlocks (and not “long-flowing blonde hair”), and he’d have a deep voice; also, there’d be no Prince charming, or princess charming for that matter. There’d be a pack of broads and every night, the guy’d have to sit at his window and comb his hair (ya, dandruff and all) and on each night, a different broad would ask (smiling sweetly, shyly, eyes blinking ever so innocently) “Hey Rastapunzel, could I climb into your room, using your hair, so we can play?”. To which he’d reply, “Broad number (inserts number), I’d be delighted to have you for a playmate. Oooh I love playmates. Shall we shag now or shag later?” And then he’d quickly let the previous broad out through the back window (no hair, just gives her a slight nudge and tells her to take a leap of faith) before letting the next one climb in. The suspense of the movie is in trying to figure out if he’d actually fall for one of the broads.

And the movie has environmental-awareness undertones. For example, all the broads do not wear fur coats. In fact, there’s a line where one of the broads, while happily skipping towards Rastapunzel’s home, says, “I do not wear fur coats. Or bras. I’m natural. I love nature.” Then the camera zooms in on her shoulder, and then on her bosom to illustrate the aforementioned facts. The camera lingers on the bosom, just to make sure we, the lusty audience, know just how natural the broad is. And all the while she’s skipping. Skip. Skip. Skip.

Ahh, great movie. Modern-day Casanova if you ask me, or Rastanova. I came up with that one on my own. Of course Rastapunzel’s hair fell-out after broad number 8, leaving him bald and scarred, and in the movie, police arrest the star for gross-acts to women. It is set to be released in a women-charged atmosphere, showing female cops assaulting and battering the Rastapunzel character for his deeds amidst wild cheers from fellow estrogen-laden individuals. Surprisingly some of the estrogen-laden individuals were guys. Two of them actually. Complete with…(sigh) let’s not go there, your imagination can only take so much.

So, I told James I’d blog about his next piece, just so we (him and I) can get a feel of what the audience has to say. A blockbuster, superblockbuster, super x 1000 blockbuster or what? Your thoughts.

Homecoming

// February 24th, 2010 // 11 Comments » // true stuff

Come here baby. Come here…don’t be like that. I know it’s been a month…I know. But I brought you a keg of beer…ahhhh, now you’re smiling. Here’s your keg.  Hey hold up…hold up, don’t beat me up…hey that’s not fair. (Darting for cover…). Stops to reason with TORMENTOR…hey, hear me out…(sees, rather late, heavy pillow headed for his head. It hits him square in the face. He sees TORMENTOR reach for a flower vase. He pauses to take in the amusing picture as TORMENTOR struggles to actually lift the thing. Heave. Heave. Breathe. Breathe. Angry breathing. Wipe brow. Heave. Strain muscles. He considers offering to help. Sees vase start to move. First slowly. Gathering speed. Ha! Dives. Crushing sound. )

(From the safety of the closet) Look here, listen for a second….blogger, listen. Things have been tight. That philandering bitch, WORK, came onto me. She’s really demanding. She left me spent. If it’s any consolation, she wasn’t even as good as my workmates say she was…I swear.

(Gets phone call. Phone’s on silent. Vibrator tags at his thigh. He picks up.)

(Whispers) Yes? Listen WORK I can’t talk right now, but you’re the best. Yeah, aha. Yeah, yes, okay…let me get this straight, you want me to buy us some leather straps, and to come over wearing nothing, but with a yellow rose between my teeth? Aha…yes…yes….you’ll have nothing but the music on? Aha…okay…ya, yah, you already said that. What? I should come wearing an eye patch? Ok, I’ll see you…you what? Eh oso me…

Blogger baby, that was WORK. I just gave her the tongue-lashing of her life. Told her that she may have my body during the day but you have my life. My passion. My love. My drive. She forces me to do all kinds of things. She…she even…(chokes back tears)…she drove us apart. That…that tart! That…that…WHORE!! (Bursts out of closet, gets blow to the head)

(X minutes/hours later)

(Our star recovers to find blogger passed out from the gift keg of beer)

(Talking to passed-out blogger)

I’m sorry. It will never come to this between us again. It’s been a month to you but it feels like an eternity for me. (Rubs his temples, trying to nurse the throbbing headache)…

(Moves towards passed-out blogger) I’m going to put in that extra time just for you. You and I, we are…we are… (Hugs passed-out blogger) … (The wheels are turning but the car’s not moving) …we are… (Borrowing from his buddy Akon)… we are stuck with each other.

###########################

Glad to be back. Now, fast forward…BHH tomorrow. It’s always been close to my heart this BHH thing. Word got round that blogger elections are coming up. I’m going for the top spot; I want blogger president. My manifesto will follow but first, lemme say the Streetsider and Bazanye have written their names in my ‘Sleek for President’ book. BHH tomorrow, have to get YOU to sign too.

BHH, BHH, BHH…..BHH, tomorrow, Mateos. Licensed to thrill.

It is

// January 29th, 2010 // 10 Comments » // true stuff

Heavy heart, be still…Heavy heart, be still…okay, for a second there I was going Princess on you.

It was a very fast day. HE was at work. After turning down repeated advances from the heavy-laden receptionist, heavy-laden because of very ample mounds positioned firmly on upper torso, positioned in a way that, as many of their kind, they were more imposing than the unfortunate carrier, unfortunate because she didn’t know just how much power she carried around…After turning those advances down, HE sat at his desk and started to go through shit-loads of work, only coming up from the clutter to sip katunda. Katunda, juice, is the stuff that fuels the country’s economy by way of :

1. Beating the hangover

2. Allowing itself to be served to the MP by the mistress the morning after his ‘long trip to meet his constituents’

So, when HE was finally done with work, he looked up to see that it was fast approaching 2100hrs. So he rang DK to find out how fast HE needed get to BHH.

DK: BHH? ah, you’ve missed. We are re-locating. Kels was here and he did ‘Happy people’, he dedicated it to all  the illiterati, i think he was going for Illuminati but for literary people, thus illiterati..he even..

(girly screams in the background, younger girly screams too)

DK: (continues) Oh, that’s him these femmes are gushing about. One of them just (static) and she’s (lots of static) She even offered to blow (more phone static)

ME: (shouting) Dude, I can barely hear you…

DK: (oblivious to the bad connection) And you won’t believe what he just did…he..he just..

(more very young girls screaming…)

DK: (still going on) he is now reaching over and….

(goat bleating)

Word from The Streetsider has it that BHH was ok. And that they re-located, en-mass, to a dingy place where they all sunk into a shit-load of debauchery. And some intelligent banter. Like:

Baz: That one, you see her (using his one good eye to point her out)

27th: By all means my good man, yes, my eyes have caught a whiff of her exuberance (sic)

Baz: (still chewing on the word ‘exuberance‘, wondering whether it’s in the right sentence) Those ones, (using his hands to draw ‘the big picture’), are they real?

Winging

// January 12th, 2010 // 13 Comments » // true stuff

The year has started on an all-time low for Sleek and Wild. I think while the two were gorging all those niceties during the festive season, blogcks creeped in behind them…one second they were dancing in the rain, singing hallellujah in Russian, schmoozing with Anastasya and Valeriya (not in any way related to the Czar), and generally trying to take as many body shots of Vodka as possible… the next they were splayed out on the floor, uttering sentences only coherent to monks…and to certain animals. That’s not to say that monks speak animal…that’s not to say they do not.

The massacres took a hit…(heavy sigh) so sponsors are holding onto their purses…but even the lowest moments do have some good stuff. Guys, listen closely coz I’m going to whisper this, don’t want the ladies eavesdropping…Back off a bit, that’s too close GUG…now, I came into the possession of some high-end details on the best wingman on the market right now. This stuff will have you telling the ladies,

“Hey, stay in the queue and your turn’ll come. Stand in line woman, stand in line”

“Hey you! Hot mini skirt, low-cut top, luscious lips, oogy eyes, get back in the queue. I said get back in the queue! Lady, don’t make me….” (you trail off as she finally eases off and steps back into line)

(Sigh)…(you wipe your brow, steadying your humping heart beat.)

OFFTOPIC: Is that correct? Can one say ‘humping heart beat’? Doesn’t it bring to mind bad manners? Maybe, in the interest of all the youth that are here, we outta take that down. Let’s rephrase..

(you wipe your brow, steadying your excited heart beat)

Now, Alba, where were we? Yes, how did you beat the queue to get to me so fast? Nice little black dress by the way…what’s that? Ah yes, I love my goatee too…

I had to give you a picture of how good this wingman is. I know Mo hasn’t got it yet but that’s that…this wingman helps you skip most of  the preliminaries: No ‘meet the girlfriends’, no ‘holding hands at Rugby club’, no ‘reading poetry to each other’, no ‘watching Hentai together’…. However, you’ll still have to clean up your wardrobe and put in those pink shirts she bought you; wingman can only do so much.

Now, jumping straight in…this wingman is actually a…..(drumroll…)

Movie.

Shock. Awe. Finger-raising. You think I’ve ripped you off. Now, ignoring your angst, I’ll go ahead and say that Twilight, going by research done by www.twilight-as-a-wingman.com, that movie will get you more hits than the Beatles.  Women worldwide are gaga and giggle about this movie…so dude, use it as a bargaining chip.

You: “Honey, I’d like you to (insert appropriate perversion)”

Honey: “WTF!”(reaching for high heel, aiming for your already crooked nose from all the beat-downs)

You: “Boo, if you do not do (repeat appropriate perversion), I won’t let you watch Twilight for the 26^th time”

Please document your findings.

PS: My verdict on the movie? C.H.E.E.S.Y. And I can’t see how anyone can be attracted to someone that pale. I’d check for a pulse first. There will be more vitriol on this topic…(deathly soundtrack as writer picks up his pen and limps out of the dark room)

PPS: It is assumed, by Writer, that you know what a wingman is. If by some stroke of nature-doing-bad-manners-to-itself, you do not know, then google is your friend.

PS: (Hush, I know I already did a PS)Writer has depicted a violent, dysfunctional couple in this article. Writer does not encourage such stuff. Violence, it is bad.