Something about Monday Mornings

Something about Monday Mornings

Weekends mean different things to different people. To some it is an opportunity to cool off after another maniacally hectic week. To some it is an opportunity to go to church, visit folks upcountry or about town. To some, it is time to get a lay or have some good time out here.

For those who go home or to church, we have no business with them today. They are basically doing the right things and no one writes about right things any more. Let us just talk about the perverted type who must be laid or do something ‘exciting’.

There is something incredulous about Monday morning. Something elusive. Something pretentious. Something impossible. Faces wear different countenances; smiles, simpers(that sheepish smile), grins, indifference, implacability and all that. For women you will see different hairstyles, beautiful skins and a radiance about them that is quite revealing about their weekend escapades.

There is something telling about Monday mornings. You can tell who did what with who over the weekend. You can tell who had a good a weekend from who had a bad one. Just look on their faces, those who look generally irritable didn’t get a sex of their life that they had so much anticipated the previous week. Those with sunny dispositions must have screamed the names of sex gods in some lodging or in the apartments of their yuppie boyfriends.

So if you seated in office or class and the woman next to you seems busy and focused but with a satisfying look, she probably ruminating over the unforgettable experience over the weekend. And women can pretend, like nothing really happened. The British Comedian Seymour Hicks once said ‘No one knows more about women than I do. And I know nothing,’ I have never agreed with a statement so much.
Moving on about the sexual escapades, it is women who nowadays anticipate a good lay. Not men anymore. I’m still trying to figure out why? Someone help me. Every other day, my yuppie or corporate friends always tell me that their women will be coming over and they are the ones insisting. Women between 20-30 love their sex. And those who date the loaded men love it doubly.

I’m talking about college or varsity women or the those newly working, not yet married. Marriage is a different ball game together. To this women, their weekends are exciting experiences they constantly look forward to. They are dirty minded, walking sexual encyclopedias. We live in a sex era, where everything begins, revolves and ends with sex.

A weekend without a good lay is incomplete, unless she is inconvenienced with the inevitable bad days of the month. By Friday afternoon, they have switched off from their place of work or even school. Friday night, they be rubbing their asses against men’s groins in Nairobi’ s 637, night clubs and restaurants. And nowadays, they are only dancing with women, to this we shall talk about it in our subsequent posts.

Back to these women. They are magnificently excited about the whole weekends. They have a life. They like it. They live it. Look at the attention they paying to their looks and make-up. Nowadays, every other woman’s income is dedicated to her makeup. Look at the expensive hairstyles. Look at the way they dress and you get the drift that everything is geared towards making them look irresistibly sexy. Not a bad thing…only that it has become a tad tedium.

Every day of the week, we peeping into cleavages, some really not worth exposing. Every day of the week we are treated to all shapes of bottoms, some really grotesque and an eye sore. Every day, we are served with thighs, some good, but some bony or with stretch marks so boring it hurts. It just sucks. I wish women could be a little sensitive in whatever they do. We are tired of these blatant and brazen displays of sexuality.
Yet, today, this cool Monday, we are back to school and to class. I see everyone absorbed into distant memories that are now fading. I can see that look of ‘haki Mike ni mzuri’ or ‘that was one hell of an orgasms’. For men, it makes little difference. Because, for us, when it comes to sex, I can’t remember the last time, Time was an issue. Any day of the week, regardless, is time for IT.

To Phoebe, for disappointing all the men who have constantly admired you. How could you? No one knew that you come that cheap…. You owe us an apology.


Top 8 things that you must do in college

Top 8 things must-dos while in University of Nairobi
Without a doubt, the University is the best place you can ever walk in. You have the access to everything you will ever need in future; beautiful women, handsome men, water, electricity and an education that will certainly transform you into a full, civil, informed and educated citizen. But your social life is as much important as is your academic life is. Here are a few suggestions on how you can enhance your social life…

The advice is hardly sound and I must offer some due precaution that whatever you choose to, do it at your own peril. SAWA? So without much ado, here we go:
1. Smoke crack

Chances are that you joined campus before you tested crack. Smoking marijuana is not a reserve of the spoilt brats. As you should have learnt by now, in university, everything ought to pass an empirical test. So there is no need of you buying that line that drugs are bad. Taste for yourself, in some of these things, experience is the better teacher.

Crack will open your eyes. Will lift the veil that closes your eyes to the other side of the world, where things are greasy, oily, beautiful and magnificent. Bhang, will get you outside yourself. Will bring the best out of you. Test and taste but don’t get addicted. It feels good to be high. To suspend reality, even for a moment.

When you take bhang, you feel on top of the world, but when you will sober up, the world will be on top of you.

2. Have sex on an alley, aisle, office, library, any bush, upon that ugly tree, in the bathroom. Anywhere in the university
This is purely for experimental purposes and always carries a condom with you. Spontaneous sex is superb but often carries with it unimaginable consequences. I believe 97.8% of the readers of this specific blog were as a result of accidental sex. Trust me. Your mum and dad, most certainly were trying some make up sex but you stuck in there. So be careful. Our fathers and mothers had the luxury. HIV and other venereal threats were not exactly existent. Nowadays, you try anything like that and you get yourself a ticket to the next world.

Sex in an outside environment, especially on a moony night is an experience and an opportunity that you should never miss if you want your bank of memories to be worth visiting for withdrawals. Try it. But mostly importantly, with someone you really treasure.
3. If a man get a child out there

I once requested an Engineering chick if we can make a baby like that and she took offence. See, I was serious. Really serious. She took offence.

“That is demeaning, belittling and plain stupid.” She gave me a mouthful. She made me feel like an ingrate. Baby, I was serious. I thought, that with my height and her intelligence, an Albert Einstein was quite in order…

Any way, Patty, I’m sorry. Between 20-24, it is important that you get a young one out there. But please and please and please, don’t abandon responsibility. Marry the woman if possible, if not; kindly be a good father to the child. Also be cautious about the dangers of unprotected sex in this day and age.

4. If a chick, please don’t abort
I know the challenges can at times be insurmountable. But I despise a chick who aborts. I my class, at least some eight women have given birth and quite surprisingly nearly all have given birth to boys. I salute these women. It is the mark of maturity and patience.
If by any chance you slid into that precarious situation, brave it all.

You may never know whether it is an Obama or the messiah you are carrying. But be more cautious the more about men, especially if he chooses to run away.
5. Gays and lesbians are human beings
I hate gays. I loathe gays. I once saw men kiss at Secret Lounge and I have never gone back there. I’m virulently homophobic. A couple of years ago, I could have killed any gay I came across. But with time, sufficient exposure and a critical examination of the world, I have learnt that the gays are not the root cause of our problems.

Think of the guys who do not know how to use public toilets. Think of the Nairobian women who have redefined gold digging into a whole different game. Think of the buggers who impregnate women and disappear. Think of the stupid politicians who, with one silly utterance our lives are at stake. Just think. Think of the corrupt policeman, who lets a car with excess passengers pass only for the vehicle to be involved in a bad accident and many people dying in the process.

So we should learn to appreciate different sexual orientation no matter how repugnant or repulsive their options are.
6. Date a campus dude/chick
It is highly advisable to date while in campus. You might meet your future wife here. Date from different levels of study. Date across the disciplines, the faculties, the schools, the campuses, the institutes. Serve yourself with as much variety as you can access. It is from here you can learn about the jokers and the serious men and women. Those with ambition and those without.

This is highly critical. Phenomenal. Necessary. Important. It is once in a lifetime opportunity. Don’t let it slip.
7. Drink alcohol
Get drunk and wasted. Drink your entire loan. You have minimal responsibilities. No rent. No bills. Just your mouth to feed, imagine. So drink all the alcohol you come across, but bear in mind that such kind of pleasures are limited and no-existent in your future life. Sawa.
8. Get over your prejudices and stereotypes
So Luos are proud and intelligent or stupid. The Kikuyus are entrepreneurs and thieves. The Kaos are loyal and stupid. The Kisiis and Merus are ill-tempered. The Coatarians are lazy…So what. Learn and master these stereotypes. Unlearn their sheer collectivity. Relearn to live with such realities as judging the personalities and not the entire community. It is the mark of a true intellectual.
Above all may education humble all of you…


Three years at the University of Nairobi

Three years ago, this week, I joined the best campus of the most prestigious University located in the biggest city in the greatest country in this part of the African block to study the least regarded course-BA.

The acronym has given birth to some of the most ingenious interpretations; Baba Alinituma, and at Masters level-MA-Mama Alinituma, Below Average, Being Around, Be All but over time I have come to settle with this one: Blessed Assurance.

Joining the University of Nairobi was not an option but the only choice for me. University education was the breather I needed after the turbulent and tumultuous life as a child and a teenager. Growing up under the tutelage of guardians, I needed a place to stand so that I can be me, to borrow some American slang. It was emancipation at last. Freedom from the yoke of overbearing folks, who I must confess gave me the best as humanly possible.

I joined the University as a pseudo-celeb, especially among my peers. At the time, I was contributing to the Friday Standard’s Entertainment pullout Pulse’ Rants and Raves section where we used to ask inane questions like how do we write zero in roman numbers, or even sillier why don’t they make the whole airplane with the material that they use to make that indestructible black box?

I was also contributing for Saturday Nation’s pull out, the Saturday Magazine where I sat in for Oyunga Pala(who later became a good friend and a man so down to earth to a fault), the celebrated heretic columnist, once in a while, but most of the time, my column ran parallel to his. This is what gave me reasonable mileage and respect among my peers. I also used to make some dough from my writing and lead a modest life. I was good Christian, an ardent Adventist, and alcohol was still bitter and sour.

I joined a class of incredibly talented individuals, whose creativity was simply more than amazing. I was only 21, but an almost established writer. My boy Alex Kirui was just a year shy of 20 but an award winning cartoonist and paid up cartoonist with the Nation. Actually, I received my first cheque of Ksh 7,500 from Nation for my Mantalk piece on September 1st 2007. A piece that proved that you can be anything you want to be in this world and to date I treasure it the most.

See, while I was growing up, I wanted to be Whispers. But Whispers was gone too soon. Then I stumbled upon Oyunga Pala. I loved his writing. I loved his truthful way of addressing manly issues. That was back in 2003. My only wish then was if Only I could ever live to see an article with my byline…And I started working towards it. Then came up that September Saturday and the rest as they say is history (Every Journalist and Celeb has used this line).

I have had my highs and lows in my writing. I have occupied many enviable spaces in Kenya’s leading printing press but I have nothing much to show for it. Many of whom I begun with are possibly driving but I have learnt much even so.

The aim of this blog is to explain my roller coaster journey in this University. My loveless experience and my dreamy ideal state that has often served me wrong. The friends that I have encountered, those who have stood by me for better or for worse.

I was talkin’ about my friends in my Literature class. There was Peter Oduor, a great pal of mine, the one whom I turn to when I feel like waxing philosophical and testing my often wise theories on relationships. He is a talented poet, a proven determined writer and Kenya’s (currently freelancing with the Standard) possible answer to Nigeria’s Wole Soyinka. There was Charlene Kimara, a talented girl with a passion for life and music. I do hope she will not give up and I will be pointing on telly to my peers that I once shared a class with her. There was Boniface Mwalii, my partner in crime, a man without any moral scruples and has sliced me many a time. And there was David Osiany.

In our initial Literature class, our Japanese Lecturer brought one Eddie Mbugua, the then script writer for Tahidi High to explain to us the benefits Literature in our future careers. A dark student wearing a dark Nigerian cap with a deep, commanding voice asked a question that really startled everyone. Mbugua was a little taken aback. Not so much for the question but by the way it was posed.
The whole class was silent. There I knew that a star was seated amongst us.

That very evening, while shopping (actually reading a poetry book in the bookshop instead of buying it) the tall confident man walked up to me and greeted me before giving me an easy friendly chat.

“You shouldn’t buy that book here. In town it is most likely cheaper and can save you some Ksh 50, which will be good for your airtime.”He said. I didn’t know how to express my self in English as well and opted to sheng. The negro had quite some nerve and admirable. We walked down town; he was shopping for a success card for his folks.

We became the best of buddies. Inseparable. His name was David Osiany. A talented orator who grew to become the Faculty of Arts representative in first year and the SONU chair in second year. Though he had a rather dramatic end to his career in student politics, I bet he set for higher things and wish him all the best.

Three years later, much has really transpired. I have only dated a couple of times. I have dated a pretty little thing whom I really had hots on. Her smile lit my day. She will hate this but she was a virgin and she really loved me. We had our moments. The nights we spent braving the cold outside Hall 13 are particularly memorable.

Sadly, we had to party ways. She was tired of my ever busy schedule. She wanted love and I could never deliver. She moved on and has retained her next boyfriend to date. Not bad by me.

I have tried a Facebook affair that proved awry. I tried my classmate who possess the cutest dimples but it proved a bad experiment and I hope the pretty girl will forgive me and I will summon up the courage to tell her what exactly happened.

I have had my fair share of unhealthy crushes and rejections. I’m not complaining. I have gotten used to and immune. One particular crush nearly brought me down and nearly cost my life. Overcoming the crush was the best thing that has ever happened. I remember dragging the chick into one of the lecture theatres to tell her the truth. It was sad. I felt like a sheep walking on two feet. She just dismissed me in the most casual manner in the history of dismissal. My God, did she have to be too cruel.

But more importantly I have become mature, less dependent on my sister who has been like my mother and whom I really owe the world. Sometimes when a chick calls me a chauvinist I can’t help wondering because I love women. It is women who have turned my life around; my benevolent aunt Helen, my sister Ezinah and my departed Mum whom I only saw for 11 years but whose soul drives me daily.

I will dedicate the latter part to the friends departed.

The Departed

Sometime in April 2008, at the height of the SONU elections of which I was a key player in my own league, a short, seemingly humble, young man approached me and asked me to vote for him for the conressmanship of HALL 5. At the time it was about ODM/PNU. He was Luo and I could have easily voted for him for ODM ties. But my friend Marto (He calls himself Scaggs, check him on Facebook, my God where does he gets such a name, yet he so mature) had requested me to vote for him and friendship overrode my ethnic inclinations.

The young Luo chap reportedly won but was rigged. His name was Linus Onanda. Linus perished in a freaky road accident along Nairobi-Garisa road. That death gripped us and brought with I the fickleness of life. The capriciousness. We were out of session but we did manage to marshal up our energy under the able leadership of David Osiany, we went down to Siaya and gave Linus a send off as befitting as it could be to a comrade. That was a dream cut short and a terrible loss for the family. I hope that Linus is in a better place.

When I joined campus, my first roommate was a tall, quick gentleman called Simon from Thika. He bought Soda, did quick introductions and disappeared. Among the initial things we did was to sneak into the neighboring room and get a mattress with cover. In the next room, I met a young man with his peasant father ostensibly trying to have one of those father-son talks about HIV/AIDS and the likes.

The young amn’s name was Dick Kamweru. We grew to become good neighbours, never minding getting the iron boxes and any other borrowables as it is common in our halls of residences.

I remember once Dick was coming from town drunk when he decided to pick on his clothes from the clothing line. It was 3 in the morning going four.

Someone must have spotted him before letting out the murderous cry of Mwizi and all hell broke loose. He ran all his way to my room for his keys, where they had left them.

I defended him, well, and guys were convinced that he was only picking his clothes.

Dick traveled to Nakuru for a wedding and sadly perished in a road accident at only 22. I have never been more saddened. Dick, I hope you in better place too.

But the most shocking experience was the shooting of Godwin Ogato Gisairo outside Hall 11 March 2009. Ogato, though my kinsman, I had never met him on a person to person save for the occasional Hi. On the fateful night, I had stumbled upon him but just exchanged casually on the shooting of the two human rights activists along State House road; Oscar King’ara and GPO Oulu. This so far is the highlight of my stay in the University.

It was painful losing three young Kenyans quite unnecessarily and I know God will reward those behind it accordingly. We did go home to bury Ogato, it was a bitter experience. The parents and the folks felt it. I empathized with the young pretty daughter called Chelsea that Ogato was leaving behind. She didn’t know that the father was gone and gone forever. Why did the three have to die…Truth will out?

Anyway, this is too emotional for me. I have gathered my lessons.

At least I know I will never meet my future wife in college. At least I know women are as bad liars as men. At least I have learnt that campus women are the worst possible breed of women.

I know that being broke can limit one’s access to beautiful women. I know the power of peer pressure, or else beer would still be a bitter experience. I have learnt the kind of friends to trust and those not trust. I have unlearnt my prejudices and rethought my stereotypes. The most beautiful chick in our class on consensus is a Maasai.
I have given much but I have received little. But I know that there are places where I should have given more than I received but never did. I know the value of family and can never let it down.

I could have gone on but we shall be interacting on this very blog.

Fresha Pap updates; One laid

Fresha Pap updates

PG: This blog will occasionally contain obscene scenes and language, but kindly bear with the writer as he is only interested in disseminating the truth as he only knows it.

“By the way I’m not interested in becoming your boyfriend,” BB, told a fresha after a brief afternoon lay.
“Neither am I.” Said the fresha rather curtly.

As a man if woman told you that, you feel cheated, used, abused and rather short-changed. BB thought that he could use the fresha and dump her just like that. But, contrary to his presumed prowess, this fresha proved a smart ass.

BB is your typical bad boy in campus. He has laid countless women. Has no morals. Drinks everything and smokes every smokables. He likes sex, alcohol and money. I have often opined that he is the SI unit of immorality. A fact that he has never refutes. He beat every one in our clique to the race of bedding a fresha. Quite unsurprisingly.

But his encounter is just one of those forgettable recreational sex that we all one in a while engage in. Nothing home to write about. No big ‘O’. No emotions. No sweet nothings. Just like picking from the red light only that in this case the woman does not ask for money and she too enjoys.

As indicated in my earlier blogs, there are freshaz whose generosity will be the most talked about thing in our hostels for the next few days to come. Here is a quick guide on how to go about the freshaz.

1.Spot the beauty.
Over time, I have come to learn that the prettiest women are the easiest to date, go out with or even lay. They are insecure. Unsure of what goes around this weird, wide, wild world. They come in two versions: that so annoyingly conscious of their looks and full of themselves and everything has to revolve around them. And there are those who are unconscious of their looks and just comfy and content about life. Go for the latter. They are sober and often are bright. They have that scarce intellectual nerve that can drive a conversation.

Pick one beauty, carry out an easy conversation and listen to her vain aspirations, hopes and wishes and move on to feed them. If she does not drink, you shouldn’t too. If she is religious, please be. Whatever her dislikes are, move away from them. Promise her longevity in that relationship. Assure her all the confidence. If she has never been heartbroken, she can love you so much. Sometimes she can go on to be you’re the girl you have been looking for.

2.Spot the player
No can ever be so annoying by being played by a woman, much less by a starry-eyed, excited fresha. It beats up being beaten up. Unacceptable. If she has the tendency of hanging out with curious company of either male or female, keep off. If she is a party animal, keep off. If she picks three phone calls every five minutes, keep off. If she drinks too much and acts loose, keep off. If she hugs every male friend of hers with her boobs upfront, kindly keep off. If the only time you know about her whereabouts is when she is with you and keeps her physical locations secret…run.
3.Spot the heartbroken
Dating a heartbroken woman is easy and hard. Easy, if she has accepted the inevitability of the past, ready to deal with the present challenges and cares less about the uncertainties of the future. Hard if she lives in the past. If you are meeting a fresha who has just broken up with her adolescent boyfriend, you will have to be very technical. Promise her that you will not break her heart and kindly please do not.

I live by the creed, if you cannot appreciate a woman enough, leaver her alone. There is always someone out there who can love her better.
4.Spot the virgin

Unbelievably, there a number of virgins amongst fresha. There are those who are now ready to encounter their life’s biggest unchanging g experience. They are searching for that special man to unlock the door of joy, pleasure, unbridled delight. For the first time, they will learn that their bodies have powers to bring a potent mixture of enchantment. For the first time, they will discover why sex is the only that thing that drives humanity. The reason, they will be pursuing the damn degree. The reason they will be waking up every morning.

If you run into a virgin, give her the best. It is a special day. Don’t be rushy. Treat her to her demands. Penetration can be a little bit hard, so hold on until she is sufficiently ready. By the time she gives you the green light, go in slooooooooooowly and release the wild oats that will stir her as she gets ushered into the world’s only known standard measure of equality.

Fresha Pap Series 1

Once again, Main campus received averagely beautiful chicks, who all seemed to me that they will join the numerous church groupings, Scouts, Aisec and those pretentious clubs that make them chicks so annoyingly principled.
I spent a great deal of Tuesday trying to notice a beau, a sight for sore eyes but I didn’t notice something incredibly beautiful. At some point in the day some short Kao Chick showed up. Boy, wasn’t she some really piece of meat (no offence nor pun intended.)That ass was the roundest I have seen in long time though it can’t beat the ass of a certain second year who has an ass that has a life of its own. Let us talk about her.
It is like nothing I have ever seen. Her buttocks seem to be having healing powers. Every man in this university who has seen it quite agrees, they don’t come rounder, shapelier, sexier, and beautiful than that. If you walking behind her at about 7.55 for a class of 8, and she is strolling, you will definitely be late. They are firm and in place. She is tall and has the grace and swag of Peahen or peacock.
And boy, she dresses it. She has hot pants, tights; skirts all that are just tailor made. She is conscious that she has an ass and confident of the fact. But she dates the least likely character. The basis of their relationship has eluded me and a million men who stay in campus. Either the man is well hang or they belong to a cult (Esther Arunga-Hellon-Timberlasky) style. But to this we shall return in subsequent blogs.
So back to freshaz and the specifically to the comparable Kao Chick. She had rings around her face, her ears, her nose, her tongue, presumably on her navel and you know where else. She was sexy and her disposition was just as enchanting. Hopefully she has not carried along into campus her former boyfriend and I hope she won’t be just another gold digger who will be eating and drinking the broke-assed men that constitute the majority of men in campus. I’m definitely in the long list that will be hawking lies to get her attention. I hope that I will be the best man who will win.
The rest of the freshaz, were not worth writing home about, but I take this opportunity to introduce my lecture series on freshaz.
So keep it here daily or weekly updates, including refreshing rumours about the golden and silvery rush.

The Intelectual Bitch

The Intellectual bitch

She has been referred as the career woman. Some call her the corporate woman. Neyo Called her Miss Independent. In some female glossy magazine, they are referred as the Alpha female. I call her the intellectual bitch. We all know them. We bump into them in our lecture rooms, heavily opinionated. They know what they want and go for it as they heart pushes them.

We can as well put her into perspective, shall we? She is beautiful and has brains. More and more beautiful women are disapproving the popular notion that beauty and brain, chalk and cheese. In this University, for instance, Chiromo where Sciences are pursued is the place where you can found a pretty face after another. But I digress.

The intellectual bitch is an irritating woman. She sucks. And my beef with them this week has little to do with their hard earned success. Neither does it have to do with whether they got there through the bedroom or the boardroom. It has everything to do with their often repugnant and fiery attitude.

They loathe and despise everyone around them. Her house girl is ever slow and dirty. Her relatives are thankless ingrates that she has grown sick and tired of helping. Her boyfriend must always be available at her beck and call or else ship out. She does not need men in her life. She considers all her workmates as inferior and believes that naturally her opinion and decisions are final, superior and should not be contested. She is a control freak.

These unsmiling lasses believe that they are entitled to all good things in life. A good car. A good House. A good bank account. A good man. A good job. And to their credit they do work hard. But is until you interact with them that discover how plastic and nylon they are. They are so full of themselves, so self-absorbed. They so much like the woman in the mirror that they think she is the best thing that happened in this world.

They have this false aura that they are in charge. They got their shit together and duly in control. They can only date if the man is ready to be a lesser being in the relationship.

To be continued…
This week, though,I will be dealing with freshaz.


Fresha Pap

It is the moment we have all been waiting for. A kind reward for our patience in this University. A climax of our stay in this university. A crowning and befitting gift as we edge out of this Great Institution. It is justice after three years of witnessing freshaz taken by the tallest, oldest, monied old individuals.
Come October 12, freshaz, /10 will join this University and with that many fourth years will run for gold. In the days gone, it used to be called Golden Rush (must have been a promotion in 80s and 90s.). In recent times, it has been labeled ponyoka na fresha and now, Family Bank’s Pesa Pap couln’t have been more apt for the promotion running from next week to the next number of weeks.

It is funny how time flies. Only three years ago, many girls from my class seemed untouchable. They ignored us, treated us with utmost contempt and outrightly chose to look up or out for men. Now it is our time to get the hot and bothered, pretty and beautiful, cute and nice, slender and fat, tall and short, smart and dumb, the good, the bad and the ugly of the freshaz.

And what a joy? It is always good to get the freshest, juiciest thighs. Thighs that ooze oomph and erotic excitement. It is always good to grab boobs that posses that pubescent sexual ease that you hardly come by past first year. Ok, let us have one thing straight. I’m not sexually debauched. Or Am I?

Personally, I’ll put a want ad for the one of them that I want. Something chocolaty and a nice pair legs. I think legs are my fetish in these things. She should be considerably short, witty and feminine. Two to three will do me good. But I digress, and I hope the missus will skip this post.

Every fourth year really anticipates the next few weeks, save for the uncalled for examinations. It is a beautiful and joyous occasion. Doing all that sampling, capitalizing on their naiveté and milking the moment for all it’s worth. And as usual, every year brings with it four types of freshaz…here we go

1. The loose category

Within two weeks they would have slept with 23 men, had a combi, and blew a number of ‘em dicks, slept in different unnatural positions. By the third week, she would have partaken in a combi consisting a gang of four to six men. She will be the easiest lay that every Tom, Dick and Harry and especially Dick will have.

After a few weeks, she will settle with someone, especially from her class or much older and will lock her pants henceforth. She will quit alcohol and be cautious. Most likely in her encounters, she could have picked a sobering venereal or got a pregnancy that she instantly aborts. Many men will be wondering afterwards why she becomes very mean.

I’m still investigating that and will find out from girls of my year who belonged to this category. Hopefully, they will open up.
More often than not, they are of average beauty but with certain foregrounded feature, mostly their asses or boobs or sometimes a particularly outstanding face.

2. The Hottest unreachable ones

Possibly the beautiful in that particular lot. They are irresistible. Mostly from a national school. Confidence is their middle name. Sometimes from poshy backgrounds and posses an attitude as big and wide as the under construction Thika Highway.
They come already dating someone from outside who will be dropping them in a souped up car. They party in exclusive joints and will be hardly seen in campus between, Friday 5pm till Monday 10am.

They dress superbly. Do their make up well and will remain a fantasy to many men in campus. If they have to date a man in campus, they are normally faithful and clingy. They can date anyone from their class but will stick to it. Sorry she does not take up jokers or those interested in a quick lay.

3. The Carols, Annes, Marys:The average ones

First, apologies to all the Carols, Annes, Marys of my life. Quite frankly the Carols in my life are above average, but this is for those average, majority chicks who fall in this category. They are average in their looks, in class, in terms of their arguments and lost in the masses.

They date average men. They take relationships seriously. Believe that love exists. Get a dozen heartbreaks before eventually admitting that love is a strange thing. So much for the enemy called average.

4. The religious type

She will form the audience for the congregations in churches for the next number of days for the overzealous evangelicals who surface from nowhere as soon as the freshaz settle. This group will be in charge of Bible study groups where some rogue men go to pick the desperate ones, and capitalize on their naiveté to lay them. They are a tad difficult dealing with. Often impossible. We shall deal with the later.