Spot the blogger, this is not just a ball game.
I couldn’t Sleep so I flowed.
What’s Ernest’s secret shame?
No Serugo answers here or Garuga deals here!
Sometimes watching all of you back here I don’t know what I’m going to write before I begin. Really. Am I going to quit today or am I going to go on because it’s just another Queen Latifahless day on and on about something that has been just below the surface of my mind like the peerless eels I used to see gliding in village streams dancing to be hooked and grilled by wise country boys? Do I tell you I got back with my ex, I started drinking again or would you take that as just sensational? Another just being me day madandcrazy? Not everything is what it seems, listen!
That guy was right Cheri, only geeks’ blog and it don’t matter the brand name on your jeans. Roca-wear doesn’t count because Jay-Z’s a geek too. Inktus was right, geeks are cool. In their own minds though! Welcome to the club LA though you put on a new coat. I did not know The Game’s life was so violent before the fame. This must be what 2Pac meant when he quipped that before he cut a record he did not have a police record, only the other way round here! My 2pac year is supposed to be over and I used to think the coolest ancient author around was Geoffrey Chaucer before I began reading the assembled best of compilations of Villon’s life before a tattered Brian copy showed me Mbella Sonne Dipoko. And I’m wondering. How many of you have figured out who Mataachi is? I used to think I had. But now I don’t know.
I have been trying to get in touch with Barbara Kimenye for a revisit of Kalasanda before I go to Kalasanda Revisited. I still think The People’s Bachelor by Austin Bukenya is the best ever Ugandan novel written so far. Not that it will always remain that way. My only dread is that a Faculty of Arts stairs sitting reminiscence by the great Ngugi could come true visiting Makerere University for the first time in almost 30 years that the best writer he had ever met, when he was young and the greatness of his short stories was only in his own mind, never wrote again after they left college, drifting for love into a profession and foregoing a passion.
Was N.W.A that great, inform me Baz because I’m supposed to be blogging about you in young Ugandans to Watch but I just couldn’t because I knew your surprising modesty would wilt like many roadside daisies are doing in these highway days when the sun shines more in the year than it ever rains. I can’t believe Scotchbiscuits did not win something in the first blogger awards because she is one of the essential blogs in my everyday menu, fortnightly fulfilling me. You asked what did I use to surf on the net about before this blogging obsession begun and while I know, it’s like asking Abba-style what life was like the day before you came, before the loved one came, the one.
The unfairness of it all is like the 2006 PAM Awards where General Mega Dee did not win anything because Iryn Namubiru and a bunch of other people were brilliant in the same flowering. The Kanye West-Jaime Foxx year that produced Golddigga with Collateral Damage going to Troy. You think I have no Kampala example? The Necessary Noize-Juliana Kanyomozi year when Blu*3 didn’t matter but I dare you to ignore BURRN 2007! Magoo thank you for quoting, “He’s got that ambition baby, look at his eyes. Stick by his side.” You’re one of my faves, even if you left the Savagery behind at least you stayed around because Yuda unlike Luda abandoned me in a way worse than Jay did. I don’t even want to start on Eclectic, I’m still trying to get over that and it feels like it’s been more than a year and she’s never coming back, she’s happy. Why do they always do this to me? The Brooklyn Babe gave no warning either and I thought Brooklyn knights came from there! At least I still have my morning meringue, I always think of oranges when it’s my lingering morning Minega!
My Sunday rest is not entirely gone but how can I undo the whole of last year when part of it was my fault? Every year since I took control of my life has been so different that even if Keitetsi platinum burst through with an honesty that she did not fully comprehend, there were the room huddled thinking Kenyans before I discovered the sassy ones and then the Ugandan version came along and I don’t know why I needed a BlackBelt figure to figure this out while one of the most original post names and constant obsessions Degstar fell in love. FELL IN LOVE, fuck! I almost did not see the loveliness of the frog turning prince until it was almost too late. But before Kabamba comes on, there’s always the 27th comrade, the one name recognized to restore courage, to keep you doing it. There’s no need for silence here, we’re not lone wolf Congolese Kate! I was wrong, now I know. Only Undo would believe me if I said this is maybe my last post here because he’s done it in his own life and we have decided crucial life issues in a hostel hostile to chick noise on the toss of a 200 shilling coin and we were not looking at the fish because she does not eat fish. That’s because we are often deaf and nobody believes the guy singing the true beef song, or Jinkeese until the bitter sweet mint of life is on your tongue. This efflorescence is beyond belief! Do you ever look in the mirror, vain vanity aside, and say bannage! I know people who do.
Everyone who knows my amateur collecting of Hip Hop thinks I’m 2Pac obsessed, but that’s because I dare not talk about the sneaky one just as rich nearly like Biggie eternal bachelor the anonymity given up. I said in a faculties in galaxy control that Michael Jackson is one of 3 kings and I wasn’t being biblical although yeah snicker my Bible is under my pillow under my bed because I have a bedside lamp table and Dirty Diana is not in bed with me despite the threatening canes, Modo aside, I stay up all night like an Askari. Pea, the illest, well, the illest is like how the taciturn Austin Bukenya said in The People’s Bachelor:
“This is heroism. Not the throwing of the grenade or the pulling of the trigger, but the physical inactivity of the waiting. And the examples of freedom fighters are perhaps unnecessary extremes. Any case of keeping still would do; from the second wife who sits listening to her husband making love to her co-wife in the next room, the budding writer who checks his pen, despite a feeling of certainty that a new idea has blossomed in his mind, to the village shopkeeper who, outside the coffee and cotton seasons, may not get a customer for six hours on end, to the young graduate who stands thirty minutes at an office reception desk before the standard seven girl behind it before she even asks him what she can do for him. If any of these characters chooses to remain still, arrest all physical activity and concentrate on himself or herself, that character maybe crowned a hero or heroine.”
Baby, flow! Some More.