But one might perhaps think I am being too harsh for a slight error that could just as easily be on any newspaper in the world. I do not disagree. I just think if you are slowly trying to turn the nation’s lead newspaper into some sort of child porn front, you need to be more discreet than that what the New Vision did a few weeks ago. So what are we telling the Red Pepper? That they should just up the ante?
- The soundtrack is defined at certain critical points when definitive sexual and sensual moments are afoot. Women, ensure your man knows your soundtrack.
- Some will how do I do this? Well, when you guys are getting freaky, play it off the stereo or your phone, in the post-coital afterglow (while he naps), make sure eth songs you like are on repeat, that way it subconsciously seeps into his mind. He will never feel right humping another woman with that music on. It short circuits his cheating mechanism.
- Assuming this is hogwash is the kind of foolishness is what will get your guy getting freaky to any type of trash music because he has no soundtrack. Listen. Get a freaking soundtrack.
- My advice is don’t play it off the radio especially Capital FM because of all the bubble gum music they play. You don’t want the guy stuck on Alex Ndawula’s or Jimmy Jones’ soundtrack (both of whom have no Wikipedia pages). You’re trying to improve the bastard, not main his psyche for life.
- Invest in a quality, distinctive, unique soundtrack. Remember that soundtracks are a series of songs often with a similar theme and a strong undercurrent that should be able to deliver the same feeling every time. So one song will just not do. Buy a memory card, an iPod, a stereo or start eating bananas to sharpen your voice. You need at least a whole album.
- Whenever people tell you “that’s the song we danced to the first time we met”. They are lying. Curse them to hell because really what they are saying is that it was the song they first “did the deed” to.
- This is a warning to all player boys out there – stay away from other people’s soundtracks. It may seem smooth to be soulless by being able to relate to some random guy’s soundtrack while you do his woman. But it isn’t. These days you hear girls talking about how “shallow guys are”. It’s because of you twats. You guys give us a bad name. You have to be able to enter a woman’s universe and she can feel how palpable your soundtrack is. All of a sudden the music in her life seems to have twang of you in it. Hence when you are gone, so is your music, your soundtrack and your essence. Even though you remain in her subconscious (*snigger snigger*)
- Movie soundtracks are cool, you know Hans Zimmer on Megamind but you don’t want to mess with Gladiator, The Dark Knight or even Inception; the darkness might be too much. I just recently graduated from the Mission Impossible soundtrack because it wasn’t working – face it, no one will let you hump them to Tom Cruise’s pattering feet. Feel free to experiment with a variety mix but I would generally steer clear of entire movie soundtracks. Sit down and compile something that’s you.
- Even though when we are growing up we are inevitably exposed to our parent’s music and influences, you should, as you grow, strive to veer away from this acidic leverage. Or else you end up…
Then there was the scenario when an ex girlfriend of mine sent me a text on one of those Bubbles’ quiz nights. She asked where I was. I said I was at Bubbles. She asked if she could come. I said she could. When she texted me in an hour from that time, I said I was heading home. She asked again if she could join. Somehow in my mind I thought she was asking about whether to come to Bubbles. I said yes. This should have been fine except there was already someone at home waiting for me; which is how it got so dramatic.
I get home hug the bowl as I wretch, and go off to sleep. Imagine what I was like when I woke up a couple of hours later to find that the wench who was waiting for me at home and the ex with an axe were seated on the bed asking me to explain what they were both doing in my house.
In that moment I realized that everyman dreads this moment. You live your whole life dreading it. In the post mortem of the situation my best friend then said to me something that I had never understood before:
“Every man dreads it but deep down, deep where no none but he only can see, he wishes it happens to him so he can say “it happened to me and I lived it down”.
In the heat of the moment, though, you never understand how that moment will define you. So I started debating the choice on who to demonize and who to save. Damn the ex, she would be easily expendable. She was the ex after all. And for causing this drama, she deserved it anyway. Or damn the new girl. She knew nothing of this whole drama and her search for answers was met with consternation and derision from the ex. I then had a “Prince-of-Persia” moment where my body almost shifted out of itself and assessed the situation. Which is how I came to one of those king Solomon-esque ideas.
Damn them both.
So I opened my mouth and what happened next I don’t remember but all I remember was it went something like they both needed to leave my house. I didn’t give a shit and I needed to sleep. My alcohol-addled brain seemed to comply with the request to deliver terse, curt and abrupt life lessons. I then dozed off and woke up at midday the following day.
Both were gone.
Frankly I actually thought it was going to get physical and I was worried whether in a moment of drunkenness a man could ever justify an inexcusable action. When it didn’t, I learnt these lessons:
1. The reason why the greatest lovers are stone cold sober is because they cannot afford to have situations they can’t control happening to them.
2. When in doubt about choices, walk away. Everything is dispensable – so is everyone.
3. Never EVER fool yourself that you know what it feels like to be in that situation until you have been in it. And if you have been, wear your badge with pride.
4. If I didn’t work in the industry in which I work, my phone would religiously go off at 12:00. That way I would be unaccountable for all goings on after this time. But mine doesn’t, so here is a word of advice, don’t ever pick calls from your ex after midnight. It’s a trap. It’s always a trap.
5. As I found out, sometimes your ex doesn’t even want to have sex with you, she just wants to make your life miserable and assuage their insecurities. In The 48 laws of Power Robert Greene says in law 40 “Despise the free lunch”. Master this law. Never forget it. If it’s cheap, ignore it. If it’s free, run.
After all that drama everything else seems to pale in importance. But I would be foolish if I did not tell you about this new girl. She is wonderful. Nice MILF with great character. I was thinking I will tell her a story with some spiel about what I have been through, my life story yada yada. She will probably buy the story and before I know it, we will be prancing around town in search of the next best thing. You would think I would want more out of life, wouldn’t you, but quite frankly I don’t.
And that is all I have to say about that…
Orbis non Sufficit
In this second installment of this series I have been doing some thinking about all the elements that go into making a wonderful , well rounded man. Presenting part 2 of the 50 Things every Father should teach his son:
|Father and Son|
You cannot guess what happened to me while I was posting my first blog yesterday.
While I was writing my maiden blog the imbecile came to my place and took all my property. My place was broken into and robbed.They waltzed in, neatly folded 9 dress shirts and all the trousers I own. S/He also saw it fit to take my underwear. So now I have to get back to my place early so I can wash and hang my underwear to dry for use the next day. This is what my dad calls a “coping mechanism.”
I hate that the guy did not leave a note saying where he was going with all the stash. I intend to find the little son of a Mitch(i like that!) and question him in no unkind manner.
So goes my day of the week; a wonderful beginning to the week, don’t you think?
I said if you can find a life to live more full of intrigue than Yours Trully’s speak now or forever shut that trap!!
And you know why I was not in my place when the act of larceny was committed? I had gone to see this girl who was explaining(…actually she was asking) why we could never cut it me and her. She ended with a threatening note in her voice.
So am thinking that the person who stole my stuff was a woman….
Yeah I’ll let that hang in the air for a while
Coz of the following:
1.some one trying to get back at me for a broken heart I instituted against her person at some distant time in our past.
2. Or possibly that girl whose guy left because I suggested that she had rabbit ears and didn’t brush her teeth too often…was it her?
3.Or was it the one who found out that I told I was 5 years older than my real age and was willing to accept me as I was ……until my mom found out.
4, the more likely culprit is my most recently enstranged acquitance who sought my hand in enslavement (read marriage) but was told by a rumour doing the grapevine that I was a transvestite gay guy. The only glitch in the plan was she found out that I was at some point responsible for starting the rumour.
Have your pick but I’ll have my money on Number 3.
There is a phrase I have been reciting lately:
“Never get too attached to something that you can’t afford to lose it”
Yesterday I rued ever saying that phrase.
See you on the flip side
…..Of incoherent speech and thought.
How many people do you know who in the course of one week live to tell a tale of a night at the police station at 3:00am, undercover detective work, a couple of odd propositions, an HIV/AIDS communication plan, all the while doubling as a student in the daytime. I have always had the suspicion that I was paranormal until recently when I had a rude reminder of this:
Doing the work I do requires the clairvoyance of a warlock and I should say here and now the tact of a spy.
The week begins with me trying to trace bags that were supposed to have come in from Heathrow London (sounds like a crappy 90’s movie beginning ,I know.) The airport had mistakenly decided not to include someone’s bags on the flight to Kampala. I am charged on the pain of death to find the bags and deliver them. I have to pull strings so high that I feel the airport is about to declare me anational threat to get the bags but I do. This is all after having an extremely embarrassing situation on Entebbe road in which a woman gets out of her car and prostrates before me; i wonder why. Oh she was in tears too!!
I walk up to this lady… cool accent, great perfume, with a sense of unbeatable self. I tell her:
Me: hi have you noticed that your red hair has brown roots?
Her: Did you just say what i think you said?
Me: what do you think??
And I walk away from her and then drama begins to happen as she realises that her saloonist did a shody job with her hair. i do not want to tell you what happened when she realised that I was messing with her,I still have the marks.
Tie into all of this why i love wearing black and you’ll know why the Blogger’s Happy Hour was a light moment in my week; excruciating as it was. I was nursing a lot of wounded parts and in mournig.
I guess the true proof that I am paranormal is that am writing all of this for you to read.
But kudos to you all!!
May we all live to see eachother die off.(A happy thought)hah?
Till next week