Every guy’s dream is for their wife to dress up in 20 seconds or less. They all want
a Katy Perry by their side in a snap. Men, we cannot all be Katy Perry! Who will be
Diaz or Waitherero? You think we like stabbing our eyes with eyeliner, fitting in
jeans we haven’t worn in years and finding a blouse that goes with the shoes in 2
hours. And you say ‘mwanaume Ni effort’. Shame on you!
Personally I get ready in an hour, okay maybe an hour and a half. That includes
choosing clothes that much my mood; make up, applying oil on my body and
doing my hair, trust me I make it sound easy. Ladies understand what I mean.
That time frame excludes taking a shower and breakfast of course.
I don’t know how men do it, to me getting ready in 15 minutes is like telling me to
do my nails in an hour! It’s physically impossible unless you mean applying the
base coat only. Women like paying attention to details, that’s why what a man
can do; a woman can order another man to redo it. Poor men, they just don’t get
it.
A couple living together have to share everything from food to the bed and
sometimes clothes. Don’t get it twisted, I mean like the wife can wear the
husband’s shirt but the husband CANNOT wear the wife’s under garments. With
all this sharing going on, people get suicidal sometimes. Larry and Lily live
together and it has been a week now. Check this out.
(Both get up late; 7 in the morning and simultaneously get their towels)
Lily and Larry: (concurrently) Am going to shower first, you will go in after me!
Lily: No it doesn’t work like that and you know it. Be a teddy bear and get the
breakfast ready (gently slaps his cheek) Larry: No that doesn’t seem right, you are the woman so go prepare breakfast as I
shower. Plus you usually take long in the shower (whips her behind with a towel)
(Two wrongs in less than five minutes, somebody is about to get knocked out)
Lily: could you repeat that because I heard something stupid and you know stupid
and my ear are like poles: repel (raising her brows while fixating on the eyeliner
behind him)
Larry: (gulps loudly) I just said we men should go prepare breakfast as you
shower…. (Mummers the rest of the words)
Lily: I swear I heard something completely different. Anyway thanks babe! (Gets
into the bathroom)
Larry: (Mummers) for a woman who spends so much time in the shower, has
some pretty stuffy ears.
Lily: I heard that you fool!
Larry: (jets out as he sings) mbona mbona mbona….
(45 minutes down the line, Lily comes out of the shower picks the showering gel
and rushes back in; it looks like Larry will shower at his neighbour’s place AGAIN)
Larry: Lily give me my towel, I’m going to showers at Joe’s (hoping for sympathy)
Lily: You don’t have to, just do a passport at the kitchens sink (handing him the
towel)
Larry: To think I said till death do us part (sighs as he dashes out)
Damn! Its eight, I should be at work by half past 9 (growls) (At Joe’s)
Larry: Joe! Joe! Open up! Come on! Am naked in the hall way (Gary, the gay guy
opens his door)
Gary: Come on over baby, I got the new shampoo by Mary Kay! You will smell of
fabulousity! I promise
Larry: Joe! Please save me! He is wearing the Justin Beriberi shirt with pink shorts!
Joe: (Thinking out loud) I keep on hearing voices, so weird that I dream of Larry
maybe am turning into Gary, I wonder if being gay is communicable (wakes up
from the shock)
Garry: OMG you just said Justin Beriberi! Its Beiber! Men just don’t get it. But I
can let you fix my shower (purrs)
Larry: Joe! Please open up the door! (Crying like a baby)
Joe: (Opens up) don’t you have water connection at your place? Pahali VAT
imenifikisha…… (Keeps quiet as he sees Lily) Good morning Lily
(Lily comes out shouting Larry’s name)
Larry: Now is when you are getting out of the shower, why are you not dressed?
Lily: Morning Joe (notices Gary staring at Larry) boy you better keep your eyes and
your shampoo off my man or you’ll know I am more of a man than you’ll ever be!
Larry you better stop asking dumb questions if you know what’s good for you.
Larry: (in a loud voice) what is with the threats? I feel like I am in Syria and there is
no Obama to hold things together. Do you know how stressful that is? (Everyone in their floor gets out and stares at him, little Johnny comes and steps
on his toes)
Larry: (On his knees) Why Obama? Why?
Joe: Lily you don’t even need clothes, with that towel you look better than Celine
Dion in my heart will go on!
(Everybody turns and looks at him)
Joe: What? She is a great singer! Shoot me! (Thinking) being gay is communicable!
Damn you Gary!!!!!!!!
Larry: STOP HITTING ON MY WIFE (tries to strangle him)
Joe: Since we share a shower then let’s share a wife (pushing him to the ground)
(Everybody gulps in dismay)
Larry: I can explain, it isn’t what it seems to be (gulps too)
Lily: mmmm…I wouldn’t mind
(People start whispering that he is a bisexual)
Larry: Am not even showering, let us just go! I have to be in court by 9:30 and its
9:15
Lily: You sure about the showering? (Raising her eyebrows as she takes a few
steps back)
Larry: (as he dresses) yeah am sure, why? Lily: Nothing let’s just go then.
(They get into the car; Lily takes the back seat on the far right)
Larry: Ohhh! I get it!
Lily: No I don’t want to make you feel bad. It’s just that…
Larry: (interrupting) you want to look like you are the rich girl on your first day at
work and that you have chauffer. It’s totally cool. I get it.
Lily: (sarcastically) yeah that’s exactly what I had in mind
(Arrives at her work place, Larry leans over for a kiss as Lily opens the door to jet
out)
Lily: Honey, you are my chauffer! People don’t kiss their employees
Larry: (smiling) you are so right. I married an astute woman
Lily: (mummers) and I married a skunk!
Larry: What honey?
Lily: I love you so much
Larry: I love you too (speeds off)
(He arrives at work at 10:30am)
Security: Morning si… (Smells the stench) whoa! You smell like my wife’s cooking Larry: Morning Con, she must be a very good cook then
Security: (nodding) Yeah that’s why I am always on leave coz of food poisoning
(Everyone in the lobby laughs, Larry gets in the elevator)
Larry: (thinking out loud) I wonder why he is called Con and he works as the
security at a law firm which deals with criminal cases.
Stranger 1: I wonder the same thing. Maybe it’s the same reason why you are a
lawyer and you can’t smell a dirty job right under your nose
Larry: What does that mean? You also think Con sells drugs? That wretch! I bet he
thinks I will represent him in court because he gets my morning coffee.
Stranger 1: (shakes his head, thinks to himself) what a dumb lawyer! Am never
allowing my son to become one
(Larry gets in his office and finds his boss, Mr. King seated on his chair)
Mr. King: In the next one minute I want you to pack and leave the building, no
questions asked, no eyebrows raised and most certainly no jaws dropped. You
stink! I mean literally! (Larry smells himself) Go shower or something
Larry: So that’s why she took the back seat, there I was thinking she wanted a
royal treatment! I can’t believe it has been me all this time; I should’ve showered
at Gary’s! He does have pretty nice shampoos (realises he is fired) wait boss, boss,
boss, sir please…………………
(To be continued)
-waithererodaisy@gmail.com
Friday 11 October 2013
YOUR MAJESTY…..THE QUEEN by Diaz Waitherero
Mirror, mirror on the wall did I just sleep throughout my hairdo? I hate
it when the answer is yes. All ladies ask themselves this question after a
new hairdo. If she doesn’t then she must be bald. Any hairdo should
complement your face, no doubt to that belief. Though I also think it
should also work well with your personality. No need to look like Size 8
when you are a Mwai Kibaki’s protégé. It’s socially awkward.
I have evolved from long natural hair to chemical-filled hair to the side
fringe to the front fringe and recently to weaves. According to my mum
the latter is called horse hair. She believes they make you look like you
are half a century; mind you she is also fifty so that makes me her twin.
Talk about a direct slur. I have to admit my best looks were my side
fringe and my bang. Cutting my hair was indeed worth it. Then the
weave cold was caught. That feeling you get after you are advised
against something but you do it anyway and it goes wrong. Somebody
shoot me. It’s weird that every time I say that, no one actually does.
The hitch with chemical-filled hair is that it gets growth. It really doesn’t
look pretty then after growth, it sheds like a snake shedding skin. After
a while you walk around looking like an egg with hair; it doesn’t exist.
Every lady experienced this, so men when you see good hair offer
money for better hair. Soon after the lass gets another crazy idea, that
bald is the new better. Well I agree a shave does look better than the
invisible strand hanging from the middle of your scalp. Shaves it,
applies Vaseline blue seal and wears loops. Then she thinks she looks
like Amber Rose! Ladies you wonder why you look more like Oliver than
Olivia. So the hair is chopped off or rather shed, what’s next? Let’s all do Nikki
Minaj. If you don’t have fake eyelashes and eyebrows to balance your
facial hair with the hair on your head; don’t do it. Of course no one will
listen to a person who spends a lot of time looking at animals than
actual humans. I love you Rongai. The point is; don’t wear a wig. PS; if
it’s raining, rain drops won’t be the only things falling.
I always want the best for my hair so before going all horse hair on
every one, I decided to Google. Of course there is Google in Rongai,
haters! As usual I passed out before hitting search, it’s the same way
sleeping pills are your insomnia’s enemy. I woke up early that day, a
little bit after noon just to convince myself that my hair needs a
synthetic replacement. Courage gathered, money loaned and mind lost,
I was like David and the weave was my Goliath or is it the other way
round?
It’s half past one and I am still trying to open the lock to leave. There
wasn’t anything wrong with the lock; I just felt good standing at the
gate and passing time. My other option was to jump over the wall and
break my leg so that I don’t go; it wasn’t that alluring. Finally I decided
to go to the salon. It was the fastest ride of my life; the driver went all
Usain Bolt on me. So there I was, so young and so innocent betraying
what my mother gave me. It was the death of me, literally.
“Daise, tuende tukanunue wifu ya jwele”. That’s my stylist talking, now
you see why I spent an hour opening the lock. She takes me to one of
those beauty shops that sell ‘mutura’ outside. We all say that the best
marketer is the one who uses or wears their own product. Now that is
only applicable when you actually look good in it. The shop owner
seemed to be loyal to the products she sells. Its either she had a bad
hair day or the piece of meat dangling between her teeth took all the attention. I actually paid six hundred and fifty shillings for this plastic
thing on my head.
Two-three hours of closing and opening my eyes, okay that’s a lie, I
couldn’t even move my eyeball. I was pushed and pulled all through; it
was like I left the constitution at the door. If I could take my stylist to
court she would be charged with violence, emotional damage,
mortification and currently embarrassing episodes. My new fake hair
was bigger than my head, covering half of my face and smelt like some
perfume from North Eastern. A perfect example of a tornado, it was
blowing everyone away.
I looked like I walked out of a runway which isn’t a good thing when you
are living in a reserved neighbourhood. Either way, I owned my hair,
literally. I did the pretty girl walk all the way home; I even did the girl in
the wind thing, thanks to the air conditioner in a nearby building. I
made heads turn, maize corns drop and cars hoot though I think the car
hoot was due to my selective blindness but who cares. I was the ‘it girl’
for those few moments and that was what was important.
It has now been 96 hours 40 minutes and 20 seconds without seeing
the light of day, but who is counting. I bet I will look like the sun by
tomorrow if I will not have exhausted the oxygen in the house. Despite
having episodes of hate with my new do, I love the fact that it looks the
same way all the time. I mean all the time; after sleeping, showering
and even running. It’s like having an umbrella made of stone; it never
blows away!!Cheers to all horse hair lovers.
-waithererodaisy@gmail.com
it when the answer is yes. All ladies ask themselves this question after a
new hairdo. If she doesn’t then she must be bald. Any hairdo should
complement your face, no doubt to that belief. Though I also think it
should also work well with your personality. No need to look like Size 8
when you are a Mwai Kibaki’s protégé. It’s socially awkward.
I have evolved from long natural hair to chemical-filled hair to the side
fringe to the front fringe and recently to weaves. According to my mum
the latter is called horse hair. She believes they make you look like you
are half a century; mind you she is also fifty so that makes me her twin.
Talk about a direct slur. I have to admit my best looks were my side
fringe and my bang. Cutting my hair was indeed worth it. Then the
weave cold was caught. That feeling you get after you are advised
against something but you do it anyway and it goes wrong. Somebody
shoot me. It’s weird that every time I say that, no one actually does.
The hitch with chemical-filled hair is that it gets growth. It really doesn’t
look pretty then after growth, it sheds like a snake shedding skin. After
a while you walk around looking like an egg with hair; it doesn’t exist.
Every lady experienced this, so men when you see good hair offer
money for better hair. Soon after the lass gets another crazy idea, that
bald is the new better. Well I agree a shave does look better than the
invisible strand hanging from the middle of your scalp. Shaves it,
applies Vaseline blue seal and wears loops. Then she thinks she looks
like Amber Rose! Ladies you wonder why you look more like Oliver than
Olivia. So the hair is chopped off or rather shed, what’s next? Let’s all do Nikki
Minaj. If you don’t have fake eyelashes and eyebrows to balance your
facial hair with the hair on your head; don’t do it. Of course no one will
listen to a person who spends a lot of time looking at animals than
actual humans. I love you Rongai. The point is; don’t wear a wig. PS; if
it’s raining, rain drops won’t be the only things falling.
I always want the best for my hair so before going all horse hair on
every one, I decided to Google. Of course there is Google in Rongai,
haters! As usual I passed out before hitting search, it’s the same way
sleeping pills are your insomnia’s enemy. I woke up early that day, a
little bit after noon just to convince myself that my hair needs a
synthetic replacement. Courage gathered, money loaned and mind lost,
I was like David and the weave was my Goliath or is it the other way
round?
It’s half past one and I am still trying to open the lock to leave. There
wasn’t anything wrong with the lock; I just felt good standing at the
gate and passing time. My other option was to jump over the wall and
break my leg so that I don’t go; it wasn’t that alluring. Finally I decided
to go to the salon. It was the fastest ride of my life; the driver went all
Usain Bolt on me. So there I was, so young and so innocent betraying
what my mother gave me. It was the death of me, literally.
“Daise, tuende tukanunue wifu ya jwele”. That’s my stylist talking, now
you see why I spent an hour opening the lock. She takes me to one of
those beauty shops that sell ‘mutura’ outside. We all say that the best
marketer is the one who uses or wears their own product. Now that is
only applicable when you actually look good in it. The shop owner
seemed to be loyal to the products she sells. Its either she had a bad
hair day or the piece of meat dangling between her teeth took all the attention. I actually paid six hundred and fifty shillings for this plastic
thing on my head.
Two-three hours of closing and opening my eyes, okay that’s a lie, I
couldn’t even move my eyeball. I was pushed and pulled all through; it
was like I left the constitution at the door. If I could take my stylist to
court she would be charged with violence, emotional damage,
mortification and currently embarrassing episodes. My new fake hair
was bigger than my head, covering half of my face and smelt like some
perfume from North Eastern. A perfect example of a tornado, it was
blowing everyone away.
I looked like I walked out of a runway which isn’t a good thing when you
are living in a reserved neighbourhood. Either way, I owned my hair,
literally. I did the pretty girl walk all the way home; I even did the girl in
the wind thing, thanks to the air conditioner in a nearby building. I
made heads turn, maize corns drop and cars hoot though I think the car
hoot was due to my selective blindness but who cares. I was the ‘it girl’
for those few moments and that was what was important.
It has now been 96 hours 40 minutes and 20 seconds without seeing
the light of day, but who is counting. I bet I will look like the sun by
tomorrow if I will not have exhausted the oxygen in the house. Despite
having episodes of hate with my new do, I love the fact that it looks the
same way all the time. I mean all the time; after sleeping, showering
and even running. It’s like having an umbrella made of stone; it never
blows away!!Cheers to all horse hair lovers.
-waithererodaisy@gmail.com
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