What could possibly be worse than....

.....having your molar pulled out by a female dentist suffering from PMS?

A wedding. Yep. A wedding, that's what. Especially if you are female. Especially if it's the wedding of a female related to you because your great great great great great grand father and her's wore the same akalas. Especially if her relatives and yours are one and the same. Especially if she is younger than you by a number of years. Especially if you are attending such real or imagined wedding on your own (your handbag or cellphone or sister, cousin, brother, gardener does not count). Especially if you have not stated, are in no danger of stating, might never state the words "I do" while holding someone's hand up in the air (what's up with that?). Especially if all other females in attendance born cirka your year of birth all come endowed with a requisite accessory - a man (qualities are not an issue here. He comes with three legs and you are through).

Oh, there's nothing worse. Yet, while armed with this information, I dared tread where no single woman over 20 should dare venture. Everything was criticised from my bony shoulderblades, my hips or lack thereof, my long claws, my strawlike nywele, my corny feet, my bad skin....and this was before I got to the ceremony! Phew. Talk about being hang to dry. All the "aunts" suddenly become chummy and the entire event becomes Operation-Get-Ichiena-Married. Imagine an aunt popping up with a dude in tow and insisting on introducing you, "Yes, this is Ichiena..mhmmm! She's a qualified XXYY. Goes to church at ABCD. Works for 456." I had an experience where a pals mum came to my office - my office! - with her nephew in tow and insisted that we exchange numbers and promise to call one another. I kid you not. Of course, i always think, if dude is spineless enough to warrant an introduction through an aunt will there be a stiff bone on him?

Anyway, I cut the nonsense short by telling one of the "aunts", who I am certain acquired this title just for this occassion, that I love paka. Now, as to how fast this will get back to my mother.....

In conclusion - anyone i can hire for the next wedding? Males need not apply!


And since this was a wedding post, here are some wedding jokes...hehehe.

The Honeymooners
The nervous young bride became irritated by her husband's lusty advances on their wedding night and reprimanded him severely. "I demand proper manners in bed," she declared, "just as I do at the dinner table."

Amused by his wife's formality, the groom smoothed his rumpled hair and climbed quietly between the sheets. "Is that better?" he asked, with a hint of a smile. "Yes," replied the girl, "much better." "Very good, darling," the husband whispered. "Now would you be so kind as to please pass the cunt."

Ten Husbands, Still A Virgin
A lawyer married a woman who had previously divorced ten husbands. On their wedding night, she told her new husband, "Please be gentle, I'm still a virgin."

"What?" said the puzzled groom. "How can that be if you've been married ten times?"

"Well, Husband #1 was a sales representative; he kept telling me how great it was going to be.

Husband #2 was in software services; he was never really sure how it was supposed to function, but he said he'd look into it and get back to me.

Husband #3 was from field services; he said everything checked out diagnostically but he just couldn't get the system up.

Husband #4 was in telemarketing; even though he knew he had the order, he didn't know when he would be able to deliver.

Husband #5 was an engineer; he understood the basic process but wanted three years to research, implement, and design a new state-of-the-art method.

Husband #6 was from finance and administration; he thought he knew how, but he wasn't sure whether it was his job or not.

Husband #7 was in marketing; although he had a nice product, he was never sure how to position it.

Husband #8 was a psychologist; all he ever did was talk about it.

Husband #9 was a gynecologist; all he did was look at it.

Husband #10 was a stamp collector; all he ever did was... God! I miss him! But now that I've married you, I'm really excited!"

"Good," said the new husband, "but, why?"

"You're a lawyer. This time I know I'm gonna get screwed!"

Oh, and finally, I passed by the castle and those pick-up lines reminded me of these put-down ones:

60 Things Not to Say to a Naked Guy
1. I've smoked fatter joints than that.

2. Ahh, it's cute.

3. Who circumcised you?

4. Why don't we just cuddle?

5. You know they have surgery to fix that.

6. It's more fun to look at.

7. Make it dance.

8. You know, there's a tower in Italy like that.

9. Can I paint a smiley face on that?

10. It looks like a night crawler.

11. Wow, and your feet are so big.

12. My last boyfriend was 4'' bigger.

13. It's ok, we'll work around it.

14. Is this a mild or a spicy Slim Jim?

15. Eww, there's an inch worm on your thigh.

16. Will it squeak if I squeeze it?

17. Oh no, a flash headache.

18. (giggle and point)

19. Can I be honest with you?

20. My 8-year-old brother has one like that.

21. Let me go get my tweezers.

22. How sweet, you brought incense.

23. This explains your car.

24. You must be a growing boy.

25. Maybe if we water it, it'll grow.

26. Thanks, I needed a toothpick.

27. Are you one of those pygmies?

28. Have you ever thought of working in a sideshow?

29. Every heard of clearasil?

30. All right, a treasure hunt!

31. I didn't know they came that small.

32. Why is God punishing you?

33. At least this won't take long.

34. I never saw one like that before.

35. What do you call this?

36. But it still works, right?

37. Damn, I hate baby-sitting.

38. It looks so unused.

39. Do you take steroids?

40. I hear excessive masturbation shrinks it.

41. Maybe it looks better in natural light.

42. Why don't we skip right to the cigarettes?

43. Oh, I didn't know you were in an accident.

44. Did you date Lorena Bobbitt?

45. Aww, it's hiding.

46. Are you cold?

47. If you get me real drunk first.

48. Is that an optical illusion?

49. What is that?

50. I'll go get the ketchup for your french fry.

51. Were you neutered?

52. It's a good thing you have so many other talents.

53. Does it come with an air pump?

54. So this is why you're supposed to judge people on personality.

55. Where are the puppet strings?

56. Your big gun is more like a BB gun.

57. Look, it fits my Barbie clothes.

58. Never mind, why bother.

59. Is that a second belly button?

60. Where's the rest of it?

We are Depressed / Estatic

Monday:

Version A: I have had a bad day - Singing "Had a bad day again...."

First it’s a Monday morning. She usually truddles in late and annoyed for some reason on Monday mornings – more than other mornings.

So she walks in. Expects me to get turned on at the click of a button. Well, not today missy. Go have your fun elsewhere.

I am ill. No amount of switching, tweaking, tugging, stroking is going to arouse me. Cant you go one day without any action, sheesh! She’s busy poking, stroking, caressing, massaging, tapping – the woman could go on forever. But I am out cold. Not going to respond. And that’s that. No uh! I tell her I am sick.

She is not amused.

This is not going very well. I try to tell her, “Ichiena, I am ill. I cant get up today. Not today. Just let me be”. For some reason, she gets very worked up. Seems to think I am teasing her!! Talk about misreading! She goes back into poke mode. I think she will get violent….help!!

Then. Suddenly. She stops. She picks the phone and calls Dr Kownothing. Not Dr Knownothing! Cant I just sleep it off. Let me tell you, Dr Knownothing is the kind of Dr who in the past I have walked in with a virus and has instead checked for tonsillitis and ended up doing a hysterectomy. You get the picture.

So he walks in a few hours later and pokes all over the place (this is so embarrassing!) and I hear him informing Ichiena, “There’s something wrong with your computer”. Give Us Strenth Yee Gawds. Isn’t that what I was telling her all along – if someone will pay attention, I am ill!! And if you care to ask, I will let you know exactly what’s wrong with me. But Ichiena is mad – must be PMS and so I am unceremoneously bundled out.

Dr. Knownothing is probably going to carry out a lobotomy this time. Life will never be the same.

I have had a bad day.




Version 2: I have had a bad day - Singing "Just another manic Monday!...."

I wake up disbelieving I have to go to the office.
Go to shower and guess what? H2O has desserted the building. Again.

This has been going on for a while now - we get water then we don’ for weeks (considering what to do with the landlord - start deducting cost of buying water from rent and see whether that will light a fire under him. Thiing is the water tends to disappear and reappear around end month....mhmmmm)

Anyway, get to the office. Drowsy and tired and in no mood to work - It is Monday after all and I have earned the right not to be cheerful. I get to my desk. Organise work to do - the rather high pile. Switch my computer on.

Then....

N....%$^#$%^%^&
O....%^$^%^$%%$
T....%$^#$%^%^&
H....%^$^%^$%%$
I....%$^#$%^%^&
N....%^$^%^$%%$
G....%$^#$%^%^&

The machine looks back at me - probably sniggering, the little twit! - and nothing. A blank screen with several lines of incomprehensive script (i interpreted it into the comp's version of "Nya nya nya boo boo"). I take a deep breath and cold boot.

I then used several minutes immediately thereafter to test all the keys on the keyboard (you know there's a key with three signs on it? How do you get to use the third one?). Aaaah, getting somewhere finally....then Nya nya nya boo boo! So, i kicked, bit, tweaked, twisted, smashed, crashed (at least I did in my mind). But nothing. Just, nya nya nya boo boo.

Giving up (I HATE giving up)...I call support and guess what - they came in three hours later - at 11am. That's half the morning gone which was spent pretending to look busy (ok I always pretend to look busy but at least I usually have a choice!).

The IT dude comes in. Checks out the comp. Asks me if I switched on correctly (duh) then after five minutes makes the great announcement that my comp is not ok (Doubly DUH!UH!). The he says he has to carry it off to the workshop (this is what I figure, (a) these guys charge more for offsite than onsite jobs hence their love for this option (b) they have no idea what is wrong with the comp and would rather do the testing 1-2-3 away from prying eyes (c) they have no idea what is wrong and are taking it to the “real unidentified experts” to check them out).

Either way, it was 11.30am and I have no comp. Tomorrow’s a holiday so work needs to be done yesterday. Clients are calling and saying, “Why haven’t you responded to my mail” – well missy, I would if I could read it in the first place!

So I spent the day normading – basically moving from one station to another whenever the owner goes out to pee or something and the whole thing sucks. (At one point I was tempted to put laxative in someone’s tea so I could have a machine for the rest of the afternoon).

Now I have carried work home so that I can hopefully get something done before Wednesday. The IT dude says it’s sorted and I should have my comp back by Wednesday morning.

I had a bad day today.

Tuesday:
It is a holiday….. It is a holiday…… It is a holiday.……

Perhaps if I chant that continuously I will not have to go to job 2. At least that’s what I thought.

It. Did. Not. Work.

One good thing though for the day. I finally managed to go shopping for veggies so the Usurpers (my 5 (yep, FIVE – what were they thinking….) siblings are the Usurpers because they all eventually took my role of fave babe) will not starve to death.

(Note to self: Need to “alert” the Fockers so that I earn a browny point, hehehe….)

(NB: I sincerely think those dudes with huge gunias on their backs derive some perverse pleasure pushing you with the gunias in the market place).

Wednesday:
Back to work. No computer. ‘Nough said.

Good thing though – evening tea with 5In and tea with him is always an uplifter. Having male friends (hell, even relas!) is a hustle at times but some are unbelievable. Thank you God for putting people like 5In in my life.

And I cooked! Ati gathering up tattered illusions of domestication. And no, I can proudly say Usurper2 did not die from food poisoning. Usurper2 was pleasantly surprised actually – ok! Ok! It was more of shock. Hehe.

Thursday:
Back to work 1 and still no computer???

Let’s say I brought out the big guns – yaani, cleared all arsenal. To cut a long story full of expletives (sp?) my computer, poor baby, was back by 2.30pm. They removed the scanner card. Did not replace it. Said that it was interfering with the startup (so, why not replace it with another one because I have a scanner on my desk and do the bulk of scanning in the office!!)

And I had emails dating back to last week to start working on! Yaani, I earned my salary twice over on Thursday alone. Still managed to get to another evening meeting, which went well. I am still smiling. And got home and cooked. Twice in a row….this one’s for the Guinness Book I tell you.

Friday:
It’s Friday. It’s Friday.

Aint nothing bringing me down. (With the exception of the workload, phew!)

So to top it all, and cap the mad week, I went to shake my…..(was about to say butt, but (All Pun Intended) I discovered I have no butt. I have a derrière – you know like the majority jungu ones. Small. Now, there are some mamas with asses and butts out there. Real sienda as one Martian puts it. Yaani those mamas just stand and twitch kidogo and there’s palpable movement in the entire nether-region. Me I have to sway, nay, swing vigorously from side to side, front to back, round, up and down, and break a sweat while at it. Then, only THEN do you go, “Oh, Ichiena is trying to pull that lingala move”).

But Ramogi night was da bomb (there goes my age rearing it’s wrinkled neck – what’s the modern expression? Phat?) Ate tilapia, sweet potato and uji. Remember my prowess (or lack thereof) in the kitchen? I enjoyed the meal – the only survivor being the fish head. I also realized I enjoy Tony Nyadundo, now when Focker1 puts on his CD I’ll actually hum along. The dude is amazing though, almost an entire CD with the SAME beat. Only the words change and you thought akina Flexx, Jua Kali and crew are vulgar. You should listen to the modern “zilizopendwas”.

Clearly, Friday made up for a thankless week.

PS: I did not cook. Usurper2 knows the directions to the kitchen.

Saturday:
Oh, Ichiena and plans. Ati I made plans for the day. When will I ever learn that these never work? Got up nice and early and was in Westlands Sarit by 845am (the roads were so clear I found myself wondering if I had slept through to Sunday!) paid my elec bills and humming, happy and chirpy that I did get up despite a late night out.

Then drama starts. I got to my ATM and it spat out my card, ati out of order (Is there a system banks can use to alert clients of such before you go all the way out of town to get money only to find a spitting machine!). So, plans had to change. Oh well, still early. Just got to town instead and get cash and finish everything in town instead. Mind you I am lugging a huge poster for this event I meant to be at by latest 930am.

So, it’s now 9am and I am in town (traffic was really light – so now I was checking if there had been a coup or something overnight). ATM tells me that I have no money. WAIT!! No money! I distinctly recall depositing a cheque and I am sure I was sober and awake when I did it. So I walk into the bank and let’s just say that it turns out that the bank is aware of the faulty ATM (apparently it’s been dead since Thursday and they still haven’t even put up a notice) and second, all the problems are because someone forgot. FORGOT. Someone forgot to authorize the transfer into my account. You know when you are so annoyed mpaka you are deflated. I was that then some. I smiled (I cannot believe it) and said, “It’s ok. You are only human”. In retrospect, I think I had exhausted my expletives with the comp dudes on Thursday so there was none to spare for the banker. I got my cash and did half of what I was supposed to run. By the time I got to my event, it was 1130ish. Half a morning wasted because of someone else’s incompetence.

Event was lovely. Well attended and the kids. Kids are so artistic. Could you draw KICC in class 3? My memory of Art was sticking my hand in a plate of paint and plastering it on a paper AFTER I had plastered half my classmates…hehehe…Craft was going to the local carpenter and convincing him to make a stool, sticking my name on it and presenting it in class. Would someone tell me why I was forced to make a stool in primary school? Or shona a lapbag?

Sunday:
All syked up. I need to go marathoning. After I got in yesterday, I slept. Promptly at 5pm. I was knackered. I did get up for a snack at 130am I think. Even caught a movie and went back to sleep. Up again bright and early at 6am. Must not be late. Slight headache, wooziness but that’s probably just from too much sleep. Showered. Dressed. Took breakfast.

And threw up.

I listen to my body. So, (Headache + Wooziness + Throwing up) – (Alcohol + Drugs ) + Enough Sleep + Enough Food = I am ill.

So. Here I am. In my house. I cannot sleep. Dressed for the marathon – I still have the t-shirt on. Not marathoning. But blogging.

We are depressed/estatic.

Have a happy week y’all.

At which point I must say:
1. Oh yee harassers, you know yourself, I hope you are satisfied, nay, gorged on this loooooooong one.
2. If you read to this point and you are not one of the harassers, leave a postal address on which I can send you a book I recently read, “Time Management”…LOL!