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Laid back; chilled out.

Thursday, May 28, 2009


First the rules...

1. You must brag about the award
2. You must include the name of the blogger who bestowed the award on you and link back to the blogger
3. You must choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
4. Show their names and links and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog.
5. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on with the instructions!

... then:
Nimemaliza kusema yaliyoandikwa.
Sasa nitasema yalio yangu.

[Hope I spelled that one sentence in Swa right. Forgive me; I'm from
'Mulang'a' after all.
Props to Farmgal and Kei, BTW, for making me do this. Y'all owe me.]


I can scarcely believe I've been blogging since [late] 2005. Maybe it helped foster my secret [but not so secret anymore now] wish to write stuff that someone would actually read, for real fame and fortune. [not] Or maybe it helped release tension throwing random ramblings out there for release coz I was [am?] on the infamous Bilaz Train©. Not to mention numerous problems with traffic 5-0. Or maybe I just liked the blogging idea just because. Either way, I'm still here almost 4 years later, still going strong.

Maybe I should adopt a 'Can't stop, won't stop' mantra like Diddy.

Anyhow, here are my deep, dark 10:

I'm a right-handed leftie. Sort of. Say what you will about left-hand-right-hand myths, but it's fundamentally true that left and right-handers are plenty different. Right-handers tend to me more methodical, more logical, more conventional. Left-handers are more artsy, more passionate, more volatile. e.g.: Ne-yo is a leftie. His talent is indisputable, but isn't he such an enigma: who are his friends? Who are, more importantly, his girlfriends?
And, of course, Obama's a leftie, as is Angelina Jolie, Bruce Willis. Need I say more?
Case in point, I've never met a left-hander who wasn't special. [Or weird, for that matter] I'm right-handed, fortunately or unfortunately, but find myself neck-deep in leftie stuff. Shoot, I even do graphics for a living.

I had a speech impediment. When I was younger I couldn't get a word out. I stuttered/stammered so bad that I almost didn't wanna talk. Sometimes I'd go through entire days without speaking at all. Maybe that's why I started writing a lot, for lack of other ways to express myself. High school & music saved me: I got the crap beaten out of me in Form One and had to learn real quick how to talk myself out of sticky situations. Love for music - reciting rap & song lyrics apparently helped too, coz one day I woke up and didn't stutter at all. My fluency these days is ridiculous, considering how I couldn't get a word out. Dude, I even [try to] freestyle. Music, quite literally, saved my life.

Cars: I started driving when I was 10. My elder brothers, pretending to want to teach me how to drive that early, were merely being slick - they were setting me up to do chores for them. I could barely reach the pedals and had to use a cushion to sit on, and I looked through the steering wheel rather than over it, but pretty soon I was running milk to the dairy and fetching food for the animals all the time in my Dad's 20-year-old pick-up. Even the local traffic cops knew I could drive that young and would merely wave me on. Meanwhile, my bros were taking it easy at the house, macking on their giggly girlfriends while watching TV. B@stards.
But my love affair with cars hasn't stopped since. And now that I'm actually going to school to learn more about them, it's a wrap.

Restless: It seems like I'm always moving; I wanna do something, anything, to avoid being idle. I've pretty much been like that all my adult life. I can barely watch 2 hours of TV. I can't even surf the web more than an hour anymore, and I can't stand being in the house - unless I've company, if you catch my drift. If I could, I'd do something different every day. School helps quell this restlessness, particularly since I learn something new every day, but the days without school suck.
Of course, this doesn't do my relationships any favors. Apparently women like a dude who can stick around - imagine that. This one woman tho is like crack and I'm the addict - I keep going back.

I'm a terrible actor. I can't pretend for sh*t. I sooo wish I could, coz sometimes a good lie can make things so much easier. If I'm pissed you'll see it on my face, plain as day. Not so much the facial expression as the eyes, I'm told. That's why I can't work anyplace where I have to deal with a lot of people - people suck. Like, my first job was at a retail store working a cash register. I only lasted half a day when customers got to me. I told the supe to move me from there or I was out. He did, moved me to the worst position ever, unloading stuff from trucks, that f*cker. But I was much happier there.

Music. I can't even describe how much music means to me. Remember the aforementioned restlessness? Only music soothes that savage beast. And that's just it - I listen to anything. My music collection, though overwhelmingly Hip-Hop & RnB, is like someone jacked all iPods from cats attending some international convention, then consolidated all that music into one playlist. The only reason I used to go clubbing all the time was the music; I like it when it's so loud it resonates in your chest. In every car I've had, from my first rust-bucket of a Ford Escort to the Slo-Z, there's always been high-quality audio. Every place I've lived at too. You should see me in the zone at the crib - I sometimes sit at my desk for hours, eyes closed, head boppin', soaking the music in. Strange but true.

Writing. Needless to say, [because I'm writing this] I like to write. I don't consider myself good, per se, unlike my English teachers over the years, so I've never tried to 'go pro.' Still, I appreciate good writing as much as the next guy. I also speak like I write, and my friends can attest to that. Trust me, if you've read me, you've heard me speak.
At one point writing was my sole means of expression, so I've always done it. I used to keep a journal till I was about 16, when my sister stumbled upon it and read every word aloud to my other siblings. I can still hear their laughter to this day. B@stards. As you might imagine, I was mortified, and vowed to never again put down my deepest, darkest thoughts on paper. But I've always toyed with the idea of trying to write a book, if only to have something to do. My greatest regret is that I can't type as fast as I think. Not to say I'm a hunter-and-pecker when I type, but once I get going my fingers have a hard time keeping up.

[Hot damn! This IS work!]

Women. Where do I even begin? I love women; they're fascinating creatures. And exasperating, coz I can't figure them out. I hear music when I see a good-looking woman walk. They taste and smell so good, for the most part, have such smooth skin, are [for the most part] hairless, and have exceptional multi-tasking abilities that I could never master.
I'm starting to understand y'all, ladies. Not to say I'm even close to having a eureka moment with y'all, oh no. But I'm getting better, thanks to experience and people like, say, my pastor, who once said:
Life for me got a whole lot easier once I realized my woman was always right.'

I have an irrational fear of gaining weight. I don't understand it, especially since I haven't struggled with it. I once was chubby though and hated every moment of it. I like relatively slender women, but I love curvaceous, voluptuous women too. I guess I just don't like the extra weight on myself. I know I should keep in shape, but it's the intensity of this I-gotta-stay-in-shape feeling I've got that's got me perplexed. It's shouldn't be that serious. Or should it?

I love alcohol. Back in the day tho it got a little out of hand; all I wanted to do was get f*cked up. Truth be told, I don't even know how I survived those days. It was only when it started to interfere with work & school that I somehow managed to rein it in, and found some foothold on that slippery slope to alcoholism, and pulled myself up and out.
These days I drink but I don't like getting drunk, and I learned that a drink could actually be enjoyable. Before it was like:
Where the drinks at? Get me anything! I'm trying to get f*cked up! These days I put some thought into what I'd like to drink. I get it, sit down, take that first sip and actually admit that it tastes good. Apparently my palate has matured along with the rest of me - good deal.


There you have it. Now, who to tag?


KK said...

Finally dude.... Good looking out.
We are alike in a lot of these.. except for number 9... my irrational fear is of the weight I've already gained.

3CB said...

i'm with you on number 9 - not ton the women's dimensions but on the fear of getting fat. **grin** I have a super fear of weight gain [weighed 80KG as a teen!! *shudder*], but way too lazy to keep it down. I'm hovering around 65kg now.

Anonymous said...

You did spell that swahili stuff right..hata kama you're from 'mulang'a

This post would not have been complete without number 8. Lol thats something you have said quite a number of times.

As for your pastor-he can preach!

Good read and yes I owe you a dwink.


Anonymous said...

Us lefties have a way of leaving an imprint (pun intended - especially thinking about the animal we unleash and all that *grin*)on every*thing* we touch, not that I am objectifying human things and all... OK, I stop.

Read a lot of stuff that I can identify with over there - and I burst into song. [Getting to know you ...]

Go get 'Gone Tomorrow' and lets see who gets it done in a (how the hell does one read two books in a week and a half? Weird lefties do it in two days. Damn, get your reading on, dude)ask Jack. I'm out.

Old Englander :(

cloudvillian™ said...

"You should see me in the zone at the crib - I sometimes sit at my desk for hours, eyes closed, head boppin', soaking the music in. Strange but true."

^^^ Amen, brother. Amen!

Unknown said...

Wassup dude... longtime, cool read.
I uploaded some videos you might enjoy... Let me know when your in town and We'll hit the dragway... seems I know peoples who do the dirty...

|d®| said...

>KK: You got jokes, man! Apparently your irrational fears are unfounded, judging from your 'skid marks' pic!

>CB: 80 to 65? I think that's a remarkable feat. Shedding any weight off is real work.

>Farmgal: Funny - dwink. And yes, that #8 had to be squeezed in there, for sure! What can I say? I love y'all, as Luda would say!

>OE: Leaving an imprint on 'every*thing' you touch? Ain't that the truth. lol!

I know, I know. I used to devour books in a couple of reads. It was only when school was over last semester when it hit me that I liked to read books, so I went and copped those two. A lil rusty, I reckon.

I see we'll need to compare inventories!

>Cloudvillian™: Yup, thank God for music, for real. Play a good joint and all problems disappear, if only for the duration.

>Ura: What, you too?! Bitten by the racing bug, I see! Wait till I get that WRX; y'all too quick for me right now!

And I'll be sure to check those vids out.