This is my year end post, it goes a little something like this…
I have learnt this year that live and let live is the way to go. I believe that half the fun in making New Year’s Resolutions (here on referred to simply as NYRs) lies in the knowledge that you probably won’t live up to them… Make â€˜em anyway.
I have learnt that Boda Bodas are the way to go. Sure I’ve fallen off â€˜em a couple of times and bled a little. I’ve looked on in wonderment as the chemical component goes all fizzy on the wound as it goes about its business of killing the germs… I’ma ride â€˜em anyway.
I’ve been asked to be serious about my approach to writing. I’ve been asked to write as a professional might. Three out four of the professionals I know write shit that could put a cup of coffee to sleep. The remaining one out of four influences my style and that’s who I’ma take seriously… I might diss em a couple of times, but its just jokes, I’ma read â€˜em anyway.
I have taken to naming my property, not just CHOGM but gadgets and shit. I get frustrated when they fail to respond and haven’t the decency to refer to me by my name or title (that’s Ghost Of Sparta, to you Sir), but I’m gonna name â€˜em anyway.
I have learnt that whenever I hype a movie up way too much it fails to live up to people’s expectations. I may be overdoing it… I’m gonna overhype â€˜em anyway…. The Dark Knight is going to kick so much Hollywood Arse, the box office is gonna walk funny.
I have been educated on shit that I chose to ignore in class; I have been privy to discussions that I shouldn’t be privy to. To the wonderful ladies that for some reason or another felt it was truly necessary for me to know How Stuff Works complete with graphs and charts and stuff, Thanks, but seriously, Too Much Info! I am a simple man.
That goes double for you that figured I should know where to buy ladies’ lingerie. I am not a cold heartless bastard but I doubt I will need to walk into a lingerie shop anytime soon. The theme of these little soirÃ©es is “bring your own lingerie”. None will be provided at the entrance. In all fairness, this is brought on by the “bring your own â€˜rubber’ theme that y’all see fit to impose…
This year I experienced my first moment of Speechlessness. I didn’t think this was something I could go through, but it happened anyway… You read this stuff in books and see it in teen flicks, when it happens to you, you call up your pal and he tells you why it happened and you want to bash the phone on the side of his head, but seeing as you’re not using the earlier model of cellphones (the ones that were the same size as a laptop…or fridge) he’ll probably survive with barely a scratch… to the one that made me lose words for all of five minutes I say….
New friends made, none lost, to those that put up with me, cheers. It gets a little monotonous when I have to handle being me. It’s dreary and that I can rely on you guys to keep me going, cheers. I promise to cut down on the expectations y’all have of me so that whatever I do is ordinary, after all, you and I are just ordinary people… who am I kidding, I kid coz I love!
To all the wonderful people that populate the blogosphere…and Baz (ha!!!) Thanks for pouring words forth and making me laugh, think and hate you for being better than me. The constant reminder that there are people that are better at this game than I keeps me going, and for making me believe, thanks.
For the guys that made my costume party happen, thanks. I believe in Bottle Parties because of you. I really do… even though some saw fit to bring stuff that tasted rose-petal flavoured booze… you guys rock… which brings me to…
The peeps I have gone for Rock Night with. Ain’t no stopping us now. Here’s to hopes that we shall keep doing that thing we do and we shall keep hating on the suits that come over and slow dance to Linkin Park jams like they are Whitney Houston ballads. Damn Right! I don’t even slow dance to Snow Patrol when they are suggesting that we be there as if chasing cars, why on earth would I, in the glare of Starlight, be caught dancing slow without my Muse….
To people I’ve gotten high with and traded stories of highness with the following afternoon, we’re getting too old for this shit. Let’s cut down on the alcohol. There’s so much to live for… hehe, this paragraph is my April fool’s joke for the next year.
To anyone that schooled me on stuff academia, thanks. I am a better person for it… I may drop words without giving any thought as to whether they make sense, but hey, you can school me on that. To people that encouraged me to go back to school and get it out of the way, I say thank you and I ask, “Now what?”
To Uganda for pulling off the illusion of the century and giving it a name (CHOGM) (not MY CHOGM, the country’s)… I sit back here and applaud you and await with bated breath to see what your next trick will be… I know democracy will be a tall order, but shit, I can now see who’s propositioning me at 3am when I leave the club…
to the ladies of the night that beckon, watch some East Africa TV, style up and quit calling me Arsene Wenger and asking me to aim for your “Goal”, then we shall see…. shit, we won’t, just style up, the country needs you to pay higher taxes, we’re counting on you.
…then again, if you’re reading this blog, you ARE styled up just enough.
My NYRs for the year to come….
Achieve a certain level of happiness and comfort, no one likes a constant grumbler.
Speak Less, Listen more. No one understands what I’m saying half the time anyway. I blame it on the booze.
Keep a job for a year or something… It looks prettier on the CV.
Have an open mind. . . just.
Cut down on cussing. There’s got to be some distinction between me and the dude that sells the newspaper at the corner…
Watch. Like nobody’s dancing.
Cough. Like no one’s listening.
Smile. Like there’s nothing on your teeth
… Live. Like there’s no tomorrow!
To you and yours, Happy New Year!