A Note To The Other Woman

its-complicated-complicated-love-cheating-facebook-demotivational-posters-1328558396He never leaves his Number One woman for the other woman. That, my friends, is the blunt truth. Forget Scandal and Mistresses. That shit only happens in movies.Normal men(and by normal I mean those who are not the President of the United States of America who can do whatever the heck he wants with whoever the heck he wants wherever the heck he wants and not have to give any heck of an explanation to anyone) would never abandon the woman who has stood by his side through thick and thin, sunshine and snow. Any sane man would never let go of a stable relationship/marriage that has stood the test of time for a new fling with lots of uncertainties that he is not really sure about. Consider it a practical application of the bird in hand is worth two in the bush theory.

The man will treat you (the other woman) right, say all the right things you’ve ever wanted to hear a man say to you. He will take you out on amazing dates and road trips but that will be just about it. You will never get to meet his parents or brothers or sisters or hang out with his inner circle of friends as his woman. Your meetings will always be in some far-away hideout or in some teeny-tiny motel or lodge in some hidden part of town. He will meet you, literally, and then be on his way. He will not want to cuddle or whisper sweet nothings in your ear after sex because he will be in a rush to get home to his number one woman. You will be darn lonely, and sad, most of the time. You will wish for and unfortunately,will not get more. See, the problem with being the other woman is that you are not special, not in any way. You are just a runner-up, you are second place. Or third. Or fourth. If he is a serial philanderer. And second place never won the prize honey. Who buys the cow if they can get the milk for free anyway?

Just know that he is never leaving her for you. He tells you he will, but only because he wants your mouth shut and your legs wide open. People will say just about anything as long as it gets them what( or who) they want. And on the day he gets caught you will probably receive a life threatening call from his woman giving you the ‘you-are-the-world’s-greatest-whore-and-you-deserve-nothing-short-of-hell-fire’ speech, and the man who swore he would never leave you even if the sky is falling down, will treat you like trash, wrap you in some filthy trash bag of excuses and dump you in the nearest available garbage can of oblivion, to be thrown away and forgotten.

There are exceptions, though, if you are as lucky and as half-blessed and gifted as Olivia Pope, or if the man is insane. Like Fitzgerald Grant (Google him for creep’s sake if you don’t know the man), who have probably gone off their rockers most probably because their bird has pooped in their hand long enough. I’m talking heavy shitty smelly poop here. Some are insane because they never really loved their number ones from the start, are insanely tired of living a lie and have fallen insanely in love with the other woman.

Such cases are very rare however, I’d measure the statistic as one in ten thousand. But who am I to tell you that you cannot be the lucky one among ten thousand? I’m just an ordinary girl with old boring thoughts and opinions. Nobody important really. So let me not rain on your parade. Go give it your best shot oh ye of greater divine luck,and keep your fingers crossed. It might take forever before he finally leaves her for you but don’t they teach us in school and everywhere else that patience pays? I mean it doesn’t really matter if the payment comes in form of bucket loads of tears and heartbreaks, yes? Let me not convince you otherwise therefore. YOLO, right?

Photo credit:www.mattlavery.com



You are probably Kenyan, but then again you just might be French, Portuguese, Xhosa, Ugandan, American, Igbo…Who knows, you might even be Chinese! You might be somewhere in Antarctica, doing some geeky research on polar bears, you might be in a class wishing that the old boring man of a lecturer will finish up because you really need to find something to eat. Maybe you are as idle and as bored as I am with life right now, probably also wondering what I look like or what I am doing. God forbid you might be passed out drunk in a terrace or drainage in some God-forsaken alcohol den, talking in slurred Drunkenese and making the most obscene and ridiculous utterances any ear has ever heard. Wherever or whatever you are, here’s a few to-note things you have to keep in mind before you think of making me a special someone in your life. I have tried to hide as much of it as possible. You will have to find me personally if you would like the grossier explicit version.

Firstly, I have the weirdest of habits and sadly,I do not think I will be able to change most of them. Many have tried and terribly failed to so I am an unchangeable case. For instance, my favorite place to be in the house is…the toilet. It’s my most comfortable spot and I do all sorts of things there. I cannot get in there without my phone, reasoning being I need it to listen to music and keep up with social media happenings while I perform the natural normal activities that get me there in the first place. And when I am overdosed on crazy I take selfies while there, of my face of course, not of any other place.(Get behind me ye of twisted mind, Mama North West and I have nothing in common. I too would love to break the internet, but only when it is darn slow and I cant watch the next episode of The Blacklist because it is taking twenty years to download. Not with my ass all over the place). Sometimes I write in my article book or read my favorite pull-outs in there, and sometimes I even go in with a snack or cup of coffee or juice in case I get hungry. I know what you are thinking right now. That no one in their right mind would enjoy doing this, but that’s just it love. I lost my mind many seasons of The Vampire Diaries ago- I hold Damon Salvatore responsible. Those eyes…Jeez those EYES– and I am hoping you, your love to be precise, will help me get it back. Look on the bright side though. Our excretory room will always be spotlessly clean because I like it that way when I have to do my toilet rituals in there.

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Courtesy: pinterest.com

Also know that I am naturally nocturnal. I am most active in the evening going into the night, and during the day I am a lazy, slow, unproductive weird looking mess and I would rather just sit around doing nothing, a movie or sleep maybe. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that I will not do the house chores or cook, clean or anything like that. I will, just at rates that are below my optimum level. Therefore I really hope that morning glory does not mean the world to you because that is the time when the lazy bug comes stinging and I would rather just sleep after being awake for the better part of the night, than engage in prolonged conjugal activity that entails a lot of stretching and moving about. If however you prefer that to your cereal in the morning then we will have it your way, but be rest assured that you will have to do without breakfast because I will be passed out tired and dead-asleep, hence will be regrettably unable to get up and whip up something for you to eat before you go to work.
If a pig and I were put up in an eating competition, I would win hands down, dear future boyfriend/hubby. My personal opinion; food is the best gift God gave us as human kind and I don’t hold back when it comes to that. I put my Momma’s eating rules into practice when I have to, like when we have visitors, when out in public or when in the company of someone I like-but all the other times I go ham on food, as if a zombie apocalypse is coming and I have to eat up so as to have enough reserves to get me through when it happens. So on the basis of full disclosure, I will tell you here and now, that the reserved lady-like eating that I will do on our first days together, will be an act I will put up just to get you to like me more, possibly even love me. Otherwise the usual me that you will have married, goes full-blown Rambo on edibles and I eat everything (apart from eggs) all the time, every time. I am a binge eater and I am not afraid to tell you because that is who I am. There is gonna be a lot of food and grocery shopping to be done my man.

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Also, I poke my nose when I have to(all ladies do, when no one is watching and they are just too ashamed to admit it)and I bite my nails and my lower lip when I am tensed or nervous. I also garnish most of my meals with raw onions so I hope you do not mind onion breathe, otherwise there won’t be much lip action going on. I enjoy peeling off dead skin on the palms and soles of feet and I cannot take cold tea. It irritates the hell out of my throat and it tastes like puke to me.
I most seriously, do not take being lied to very kindly my dear, unless it involves a very breath-taking surprise. I would totally understand if you told me you were going on a three-day business trip, only for me to come back from work and find you standing by the door wine and glasses in hand and Yirumi playing my favorite song on the piano. Now that kind of lying is VERY VERY acceptable. I have zero-tolerance for dishonesty and unfaithfulness. That kind of stimuli results into a very bad response from me, because I have a very cruel twisted side of me I make Klaus Mikaelson of The Originals look like a freaking angel. So think twice, before you ever decide to pull a Kanyari on me.
Please keenly note, that the only connection I have with Beyonce is our big egos, otherwise while she wakes up looking flawless, I wake up looking like I got run over by a military Bazooka and fell into an enormous hole of ugly and no amount of filter can make me look better. I am also terribly sincerely sorry if you will expect me to pull off her Partition and Drunk in Love moves for you in bed, or if you are the wild type, on a private strip pole, because the closest I can get to that can be equated to Larry Madowo trying to break a move, and we all know that even SpongeBob Squarepants can move his body better. No love, I do not, cannot, Drop-it-like-its-hot. So Honey, please Forget-it-coz-its-not happening.
While Mrs. Carter can dance away, shaking what her Mama gave her even in seven-inch heels, the highest I can go is two. I can go higher for you, if you insist, but you have to be ready to have one very sore arm because I will have to get a tight grope of it for stability as I walk. You will also have to bear with my divided attention between you and my legs because one second of switching off from being wary of how I walk will result into me toppling over, legs high and spread in the air, your ‘fundamentals’ out in the open for anyone in close range to see. We certainly do not want that now, do we? Therefore I hope we can make do with old skools and flats during our outings so that I can preserve my dignity, yours too.
If you are still reading it means you are curious. Interested maybe. And that’s a good thing. Most people probably stopped and left the blog at the toilet part. So I am glad you are still here. Enough of weird habits now. Let’s talk positivity now, shall we? You do not have to worry about me being uptight about video games and football because I am the number one fan of these two. Please do not cry when I beat you and stay unbeaten at the video games. I am known to crash egos and silence self-proclaimed champions in those. I also hope that my favourite local or European football team beating yours will not result into an action less night(s) of dry spell for me because then we will have a problem and I will not let you be.
It is my prayer that you will understand my melophilic nature, and I hope you have it in you too. See, I eat, breathe, drink, sleep and dream MUSIC. It is my life and it will always be a part of me. I like it loud so that I can drown myself in it most of the time, but it’s okay if you prefer it a little less louder. If I find a song i like, I play it on repeat mode ten thousand times till it becomes part of me and I can sing along perfectly from start to finish.Plus, it has always been a dream of mine to buy one giant piano and have it in my house, our house, and get the kids to be pro at it. Won’t it be fun to have a musical child prodigy in the family?
Above all I hope against hope that you are a good God-fearing man, both present and future. That you are and will be a responsible man, a loving and caring husband and father when we get there and a man who will make me a better person and help me grow in all aspects of life. That we will be able to junk ourselves out when we want to, or cuddle on the couch being judgy about movie characters or reality show stars and that you will hold me when a movie scene scares the life out of me. That we will hold conversations late into the night and you will hold me as I fall asleep with my head on your chest. That you will stand up for me, and protect me both physically and emotionally against any negative things. That we will go out on long walks together, visit places and make lasting memories together. That when you say you will love me forever you will mean just that, and not hit the road when problems come knocking.

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Lastly I hope that I haven’t already scared you away by my flaws; I just need you to understand that I am a simple down-to-earth lady who also farts like everybody else and is not ashamed to say it. I am not an easy person to live with, but I will be ready to compromise on certain things so that you can smile. I also need you to know that everything else aside, I will love the life out of you, I will ensure that you are in top shape and health and looking sharp always. Torn and mismatched socks for instance, will be a thing of the past. I will make you the best of meals; Chef Ramsay has got nothing on me! Also, I will totally respect your bromance(s) if you have any, but I will be clingy and naggy when necessary. Know that I will support every move and step you make that will guarantee our betterment, I will stand by you whether it rains blood or milk, I will help you grow as an individual, I will respect you as head of the house, submit to you fully as my husband and be the best mother to our kids. What I am saying in simple terms is that I will do my best to make you happy always.
Imma be your ride-or-die chic, mister, and on that day that I say “till death do us part”, I will mean every word of it so let it stick in your head that divorce will be out of the question and not even up for discussion. Therefore do me a favour boo and be good, because you will be stuck with me forever. Not to worry though. I will most definitely make it worth your while!

See You Someday 

Class Of Classes

All Under One Roof
The lecturer is running late, again. It is freaking hot, God this February heat. I had quite the heavy lunch just before I dragged my overfed self to class. Couple that up with an atmosphere of sweaty armpits, cheap colognes and body lotions, and you have the perfect cocktail for an afternoon nap. I am seated next to a Mr. Somebody-or-other, who is trying his utter best to chat me up as if his unit’s grade depends on it. Ordinarily, I’d involve myself in the chit-chat, as I would rather be admired for my scintillating conversation prowess and sparkling personality, than my canine ability to fall asleep in such a public place. However, the guy has onion breathe. Vibe killer right there. So as he goes yadda yadda yadda about something obviously extremely boring, I give an absent minded smile as I look around the class.
There is quite the interesting collage of personalities in this class. So whilst my wet-behind-the-ear neighbor is falling over himself giving his ‘wise’ opinion on why Aromat is the best thing to ever happen to the world of cookery, I do a little person evaluation. Judgment is too harsh a word.
1. The class diva/ Queen Bee
Always has the latest of trends in fashion. Her make-up is flawless and she moves around with an aura of femininity and perfection. Guys stare and drool when she passes by and leaves a trail of designer perfume behind, for them to revel in, probably even have some wet dreams with,in some cases.
2. The in-love couple
Our very own Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, minus the football team of kids and the private Island of course. They look so great together, they make Beyoncé and Jay Z look like amateurs in this love business. They are the type that make you watch The Notebook for the gazillionth time, and wonder why all the men you keep meeting have to be jackasses who spoil you rotten one day, only to be on a frugality drive the next. Or why they have to have onion breathe. Sigh.
3. The Wannabe
Thinks she is the yet-to-be-discovered Katy Perry. She tries to live, act and dress the part, but she tries too hard. One fashion paux after another, she never really gets it right- too much eye liner, a dress a tad too revealing, lipstick that makes her look as though she’s been on a fourteen-hour spree drinking red wine, which has congealed and solidified on her mouth. Attempting to smile, she looks like Dracula.
4. The drunk
Always high on something; booze, weed, shisha…whatever substance that is ingestible and can be abused. He slurs in his speech, never makes complete sentences and smiles like the world is his oyster.
5. The out-of-this-earth one
Believes smurfs are real, and that aliens are watching our every move, waiting for the appropriate time to make an invasion and conquer the world. He is always daydreaming, has his keys tied around his neck and is always whispering to himself.
6. Miss Goody two shoes
Such a pain in the butt this one. Does she always have to remind the lecturer about an assignment or a presentation due? They say her transcript has never felt the taste of a B. Ever. She’s all about those As man.
7. The copying machines
They never complete assignments on their own, and their mantra is ‘I’d rather cheat than repeat’.
8. Back of the class crew
Very loud. Annoying sometimes. They make witty remarks almost about everything that happens in class. Never make notes because they are always busy whispering about one thing or the next.
9. The Heaven-bound
These ones apparently have their tickets to heaven booked and confirmed. They look at you enter class in your not-so-Godly outfit, then shake their heads, like you are the devil’s associate herself. They stick to themselves, lest you contaminate them with your evil mind and ways.
I was saving the best for last. He is my favourite part of class. Darn he’s cute. And his smile, good Lord that smile. Like a buttery sunshine, melting my insides, turning me into a wobbly gooey mix of something between childishness and being a speechless clumsy complete mess of an idiot. He has this deep goofy laugh, and an urbane confidence that renders him utterly charismatic. He probably doesn’t even know I exist and if does, he probably thinks I’m a total nutcase, someone he’d rather eat goat poop than be seen hanging out with. Sigh. Still, a girl is allowed to dream, isn’t she?
Well, it seems Mr. Onion breathe has finally gotten the gist that I don’t give two horses whether he prepares whale for dinner or eats zebra hooves because he has turned around to make small talk with the other girl next to him, who obviously doesn’t mind his breathe because she’s giving him the ‘If you keep going we could get it on, tonight maybe.’
Jeez, I really should have taken that nap when I had the chance.