Save the Miniskirt yoo!

Brace yourselves, this day is upon us. Uganda’s very first fundraising Slutwalk. All proceeds will go to the prostitutes in Mbale and of course Father Lokodo’s daughter. Or niece, or auntie, or sister, or mother, or jajja – as long as you are in some way related to the Minister fellow and a bit female. We feel your pain.

All women, girls, de-toothers, choir-girls and lesbians (read campusers, campusers, campusers, campusers and campusers), are hereby called upon to slut their skimpy selves to work this Monday. 

We shall be slutting under the theme;

“Screw the thighs, Save the Miniskirt.”

Dress Code:

1.      Miniskirts – you see the distance from your wrist to the tip of your middle finger? Yes, that is the maximum length required.

2.      Double slit (siliiti) miniskirts – slits should go all the way up.

3.      Boob-clasping tops – can I please bury my head in that cleavage?

4.      Paper thin see-throughs – Oh My Gawd your tits are right there!

5.      Clear heels – I recommend that you put on these with nothing else.

6.      Leggings – only put these on if your butt is in business for itselef. Leggings with no ass are like a wallet with no cash.

7.      Tiny, tiny, dresses. Did I mention tiny? Yes, they should end as high above the knee as humanely possible.

8.      Total bukunya-ness (nakedness) is not an over-kill, put it on.

9.      Bikinis and “hawt” pants.

10.  More mini-skirts.

The position of Lead Slut Walker is still open. Applicants should be…well, slutty but not essentially sluts. Being a professional slut would, however, be an added advantage. Five Lokodo look-alikes will carry out the screening process. We shall call them Maxi-skirt-Priests. The successful candidate should be able to simultaneously induce at least four of them to pocket.

Miria Matembe will be in charge of the Lead Slut’s personal security. Her impeccable skills at slapping the lights out of religious zealots cannot be overlooked. Invite your grandmother too. No, not for (God forbid) the Lead Slut Auditions, for the slut walk just.

Uganda is not Mecca. We bind, refuse, rebuke and refute any efforts to turn Rolexville into a mosque. There’s a busty babe killing a tiny dress in the Premio next to your taxi. Please, do have an eyeful. Those are some of life’s “little” things that keep our minds off the electric bill.

FYI, miniskirts are going for like 90% off at Owino this week. Let’s toast to Hotness!!!

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I get high a lot of recent, I think the world is getting so fuckin cold. Call that shit Global Freezing. God, I'm so fuckin drunk right now. I need someone to smoke all this pot with...do hit me up on my facebook.

Thou Shall Not Crawl

First off, I'd like to apologize to all those who were supposed to get the sex tape. I'm a perpetual procrastinator. Besides, it's hard to afford a stick of weed and the fuckin internet at the same goddamn time. I promise, once again, to send you that thing.  

Now...

Thou Shall Not Crawl

The CNN guys ranked us eighth among the top alcohol consumers. We were number two in the previous report. Someone is not doing their job and their sobriety is costing us big time.

Personally, I suspect that the ka chic who compiled the report didn’t want to do her coursework so she copy-pasted the report of 1996.

With face palms, all drunkards convened at the Beer Depot in Kamwokya. They had to forge a way forward. A motion was passed declaring that everyone should report for roll call at his or her kafunda at least an hour before the usual arrival time and leave at least three hours after the usual departure time.

Then the sadist teetotalers in government dropped the second bombshell. I hear they are going to arrest drunken pedestrians.

What?

But these guys also, this is the one thing we are good at. You can’t take this from us yo. That’s like declaring that men shouldn’t throw offensive comments at busty dames in Katanga.  

Then it happened.

Uganda Breweries Limited said not to worry. That we can drown ourselves legless and they will deliver us to our mothers – for free.

My friends in the group, “Drunkards for Hire” will testify that this move might be the next best thing to happen to Uganda ever since…well, the first best thing – alcohol.

Drunkard for Hire [noun]: You drink. You are paid. You drink the money you are paid. You are not sure if you are already too deep into the height or if you should go further for stuff to become normal. So you drink the money for the rolex and the one for the Police and the one for transport.

…I would like to pause here so that we can say a prayer for all dead Ugandan livers;

Your Liver, who art in heaven. Cirrhosis be thy name, the booze will come, your liver function be done, on a floor as on a bar stool. Give us this day our daily Bell and forgive us our hangover. As we know now, what we should not have done. Lead us not into Kaihura’s patrol but deliver us to UBL. For thine is the alcohol, the height and the black out, forever and ever;

Amen.

The best things in life come free to us. If you are staggering home at 3a.m. and you happen to bump into a Police patrol car squad, you just immediately stop and stand still. When they ask why you are pedestrianing while drunk (or is it drunk while pedestrianing?), you tell them;

“I am waiting for the drunk bus. This is the stage.”

Anyway, with all these iThings popping up day in day out, I knew we were very close to such an awesome invention. Now we don’t even need money to get drunk.

On Easter Sunday, I wrote to my liver;

Dear Liver,

Today is the day we have been preparing for. Just remember, you are the champ.

Love,

Me.