I have no title for this one

(This article was written about two months ago...I didn't post because you have no idea how hard it is to afford an internet connection and beer at the same goddamn time).

 

Every once in a while, M7 gets to sleep for a bit at night; That’s if he’s not busy abusing politicians and defending corrupt ministers or pointing threatening fingers at cameras, freaking the shit out of three year olds who are always glued on TV. What the fuck is a 3 year old doing on TV?! Christ! Mbu the house girl has other things to do. Well, the illiterate house girls are going nuts because they can’t save any milk for themselves. Why? Because M7 is in power.

…that bastard.

Now she has to stuff some unhygienic bottle down the baby’s mouth to get him to shut up and try to keep Mpekoni off the TV.

Which is impossible because like most old men, he just can’t close his trap and that is perfect because sometimes he apparently mutters things in his sleep that seem like orders to people with a not-so-average IQ. Recently he was overheard by Mutebile saying that if Bassajja-who has been linked to extremist Muslims, wasn’t paid 142bn (like a million beers? Dun no, I don’t really like math), the whole of parliament and BoU was going to be bombed by the Al Shahabad in Kenya. Mutebile, the poor sod signed the cheque whilst taking a dump. When he was apprehended by one of the fellows in Parliament who can actually read and write, he sought refuge at Mpekoni’s Rwakitura farm. Mpekoni doesn’t remember a thing but since he doesn’t want everyone else to know that he’s half mad, which he is by the way, he promises to defend him.

               

Before long, he doses off and says something about MUK. Now, we all know if it’s from Mpekoni, it’s not good for Makerere. What? Did he just say something like Makkerrrrr?? Mother----of God! Perhaps he’s just snoring, comes the logical thought from the Makerere bug planted close to the Always Almost Retired Commando.

Fuck off, he just said Makkerrrrr! Get the guns (word) out!

So while some of us who are comfortable with giving our parents the illusion of getting an education are in class looking at things we have no clue about, the word is out and there is a strike!

Yeppeeeee!

I know there is a strike because I’m on facebook you hopeless fool. At my faculty, there has never been such a thing as a strike. One time a tear gas canister was thrown in my class during a Thermodynamics lecture and the lecturer simply kicked it out and shut the door… Then went ahead to explain concepts from long dead masturbators to a teary/wide eyed class. Did I mention he was ‘a she’ or ‘she was a she’?

Well, she was!

She actually thought the topic was so interesting since some of us were so wide mouthed if flies didn’t also fear tear gas…well, we’d have taken one in the mouth (No, not blowjobs you perv). Ahem…No homo.

Anyway, the strike is on and I’m staring at this stuffed shirt of a lecturer standing in front and promising us that we are safe. Dude, we don’t care if we’re safe! Some of us have better things to do… like download porn clips on our Chinese phones?! Not that I can’t download one in class…problem is my phone, automatically plays the clips after downloading and please don’t get me started on speakers of phones which are of Chinese origin.

Instead of watching porn clips, I decide to read newspapers online (isn’t that awesome? Except I don’t think they should be called newspapers since…um there are no papers, dumbass! Perhaps newspages is more appropriate. Like f.b… I’m intelligent-on full moons) and alas-there is another strike in town! It’s the loom pens also known as taxi operators. Sigh.

Again.

But Mpekoni should not be disturbed; he’s having a sweet dream where his hair is plaited, like in Moon G’s song. Please tell Kaihura, he sleep talks. But Kaihura is on a double date in Kamwokya sipping coffee with Agnes Nandutu, Judith Nabakooba and Bobi Wine.

No, there is no weed. 

Kaihura is not bothered because it’s simply the most boring strike in his career since there are new buses in town! And they are cheap-which is one of the most favorite words in a Ugandan’s vocabulary. No one gives a fuck about these dirty ganja stinking rejects any more. Bobi is now attentive…say what??? Luckily, there’s a studio in the bathroom.

Watch.