The curse of Peter Pan

One of the known genders generally thinks that it is cool to look young. Apparently, living under the illusion that you still look like a cherub is supposed to add something to your existence. They will fight the effects of time on their bodies with whatever product that comes on the market.

 

There are guys who do this. There is a name for them; Metro Sexuals. Their products compete for space with their female partners’ in the bathroom. And it is generally accepted.

 

The fact that there are many people who behave in this way should mean that the good things to be gained out of it are more than the negative ones. This is why it is still normal to see a woman with black elbows and a yellow face. Or a man, for that matter.

 

But for those who were given this ‘gift,’ there are bigger issues to deal with. When you grow up unchanging, the joke starts to sound boring a little after 14. You realise the pain and the boredom of the whole thing when every time there is a drama presentation at your boy’s only school; you are the natural choice to do the female parts. Boys look for someone who looks like a female and when they fail in this quest, they look for one who looks young, as in, one with no facial hair and whose voice ‘refused’ to break.

 

Later on, when you have left campus, and gone out into the big bad world, the stupid guy who wants the world to believe he is gainfully employed pulling a door and screaming into the morning cold when all sane people are trying to squeeze the last bits of sleep takes a look back and tells his equally incapacitated friend, “That boy is paying 800 shillings!”

 

P.S: There are 666 comments on my wordpress blog. Any superstitious people out there?

Gems

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Desert storm

In a desert far away, a huge group of humans had camped to take a break.  They’d been going around in circles and no one really knew what in the world they were doing or where they were going. It was going on 40 years and the circles continued. Understandably, many of them had become certified nuts. 

(Use present tense now. Its cool to do that). 

Like this gray man, sitting in this tent. He is smocking on something that suspiciously looks like and smells like hashish. The fumes would choke any normal person but then again, this dude is not exactly normal. He is listening to the esoteric lyrics of Bone Thugs N Harmony, a decade after those loons were relegated to yesterday by all cool people. The radio is hidden under what looks like a brown basket and the old man’s dirty dust-covered feet lie carelessly on top of the basket. 

This picture is surely supposed to be shattered. And surely it is. A scruffy young man with wild eyes and wild locks falling over themselves in his eyes bursts into the serene environs of the tent. His silhouette stands defiantly against the bright light cast by the angry sun outside. The sun is pushing the youth and peeking into the tent as though to collect last month’s rent. 

(Revert to past tense now). 

“They are saying, and I quote,” the youth panted, “Did you bring us out of Egypt, just to let us die in the desert? There’s no water out here, and we can’t stand this awful food!” 

The old man, who looked a little like Mr Miyagi but with a little more attitude was first startled, “I am very startled!” then he got really angry, “I am now veeeery angry,” he bellowed. 

“Can you stand by your testimony in a court of law?” he asked the young man as he yanked the earphones out of his ears and started to pull a tunic over his fake beard. Down went the old khaki fabric over the Levis he had just donned this morning after his experience in the Jacuzzi in back. 

Young Man looked at him and felt like laughing. “Is that supposed to make me laugh?” he demanded? “Like real guffaws?” 

Then he told him what the real problem was. The people were not impressed with the way Andrew Mwenda-wannabe Kasyate came around to do The Big Story on the 9.00 oclock news and stayed around forever when he knew perfectly well that everyone else wanted to see Scarlet Ortiz. 

“Scarlet what?” the guy whose beard could pass for Miyagi’s asked. 

“Camilla, silly.” 

“But why would they want to worship Camilla when her friend is hotter?” 

The old man with a fake beard stormed out of the tent. For a moment, he almost tripped over the black TV power cord on the floor but he regained his balance. He went and stood on a high place. Everyone knew it as The High Place, actually. 

He pulled out his foghorn and blew… 

The snakes came out. Big snakes, tiny snakes, wiry snakes, short snakes, they all came out. Their leader came up to the fake bearded man and said, “’Sup boss. What will it be this time?” 

“Attack!”