An exercise in digression

anyone find that new gillete shaver ad disturbing? no? no one? you know, that shaver with twin blades, contoured edge and... herbs? i find it a mite strange. my chapped, newly hairless chin needs herbs on a razor. who'd have guessed? not me, definitely. i'm still not past the whole 'hair food thing'. proteins, amino acids and essential vitamins for healthy hair with bounce. does that mean if shit came to fuck i could eat shampoo? probably not. what if you had a really poor diet but had really expensive hair food. would some of that hair food seep into your weak, emaciated body and nutrify you?

so its started raining again. kenyans are an effervescent people. we react violently to water. two, three drops and people are bouncing off walls like little electrons infused with a substantial dose of extra energy. one thing about the rains, though.. they always bring to clean, shiny focus how played we get by road contractors. what with cars getting swept away and all.

and we always act so surprised. everyone's like, 'oh my, what a deluge. look at all these seasonal rivers we usually operate as roads'. didn't someone tell them? the road contractors? didn't someone tell them? those magical kerb repairing fairies in our grandparents' tall tales don't exist? just like father christmas? or the one eyed, one legged witch who hops around like a pogo stick and is two hundred some odd yers old on some island on lake Victoria?

G.V., remember G.V.? that blue liquid that your old lady applied with flair and abandon on whatever skin lesion, abrasion or attrition accompanied your sorry arse home after a hard day's playing? G.V. is also known as tincture of iodine. it is a mixture of 2,7 or 10% iodine and ethanol. among its varied uses, like sterilizing wounds and preventing goitre, iodine is also capable of sterilizing water of suspect origin.

imagine that.

dettol's got shit on G.V. you'd probably die if you drank dettol treated water. or mutate into some twelve legged, cockroach headed, like a third human thing and eat your neighbour with your snappy new mandibles.

so there's this dance/trance/house party happening at club liquid this thurday. i might get to deejay. or not. i need to get a rat's arse. so that i can, you know, give it. get it? give a rat's.. tch. forget it. i'll bet omnipresent will shall be there. he's got like strange party powers. he can be in like six bashes simultaneously. maybe he's one of those 'heroes' dudes.. only his power requires half the alcohol in a mid sized cosmopolitan city.

whatever.

if i said i'm lying. am i telling the truth? or am i lying?

why were so many people trying to screw in a lightbulb? whose business is it if the chicken decided to jaywalk? would you call a chicken jaywalking a jaywalking chicken or an arbitrary mammal name? now that a chicken and a jay are both birds? like molewalking, or freshianwalking now that jay is a species of bird?

i think i'd better stop, before some loose dude declares a jihad on me for wasting internet real estate.