BLACKBERRY TORCH: why i sold mine

by - February 09, 2012

Hey lovelies how are you this wonderful boring Thursday Ha ha!! God am i so bored in the office today *chokes myself with a tissue* to kill the boredom :(.. anyhu today I'm not talking about fashion as usual today im going all ELLEN on this blog with some story anyhow do read and fell free to comment what you think WARNING tho"
So Many people have been asking me why i sold my precious Blackberry torch *moment of silence for my loss* :),
well,its because of one bad day, in a old, radio-less bad Matatu (public bus) our home matatus N.O 48 Lavi my God are they old, which reminds me Naomba serikali ( im begging the govt to) haha j.ks!!


Anyhu seated next 2 bad gals ( and i don't mean bad in good way, but the real bad of evil-kinda/ugly Gucci mane bad ) When i entered the matatu on that fateful day, the only seat available was the one at the back ( how i hate seating at the back) right next to some giggly gals who i think had used white sadolin paint
instead of make up-didnt know paint was cheaper than make
up *BLURGH*.. but anyways thats besides the point so ......... Once i sat i courteously said Hello coz im always nice and kind awwwww!!! I know *get yourself together* and ...O.M.G you should have seen
there facial expressions, they looked me up n down and  just giggled some inaudible nonsense to themselves in the name of sheng ( Nairobi's guessed slang to brain wash people that they are words :(, ). The bu little
monsters must have thought i was hitting on them (poor them).


Like as if i hit on gals, the gals hit on me *HIGH 5 BROS* paaaah!! ...wink! So I sat there, looking out of the window and with serious Obama nation building thoughts streaming through my head.. when the nation building thoughts suddenly started to stream less and less. i was perplexed, what the deuce' dared interrupt my trend of Obama nation building thoughts. Then the thoughts disappeared all together and i started hearing a slight tingle from the depth of my brain, that developed into a slight banging,then clanging and then a cacophony of a thousand devils banging at a church bells. I felt my sphincter muscles clench and felt like slitting my throat. I looked around to see what might be the cause of all this disturbance.  Behold my dear reader , the bu two gals were screaming into their phones. One was calling one of her male friends for plot and asking him if he has a car to pick them up and take them out for the night? When she hang up, she complained that the ka boy (boyfriend)  didnt have a car that night and she went ahead to beep another
who called back after 5min.. the conversation went like this: "Bla!.... Bla!... Blaaa! Blaaaa! Blah! Blaah! Blaaah! Bla! Bla! " She didnt care who heard. i know what you think *so ghetto* right?? HIGH 5, she must have thought that the whole cosmos rotated around her fuzzy backside. "So that was the source of the
thousand devils in my head banging at church bells...hmm." I thought to myself  I thought of paying all of them to alight from the Matatu ,but that had one big flaw; it would have involved me having a conversation with them. AND THAT WASN'T going to happen. "Tienes sin cojones", a Spanish lumpen would have screamed, but i would rather have endured that insult than talk to this lot. (Oh! By-the-way, "Tienes sin
cojones" means "You have got no balls") The "Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla! Bla!" would have been bearable  hadn't it been for their phony ghetto accents. Every single syllable was turned, churned n twisted and spat out like shit from a diarrhea-ting ass.. the queen would have so cursed her ancestors for having sent missionaries to teach these barbarians her language only to defile it beyond recognition. The last straw came when one
of them told her friend that she doesn't what this Facebook thing is all about , that she doesn't know how to find her way round it.. !@#*$^???, Even my parents/grand-dad knows how to use Facebook, o.O what right do these have NOT to know.  So i did what I always do when i want to block out any nonsense, i plugged in my crisp clean white beats by Dre ear phones *yes i bought them last year BDW* and
turned up the volume of my BB. I keep my earphones crisp clean white so that anyone who sees
me approaching, be it in the dark, sand storm or under water (Oh yes,mine are water proof too) can see the earphones glimmer from afar and know that this guys has "plugged-in" and doesn't wana know your crap. As i swiped n swiped some more on my phone one of the gals tapped her friend and pointed towards my phone. But at that moment, i didnt care coz i was plugged-in n didnt wana know. Even if Col.Otafiire had
miraculously won the gold medal in figure skating at the winter Olympics, i just DIDN'T WANA
KNOW
. Then something happened, that had never happened before. Something of APOCALYPTIC proportions.

One of the gals tapped me, she actually had the nerve to actually tap me when i was plugged-in (how dare you ugly butt face). I was dazed and took some time to master the strength and
courage to "unplug" my earphones (whoooserr) and hear what she had to say. The gal pointed at my phone and asked to have a look at it *gosh i haven't changed water into wine that you want to see*. I wanted to tell her, "Bitch this thing can pay your tuition for next sem, so paws off". but as stated earlier, i wasn't in any mood to talk to them so I handed over the gadget ( no im no Bitch). Then the gals got excited n gittery like a pedophile in a kindergarten and asked silly questions like;
"Is this the iphone"
"Wama is it a double line"? I would have burst out laughing like usual hadnt my energy been sapped out by there mere proximity to me..Gag!! They took snaps of their bu clown faces using the camera and im sure it must been screaming; "Not enough resolution to take this picture".. But thats why i love Research in motion, they foresaw that clowns like these might do Maalo on it so they inserted an anti-unatractiphobic chip n (unatractiphobia is the fear of ugliness) so it managed to soldier on. But the phone was never to be
the same again, the scars of that battle were never to be healed Well,i had to eventually sell my
phone, it had gone through too much torture and every time i looked at it, i couldnt bring myself to terms with having put it through all that torture

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