Archive | October, 2010

Theory X: Firefox vs Pick-up Lines

29 Oct


Samahani, mteja was request uliyotoa hapatikani kwa sasa, na hatapatikana kabisa!


So I was doing my regular interweb trolling and I happened to click on a link that sent me right to this firefox declaration! So typical of Loco, first I LOL’ed, really loudly at that! And then I got to thinking;

Ladies, have you ever been hit with one of those pick up lines that left you shaking your head wishing you could say:

Dear pickuper,

You mean to tell me that despite all the brain cells you have lost along the way in your pick up career, and even factoring in your astonishing lack of intellectual prowess plus considering that no one would expect you to be shakespearian in your pick up prose…. THAT is all you could come up with??!


Thoroughly disappointed by that pick up line

I’m sure you know the type, “Oh bebe, please be my martini and I’ll have you shaken not stirred!” (Yeah, shaken about my faith in humanity!!) or “Oh bebe, I am donating my organs to science, will you be a science?” (Err, I’m sure you should consider cremation as a more viable project sir) All these delivered by some sleazy chap who would make cows cringe with his use for leather in a suit and has sleaked copius amounts of grease a top of his head in the name of a hairstyle.

So anyway, my point was, I shall print out all those firefox error messages into little cue cards so that next time I have one of these encounters I won’t even have to do any tallking, just whip out my little firefox “request-denied” cards and hand them to the culprits! I shall especially have fun handing out the ones below:


Her Mind. Her Funk. Her Story.

22 Oct

A comment on “Mind and funk” from iCon of Diasporadical, a poignant prose that tells the story of one of the 844,000 who give in to the romance with death.

There’s once lived a lovely lady in the state of New York; Queens to be precise-ish. Brilliant wordsmith and literary mind. She was also blessed with the most sublime of features and a body that elicited nothing but sinful thoughts in the gutters of men’s minds. I had had a crush on her and would walk by her building on my way to the train home from work hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile and maybe a wave too; fuel for my dreams.

Then one day, my balls dropped, and I mustered up the courage and audacity to walk up to her floor, bang on her door and say “Look woman; this is what’s going to happen. I will buy you coffee this evening and you shall drink it and entertain my small talk and midget humor. That is all. Dress snazzy.”
I got to the door and barely tapped it when it opened itself. “Aha! I thought. This is a sign.” but before I could proceed on one of my power-trip self-gratifying solliloquies, I noticed the lady in question passed out by the bathroom floor, foaming at the mouth.

A 911 call, ambulance ride and hospital night later, I found out that she’d had the severest of depressions and had tried to bottle it in and act normal. But the pressure of her family telling her she was sulking for no reason, her friends being jealous of her beauty(mind and other) and her job, her neglectful boyfriends and the ever intimidated passers by who never said anything more than hi, she decided the world was better without her. I tried talking to her, even convinced her to go for professional help a few months later. I moved out of NY to ATL but still swung by to visit and check on her. It was clear that she was struggling without a support system. And the medication did little to help.

3 years and 3 suicide attempts later, she finally made it to Walker Funeral Home.

And her family sat there crying wishing they would’ve listened.

Everybody is worth worlds or more.
Don’t listen to the funk. Well, not that funk at least.

Stay up Loco.

My mind, My… Funk…

22 Oct

I woke up today and I just wanted to die. Literally, just die and leave all this behind, and I probably would have made a move towards achieving my goal.

See I’ve romanced the thought of death once or twice before, teased it, played with it. I’ve attempted suicide once before, on a day just like this, because I was feeling just like this. Like nothing really matters, like everything I do is destined to be one failure after another. Ever felt so useless and inconsequential that you are convinced primordial ooze is more relevant than you are? Well, that’s how I was feeling then, when I took pill after pill knowing I was going to sleep and not wake up. And that’s how I’m feeling now as I write this.

You see I sometimes get into.. funks. That’s the uptown word for it. The real word is depression. To be a little more clinical, I live with a condition called AADHD (Adult attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and the depression is as a result of comorbidity, that is, when the AADHD makes me feel like a dysfunctional adult, I sink into a depression. So really, if you look at it, I’m a tad manic depressive, the too highs and too low lows.

All that I can deal with. What I usually can’t deal with to be perfectly honest is the judgement from people. If I had a dime for everytime someone told me “AADHD? Thats a disease for white people” (From my brother) or “Stop making excuses” (From a close friend) Oh boy wouldn’t I be rich. And because of this, I spent a very long time thinking that I was just a really bad person. Even now, knowing the underlying psychiatric issues, I pretend that I’m okay with people not understanding, but I’m not. It kills me a little when people think I’m faking my… funk. makes me think, why should I even bother, drives me deeper into the… funk, and brings me where I am today, just wanting to die.

But that’s just me. My mind, my… funk.

According to the WHO (World Health Organization) Mental Health and Development report 2010; 151million people live with depression globally, 26 million with schizophrenia, 40 million with epilepsy, 24 million with Alzheimer’s and other dementias. Yet another 12.5million live with alcohol and drug abuse disorders and approximately 844,000 people die of suicide each year.

What about their minds? Their… funks?

Remembering to climb

18 Oct

Sometimes we need to be reminded the important things in life. For me, lots of times, I need to be reminded not to falter, not to give up really, when I’m tired. When all I want to do is abandon what I’ve started and crawl into a corner and wait for doomsday.  And the great Hughes, Langston Hughes, reminds me, through this brilliant piece, which goes unrivaled as my favorite poem of all time.


Well son, I’ll tell you, Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair,

It’s had tack in it, and splinters, and boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor – Bare

But all the time, I’se been climbin’ on

And reachin’ landings, and turning corners

And sometimes goin’ in the dark, where there ain’t been no light

So, boy, don’t you turn back, don’t you set down on the steps

Cause you finds it’s kinder hard, don’t you fall now –

For I’se still goin,’ honey, I’se still climbin’

And life for me, ain’t been no crystal stair.

So go forth and climb, even though, as the perona in this piece puts it, Life ain’t no crystal stair.

Of grim grooming….

16 Oct

Now now now nairobians. It is not acceptable, at 11.00am in the morning, to reek of 15 day toil and trouble with a hint of freshly exhumed corpse. In any which way. I don’t care how you cut it, foul stench at that morning hour is just plain rude.

Situation: Loco is minding her own business as a good little commuter making her way to work, you know, “Kutafutia watoto school fees” (Nevermind that I have no children). In comes a tout who insists on scrunching his way into my slice of matatu and then raising his arms as though it finally dawned on him to follow rapper’s instructions and “Put your hands up”. What followed…. (Pause as I shudder at the memory of this near death experience) a putrid mixture of acid, bile and various other body fluids I care not to imagine all coalated into this horiffic sweat vapour hits my nostrils like a police baton born and bred in Kiganjo. AT 11.00AM. IN THE MORNING!

As anyone who has had a near death experience will probably tell you, I saw my life flashing before my eyes. Okay, maybe it was the acridity induced tearing reflex that caused that visual hiccup to happen, but if you were seated where I was seated at that particular moment then you would see how I thought I was about to die a painful Chernobyl-like death!

Anyway, riddle me this bloggers and bloggettes, given this very accurate (if not grossly understated) account of events, was it wrong for me to immediately reach into my bag, pull out a can of deodorant and proceed to first-aid this man’s clearly direly affected underarm area, as I gave him directions to the nearest water body and prescribed a bath?

I came, I read, I LOL’ed…

4 Oct

Raise your hands anyone who has been neglecting their blog! *Loco raises her hand slowly while looking around* Okay so I’ve been a truant blogger of late. What can I say, things are thick, ye olde Loco’s thinker just can’t write as well and as often as it used to! (Pause as I laugh at the double entendre insinuated in that statement. If only I were an old getriatric man!)

Anyway, of late I’ve been living a very interesting life, the kind that takes about 59 therapy sessions to understand! I however have found, that witty literature has been one of the most theraputic escapes for me in the midst of all this “Interestingness” (Forgive my murder of the english language). Well that and coffee abuse, happy pills, nicotine, debauchery and various morally corrupt vices, but let’s not dwell on those!!! Hehe!

So I present to you some of the brilliant quotable gems I’ve stumbled across in the course of my literature trawling. Enjoy.

I never let schooling interfere with my education.

Mark Twain

You can do a lot with flowers. Girls love them. And what is more, there is a recognised language of flowers. Shoot in a rose or a calceolaria, or an herbaceous border, or something, I gather, and you have made a formal proposal of marriage without the trouble of rehearsing a long speech and practising appropriate gestures infront of your bedroom looking glass.

P. G. Wodehouse (Something To Worry About)

It is one thing to be cosmetically defiant of authority, by wearing unconventional clothing _ what social scientists call “Cheap signalling” and another to prove willingness to translate belief into action.

Nicholas Nassim Taleb (Black Swan)

This is not a search for self but he creation of it. I shall play and I shall act and I shall have much fun. I shall be the conductor, The baton is in my hands and the balls are in my caught!

Freya North (Sally)

That’s all for now bloggers and bloggettes!!