The three moves that will shake…

…my personal life!

I opened the door. While laughing heartily at my silly joke she stepped in. Then suddenly she was laughing no more. Something made her stop. I looked over her shoulder…

“Oh thaaat, argh, you know today morning I woke up earlier than usual and I didn’t quite have time to fix the mess.”

Nervous laughter as I quickly pick after my mess. Mama had warned me...

(Flashback)

“(THWACK! THWACK!) Next time (THWACK!) when I tell you (THWACK!) to clean and make (THWACK!) your bed you will do (THWACK!) so. (THWACK!) You hear?

Well I heard, but didn’t listen. Classic case of in one ear right out the other. That’s another painful flashback. Not today.

I feel my sorry a*** as I remember the day and I float back to the present day.

She masterfully steps around my mess. I knew why I liked this one. Check those legs. NGGGG! She has nice legs, and unfortunately an even better nose. And so do I.

“What’s that smell?”

SNIFF! SNIFF! Oh s**t. It's the ugali I cooked last week and forgot to wash the sufuria.

“Oh thaaat. Hehe. Bana that is…the neighbours. I’ve always warned them about that sewage.”

She’s about to swallow my vibe when she walks into the kitchen to meet not-sparkling-clean kitchen. Ugali sufuria of last week. Sukumas of that same date. Cups with expired tea (the expiry date on the Ketepa pack said June 2008, the hoaxes). I can’t begin describing the mould we found on the plates…let’s just say, Hulk would have been incredibly jealous of the colour. Glow in the dark!

No guessing that my points tally had quickly dipped. I was in relegation zone. Even Juventus suffered an easier penalty.

Quickly I fetched water form my mtungi and quickly flooded the mould silly. Minus marks coz the crib has no running water. Bonus minus points coz the mtungi had something growing in it.

“Well everything is herbal. Colgate Herbal, Fair n Lovely is herbal so now si this is Herbal Water.” I joked.

The only laughter that could be heard bouncing off the plain walls was mine. She gave me such a serious stone face for a moment there she blended well with the wall.

I was now very well in Div 2.

Kitchen was sorted. Wasn’t actually but…for now. Peace reigned.

We finally found my seat, the Matrix seat, after I had finally gotten rid of the smelly socks and filthy yet wearable-another-day jeans. I call it the 'matrix seat' coz it reminds me of that scene when Morpheus was chatting with Neo (telly ni ya wanga kidogo). Minus marks coz she never liked Matrix, so she didn’t quite understand my love for a seat that had been rained on and has been a maternity ward for kittens. (Bantuts, I have your cat’s birth certificate).

She had cooled down and after thirstily scoffing down the juice (don’t ask where the water came from, she didn't, so why should you) I turned on the telly and sat on the cold floor to relax. I have only one seat remember. Relax though I couldn’t. Those bloody cats (Bantuts!!) that have made my roof a by-pass, were using my aerial to scratch their backs and sharpen their nails again. So for 30 minutes or so I was on the roof setting the aerial. I ended up connecting mine to the neighbours.

My lyrics must have been tight. Not once did she dare mention leaving. Well, the fact that it was getting late and she lived on the other side of town helped. (Guys, get a mama who stays millions of miles away and their mathrees end early) Bonus points for me…in my head of course. Bado mchezo was Div 2 lakini I was leading that table.

Speaking of table, supper was kuku sama na njiva (as the ad says). I got pity points coz I was hip and kept with the times. Most of her pals ate at Kenchic. (Oh, guys, if your getting a chick who stays far, don’t go tooooooooo far.)

Supper was done and a fake yawn later I declared it was (YAWN!) time for bed.

But first she wanted to freshen up.

“That’s okay with me. The bathroom is just there. Follow the sm…(sniff. Sniff)

There was no smell today. Phew! The day before there was water so I had flushed away my ‘baked beans’ and chapad ka-freshner I bought on one of my many successful trips to Nakumatt (unlike others)

“It’s just behind that door.”

I have those fitness loos where you must squat if you want to ‘squat’ (Kukata weight yaani).

“It’s okay. I’ll hold.”

She wasn’t fit and ‘lost appetite’ to use the bathroom. Needless to say, I also lost so many points that I found myself in Div 3.

Luckily, however, my bed helped my points tally. The low-rider pimped ‘dream ride’ with four inch ‘wheels’ was well received…plus it’s a strong ‘ride’. Coz after the midnight ride, oh yeah, I was back in the premier league.

But anyway, to cut the long story short, I was given a similar ultimatum that Abramovich gave ‘Maureen the whore”, improve or else. And since I want to keep this one…

(Flash forth) What do you call the opposite of a flash back?

Mr and Mrs Modo (bliss) with the little Modo (oh crap, not that brat) I return to reality panting. Ain’t no way I’m bringing a smaller version of me into this world. Not now anyway, I have to finish my karate classes first.

Okay, so I won’t keep this one, but the next perhaps.

Hence, my first move. In two months or less time I’m moving house. To a place with running water. And better loos. A place near a kiothe so supper can be there, therefore avoiding mould on ugali. A place ‘she’ (whoever she be) will continue laughing at my jokes even after walking in.

…my career!

“Excuse me sir, I have some sad news.”

“Why Modo? What’s wrong with you”

“I’m resigning”

“Oh come on. Bull****! Sit down man”

He goes back to his laptop to recover. He’s the boss he can’t lose his cool like that. Not in front of all people, me.

He types nothing for ten seconds, then he looks at me.

“Yes Modo, tell me, are you unhappy?”

Oh yes I am terribly unhappy. You have redefined the meaning of peanuts with what you pay me. I don’t like my creative director. He hogs all the work. Do you want to hear more?

Well, of course I didn’t tell him that. Hell, no. I gave him a speech about how I’ve been here for too long and I needed to move around and gain experience.

“Is it the money?”

YES!

No, sir, it’s not about the money. It’s the experience.

“Come on. It’s about the money,” he insists. “Then why don’t you go for the same amount we are paying you here?”

They have more peanuts than you.

I can’t, I tell him.

“Or why didn’t you go for 5k more?”

Come on.

“So you see, it’s about the money.”

At this point I had given up and just resigned myself to looking at him babble along. In my mind I was busy thinking of other important stuff.

“Come on Modo, think about your career…(should I now get a 29 inch TV)…don’t just go some…(now I can impress that chick next door)…those other places are useless, man, we…(oh no, I can’t impress her, I’m moving out soon)…this is the best place you want to…(now should I SMS her…hold on mr. boss man is talking, let me listen to him)…we are a secure company. We could send you abroad, if you’re tired.”

This goes on for like 30 minutes, but I’ve already made up my mind. He dismisses me, with a “this is not over yet” and I agree and say we’ll see.

After many days of trying to convince me to stay, it finally sinks into his little head that this dude when he makes up his mind, it’s set in fast-drying long-lasting cement.

So yeah, at the end of the month, Modo will be posting from a new place. Where the grass is greener, the honey is sweeter and the milk is richer than Tuzo or Brookside.

...the blogosphere!

Yes. I’m moving my couch to a new digs. I too am packing my couch for WordPress. I’ve been experimenting there for the past few weeks and soon it will be my new home. Come over for a taste of the couch at http://modoathii.wordpress.com/. Tengeneza that link.

So, new digs, new job, new blog…but it's the same ol’ me. Modoathii, son of baba modoathii and mama modoathii. Sister to my brother's sis. And brother to...yes...him.

BYE BLOGSPOT! IT'S BEEN REAL!

Like the famous dirge...Till we meet again!