Nothing's real but LOVE!

To Santa

Dear Santa, I know you and I have had our differences...but I'm willing to put the unpleasant past behind us and become friends once more. Of course, on condition... Oh yes, in this brutal recession everything is conditional! So, for me to allow you back into my life again, I'll require the following: 1. Amy Winehouse's Lioness Unleashed 2. Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, or any other classic novel that I haven't yet read.(You are Santa Claus, you'll know which books I have and haven't read without being informed). 3. Make this one a surprise :) Something small and meaningful... NB: No perfumes, no make-up or any sort of toiletries, and absolutely NO KITCHENWARE!!! Or wool and knitting needles!!! Love always, MsLecter!

Endings...

They are sad. They are bitter. They are empty. Endings... They are also a significant part of our existence. For everything that exists must sooner or later end. I see year 2011 is very serious about ending. It can't wait to take its final breath. Well, it's ok. Ok, I'm lying. It's not ok. Endings are never ok. But it's ok not to be ok. Especially when we are about to say goodbye. 2011 has been amazing. And not so amazing. The ups and downs, the smiles and frowns, the laughter and the tears... We mazed through them all. The race through life continues... So before this grand year we've had finally closes its eyes forever, I'd like to convey my grandest gratitude to all my followers, my readers, particularly those in United States, Germany, Russsia, Latvia, Australia, Ireland, Uk, South Africa, Malawi and India: You've been a great motivation! I'd still blog without you, but it's always amazing with you. I'd also like to thank everyone who went out of their way to purchase my debut novel; Insanity Resides on Facebook. It felt incredibly great to know that there are souls with pure constructive critism. Finally, if there's anyone I've unwittingly hurt or offended with my writing, my most abject apologies. Let's bury all grudges and hate under a fathomless pit of 2011. A great Xmas to you all... And of course, a productive 2012!!!

ManUrinated et ManShite...

There are only three things I take very seriously in this not-so-serious life. That is: 1. Hating venomously on Manchester City FC. 2. Rejoicing in Manchester United FC's misfortunes. 3. Laughing at Arsenal FC and its Wenger for no good reason at all. That is all! Right now I'm doing number 1 and 2 of the above. "Very seriously" indeed! Especially after the champions league saw both the two Manchester football clubs out in the knock out stages last night. Oh, the joy!!! And I've also taken the opportunity to laugh at Arsenal and Wenger. "Very seriously" indeed. For no particular reason. Thank you!

Beyonce the Schemer!

Is it just me, or has christmas arrived a little bit earlier than usual this year? I don't know, man... Perhaps it's the global recession that has given time its wings... Perhaps it all has something to do with my heavy fall out with Santa last year. Well, whatever it is, it's insane! So yeah, the long-white-bearded-big-guy-in-red and I had a little misunderstanding after he got me cutlery for Christmas last year, and the year previously. I passionately despise cutlery! And I think for Santa to get me that two Christmases in a roll was pure inconsideration. I almost choked on my wrath trying to swallow it when I opened my beautifully sealed presents. Now you know why I'm moaning about Christmas arriving early. It's because I'm not expecting anything special. Santa is so over me, and I so over him. The guy is lucky he didn't get a good beating the two previous Christmases. He surely deserved it. Even worse. *** I've known clever, calculating artists in my lifetime, but Beyonce grabs the largest cake! Damn, the chick is one massive schemer! When she realized her latest album, 4, had flopped in the charts, she quickly dived onto plan B. Head first! And plan B was announcing her pregnancy at the VMA's - in front of a million viewers. And I thought she was a private person!!! Well, it gets even better. Now that the Crazy In Love bootylicious singer has been snubbed at the Grammy nominations, she makes another confusing announcement. Apparently her most awaited foetus will actually be arriving in December 2011, and not March 2012 as previously mentioned. And the question is; is she pregnant for real? Where are the surrogate and "prosthetic" pregnancy rumors coming from? The last I heard, there's no smoke without a cigarette. Well, I guess only Bey knows whether she's really expecting or not. Well done Mrs Carter! Scheming doesn't surpass that. (And if she's truly in the family way, I hope the foetus doesn't look like its father. For its own good) *** I saw Twilight Saga - Breaking Dawn today. The love between Bella and Edward is so flipping intense! I didn't know vampires could love with such scorching desire. I'm definitely disappearing to the remotest valley of the universe to search for my own vampire. I burningly long for a love so vehement. A love that's out of this world...

Breaking up...

My darling XBox 360, This is possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do since my messy, scandalous break up with the Wii. Oh my, how can I forget the tears I caused playstation 1 after he found out I was messing around with his younger brother, playstation 2, behind his back... That was very uncool! Anyhow, let me get straight to the point here. I wish there was a much easier way to do this. But there isn't. Unfortunately! XBox 360, I'm really really sorry but I'm severing our amorous ties. I sincerely wish things were different, that I didn't have to do this... You'll always have a special place in my heart! Hannah. *** No no no no, Hannah! Tell me this is one of your horrific, stale jokes. You can't break up with me... You just can't! I love you... Come on... You and I... We love each other... You know I'm not like any of the others you've been with. I'm not one of the Sony guys. I am me; XBOX 360. A product of microsoft. The best in the world! And you love me... Please Hannah, don't do this to me... I'm begging you! Yours always XBox 360 *** I really wish I was joking, XBOX 360. I really wish I was! Hannah *** What is it that I've done wrong, my darling? Tell me, please. We can talk it over. We can sort it. It's you and me, remember? Nothing is ugly or bold enough to break us... Yours, XBOX 360 *** *No reply from Hannah* Come on Hannah, what is it? Is there someone else? That Sony guy, playstation 3? Is it? Please tell me it's not... Anyone but him... Yours XBOX 360 *** I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. Hannah *** So I was right, it's the pampous playstation 3 who you've been seeing behind my back? Goddamnit, you didn't even have the guts to tell me face to face? The whole world must have thought me a downright fool! How long has it been going on, Hannah? How long? *** I didn't plan this, ok? I fell in love... *** Ha ha ha! Love? Darn! If only you knew the real meaning of the word love! He will never love you like I do, that playstation 3. He's just like his brothers...SCUMS! They may look tough and poshy outwardly but I'll always be the best inwardly.

Language and Thought

Linguistic determinism has been majorly debated for years and years without any satisfactory conclusion. "Do the limits of our language really mean the limit of our world?" Well, for the sake of my sanity, I won't go too deep into the confusing details of the theory. It's much safer for my average mind to remain where its understanding makes its stop. And this stop is on Peter Gordon's hypothesis that states that "language MAY shape human thought!" I've purposely capitalized "may" for obvious reasons... Anyway, this is the question that prompted this post; do humans always think in a language they know, or does thought have its own unique language? I've tried to quietly listen to my thoughts a number of times to make sense of it all but I still can't come up with a favorable answer. I know for sure that I think in a particular language when I'm writing,reciting or rehearsing a speech. For I'm more conscious then. But does the same apply when I'm thinking unconsciously? I've never thought so! It's like the mind has its own unique language...a language only the mind understands. Damn, trying to explain this is harder than I thought. Well, sod it! Language may shape human thought but at the end of the day it's the thought that creates language! I'm done here!

Marriages and Divorces

I know I said I had come to the end of my blogging days in one of my previous posts... Oh well, I lied! I'm a soul tortured by words. I can never stop blogging! My intention when I logged in was merely to give my opinion on Demi Moore and Ashton Kuctcher's impending divorce. But I've changed my mind. Quoting Ashton Kutcher: "Marriage is one of the most difficult things in the world and unfortunately sometimes they fail." That says it all. Everything! Finito!!!

Surrealism

They say "what you never had you never miss"? Well... How come I painfully miss him - the one close to the peak where the spirits of the ancestors reside? How come I longingly think of him with every tick of the clock? How come I see him in my cosiest, rosiest dreams?

I strongly believe that besides a gift of natural talent, every great artist has with them an emotion, so overwhelmingly deep, that motivates and helps them be expert at what they do. Others like to call this motivation a drive. As I've always said in my previous posts, an overflow of sadness prompted me to blog. I honestly have no idea what transpired this sadness, but it was so much it needed an outlet. So I blogged. And blogged. I don't know if it's the blogging that cured me of my condition (which I thought was chronic) but one day I woke up and I wasn't sad any more. To my big surprise! And now that I'm no longer sad, I've frustratingly been finding it hard to come up with anything juicy to put down on my anxious page. I feel like my creativity has made a duck on me...has deserted me when I need it the most... When I still badly want to write... Oh yes, I want to write... So bad, the feeling makes me ache so ravingly in my bones. I want to write And write... I want to write till it makes me sick to my stomach Only I have nothing else left to write... So till I'm sad again, or when an emotion more tormenting than sadness grips my soul, it's adios to you my dear blog! ***

Sleep tight, Heavy D!

Another hip hop star bites the dust.
A crystal- clear reminder that everything that has a beginning has to eventually get to that final full-stop. An end!

Till later, Heavy D!

X

Firstly, I'm seriously considering losing my bloody iPhone. This little gadget is more trouble than it's worth. It irritatingly shrieks incessantly, bringing discomfort in my life. Plus, it is pig-headed, thinks it knows it all.

Secondly, I wanted to talk a little about Michael Jackson's trial and Kim Kadarshan's divorce. But I'm just after realizing now the immensity of the f*** I don't give about the two topics.

Thirdly, it's all about Zahara's Loliwe. Damn, if you can't find it in your soul to love Zahara, then I guess you have no single shred of appreciation for real talent!

Finally, I have nothing more to discuss. Thank you!

Jehovah Witness Woes...

Jehovah Witness advocates have been frequent visitors of my household for the past couple of years. They are the only humans who've stood at my door step more than a hundred times, or close...that's if my calculation serves me correctly. These people have also broken a record of violently ringing my door bell more times than any other creature who's ever rang it. I rest my case a long time ago. The guys' persistence is a bit on a petrifying side. Very inhuman! Even for true advocates!!!

From the first day the godly guys graced my doorstep, I've lied I can't speak the Queens Language properly, and that I don't own the house. They know me as just an illiterate babysitter from Malawi. (Don't you start with preaching to me about lying being a sin. I know that already. And I'm fully prepared to burn in hell...).
So every occasion they've visited and found me, I've always repeated the very same untrue phrases: "Me babysitter. No English. Boss not here."

But last night, things took a very dramatic turn!
It was 7pm, and I had just got home from work. I was comfortably clad in my pajamas watching my favorite series in my bed when the door bell angrily rang.
I should have just ignored it!
There they were, my godly buddies...
I was like "Holy Shite"! (In my mind, of course).

This is the verbal exchange we had:

Jehovah witness: "Hi again, Muado (that's the alias I use when dealing with the godly guys. It's slang for "underwear" in my language). Is your boss here today?
Me: "boss, wo...
Before I finished saying the word work, my 6 year old idiot came down the steps from upstairs.

Orama: (while poking me in the back) "Mum, quick, Eastenders is on... come on..."
All eyes were on me...
Then he looked at me, then at the Jehovah Witness and said: "oh, mum, I didn't know you could speak Chinese. Cool."

You can just imagine the weight of my shame!!!

Let the children come to ME.

What's not fatal...

If there is one thing I HATE with more venomous passion than frogs, then it's predictability! From predictable people to predictable events... I'm afraid the 2011 Rugby world cup final, which took place this morning, was so painfully predictable that I had to switch the TV off to avoid smashing it altogether! But well done to New Zealand, all the same! *** Lately I've been wondering about some aspects of this life. It's really so hard to get spot-on answers about so many things. Is it true that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger? I thought the other way round was true - that what doesn't kill you makes you weaker... Until I learnt otherwise - that what doesn't kill you makes you bitter. But then someone else said something totally different to me. That what doesn't kill you actually makes you better. That made more sense!

Gaddafi!

"History, despite its wrenching pain, can not be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again" Maya Angelou - one of the few African-American women with courage, swagger in abundance and a superb mind to match. I love this woman so. The quote above really has nothing to do with what I have in mind as subject for this blog. I'm just so much in love with it keeps popping in my head. I thought I should write it down before it dissolves in my brain. So Muammar Gaddafi has ceased to breathe. After chaotically flipping Libya, and the world in general upside down, that's it? Really??? No bloody way!!! What a painful anticlimax! I don't know about you, but at times I think death is way too cheap and easy a punishment. Especially to cockroaches like Gaddafi. The "animal" should have been given savage crippling instead. Like castration. Then his naked manhood-less body should have been displayed in a place like the zoo... For visual pleasure to all the poor innocent souls who suffered under his cruelty! I'm certainly not celebrating... I might as well change subject here or else I run a great risk of getting really pissed off. So for everyone's safety, I'm going to talk about sports - my third love. Who watched Chelsea FC kick Racing Genk hard in the shin last night? What do you think about the new invincible Torres? That's just the beginning of greatness for the prestigious football clubs, peeps. That's just the beginning! Arsenal had a late, very lucky win against Marseilles. A very lucky win! I'd still commit suicide if I were Wenger. The club is on its way to relegation... I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to Sunday with enthusiasm of a horny frog. Why? Let's see; Manchester Derby, Rugby World Cup final, Manchester Derby... I can't wait! In rugby I'll be rooting for France. Out of principle. I have some unresolved issues with All Blacks. In "Manshite" Derby, I'm nobody's man. I'll just sit back and hate on both teams.

The Story Behind my Blog.

Different people blog for different reasons. Some blog to promote their businesses, and others do it to stave off boredom. When I signed up for this sucker almost three years ago, I was a very wounded spirit. That was the most difficult time of my life! I felt like joy had abandoned me. I was a bundle of nerves with injured, infected emotions scattered all over the place. I remember questioning the essence of life. I was in a darkest place with no way out, or hope of light. The hardest thing about my situation was, I had no idea why I was so consistently sad. I couldn't talk to relatives or friends... I knew they wouldn't get it. Plus I didn't want to choke anybody with my problems. That's when I started blogging. Finally I felt like I had an outlet for all that was rotten and contaminating my spirit inside me. It was a relief. A big relief! Now, almost three years later, here I am. Badly scarred but no longer wounded. No longer bleeding. No longer in pain. And most importantly, no longer sad. This blog has played quite a big role in teaching me the facts of life. I'm more mentally and emotionally stable than I was when I first started blogging. By writing down my feelings, I've ironically learnt to understand myself more. And the more I understand myself, the more agile and adept I've become at tackling this life. I've learnt to accept the things that I can not change and still enjoy every breath I take. No matter how bitchy the pain. So, no longer a wounded soul, I now blog out of habit! **** There's this thing about me; every morning when I wake up, I have a song persistently buzzing in my head. It becomes the song I sing the entire day. I go around my daily activities humming it. I never get sick or tired of it. Then I sleep again and it's all over. It's a different song every morning... Today's song is NOTHING by The Script. I'm humming it in my head as I type this... **** I can't wait for Liverpool to beat the shite out of Manchester United tomorrow!

The bitterest taste of defeat!

Today, I woke up feeling like a swaggerless cockroach. I'm sure I even smelt like one. That, I tell you, was super depressing! One of my favorite activities of the day is stealing glances at myself in public mirrors and mall windows. I like the eerie, uncanny feeling I get when my eyes stare right into the eyes of my reflection. It's insatiably fascinating! But today I avoided anything that resembles a mirror like a plague. Having woken up feeling and smelling like a cockroach, I was afraid of what I might see in the mirror... probably a not-so-pretty cockroach staring back at me... That would not have been a pretty sight! Well, I've regained some of my personality and swagger now, thank heaven! I just wish I wasn't agonizing about The Springboks being booted out of the Rugby world cup... But the wounds are still very fresh. That means I'm going to agonize for quite some time. What really hurt is the brutal fact that the Boks came so close... It was only a matter of one more try and the mighty win would have been theirs... But shite just got too tight out there. Anyhow, what's done is done. I'll simply have to agonize more loudly than before and hope the pain will soon dissolve inside my soul. ANGER and SADNESS, both highly destructive emotions but in different ways. Anger is like a volcano, it boils up inside you and badly scalds every one at close proximity and afar. Sadness, on the other hand, is more like acid. It gradually eats you up inside and destroys every minute particle of happiness. Anger is short-lived. The havoc it causes is horrendous, but temporary. Sadness is permanent. It never leaves you.

Shite gets real!

It's the quarter finals of the rugby world cup 2011. Shite just got real, man! I mean, Really real!! Ireland vs Wales England vs France South Africa vs Australia New Zealand vs Argentina Even though my heart beats for Springboks, every orifice in my anatomy feels year 2011 is the year for All Blacks. Let's watch on boys...

ZAHARA!!!

Perhaps some of you have questions about the title of this post; what has Brangeline's adopted kid done now to deserve a special mention in my reverend blog? Well, I'm sorry to be a great disappointment here, but the Zahara you see on top there has absolutely nothing to do with that hot, famous couple from Hollywood with a bunch of adopted children. No! I'm talking about the new African MUSIC SENSATION who's taken the universe by a huge quake. When I say universe, I mean with all the other unknown planets included. Yes, even aliens are singing sweet praises about Zahara. People on earth are saying she is the next best thing...I completely choose to differ. No offense. I don't think Zahara is the next best thing, no. She is the BEST THING! Whose album goes multiplatinum in less than two weeks? The moment Zahara opens her beautiful mouth to sing, magic happens. A voice so impeccably calming, so profoundly rich! In it you find traces of Tracy Chapman, Judith Seiphuma, India Arie, Miriam Makeba, Amy Winehouse and many more other massive artists. In it you find peace and heavenly quietness. What actually puts strings on my heart about this new great Star, apart from her unbelievably great talent, is her sense of tradition. She is indeed a true queen from Mother Bossom. A bonafide African TOPLINER! Now, who do I blackmail to have these itchy claws of mine on Zahara's latest magical work? I know, my brother in - law...

Sonnet 116

"Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks...but bears it out even to the end of doom"! Sonnet 116 What exactly brought the above classic, heavily romantic poem up in my head? Well, Seven years ago today, my honourable hubby and I did the "till death do us part" thinging. To be honest, I never imagined I'd last a minute as a married woman. And neither did I think it possible nor sensible for anyone to love a disagreeable person like me so tirelessly for as long as a day, let alone seven years! I guess time has proved me wrong here. In clarification, Married life hasn't been that much of a smooth slide. There have been tears, anger, long faces...but most importantly, there have been genuine smiles, laughter and love in abundance. Definitely the good times outweigh the bad... This morning, for my anniversary present, I woke up to a sweet recital of Shakespeare's sonnet 116 - one of my favourite love poems of all time. I had actually forgotten I had asked for that as my present. So hearing it the upon waking up was absolutely a beautiful surprise! By far the greatest, most gorgeous, most thoughtful gift I've ever been given. Indeed, "love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. Or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken..." Seven years gone and forever more to come!

Rugby: South Africa vs Namibia

The UNVANQUISHED Springboks! 87 - 0? No bloody way! It's inconceivable how Namibia is feeling at this particular time.

...Oh lord, my "rear passage" is on fire. Yes, by rear passage I mean bum-bum. It feels as if it's been excreting razor blades the whole year through. That's how demoralising piles (haemorrhoids) can be! They are sick. In case you are wondering how my "ass" found itself in this predicament, no, I'm not pregnant. And I didn't engage in anal sex either. It's just my irate hormones conspiring against me. They don't want to see me happy. **I certainly wonder how sexually active male gays survive the torture...

Growth.

This morning, as the world opened its eyes to a new day, I learnt one more new thing about myself. It's insane the adjustments human beings make over time! Last week, Serena Williams, my favourite tennis player of all time, failed to add one more slam to her collection of thirteen. I was gutted. Truly gutted! But I realised the pain of her cold defeat was not as intense this time around as it has always been over the years. I was surprised I didn't stay the whole night awake after the match to analyse Serena's errors and agonise about what "would, should, could have been"... Instead, I slept. Soundly and comfortably, with no dreams of the reverse of the match. That truly weirded me out! Yesterday, Chelsea FC, the most prestigious football club earth has ever had the privilege to know, got a crippling whipping at the Old Traffords. And again, my soul bled... but not as overflowingly as it has always done before. After this realisation, I sat down and asked myself; "what is happening to me"? Suddenly I don't feel anymore? Have I finally turned into Big Baby from Toy Story, unfeeling, untouched, unconcerned??? Then I understood that, no, I hadnt turned into Big Baby. Not at all. I still have my emotions in tact. I still feel. The only thing that has changed in me is my mental and emotional maturity. Yes, I have grown up so much mentally and emotionally that life's mishaps don't seem so final anymore. I've learnt to accept that sometimes we have to face failure to appreciate future victories. And more importantly, I've learnt the art of letting go. I've realised it's not as impossible as it always seems! Billy Shankly may think football is more serious than a matter if life and death, but it's still a game at the end of the scores. So Arsenal FC fans wherever you are, cheer up! 8 - 2 was criminal, yes, but not mortal. Lol

I don't like sitting in idleness... For the moment I do, I start to think... Insane, pitch-black senselessness of thoughts. Then my world gets dangerously tense... And all stops making sense. That's when I start believing in the nonsense of nonsense making sense. Oh lord... Perhaps I was born merely to make no sense... *My thoughts are detrimental to my sanity* ***** For reasons I'd rather not disclose, I've always thought my next door neighbour queer. Well, today, my assumptions were affirmed. The guy came crying to me this afternoon, accusing my dog of putting his dog "in the family way" (sic). At first I just stood there in shock, staring at him... Then he continued with a whole lot of bull about how my dog must have taken advantage of his dog who happens to be a bit behind with the clock... When my slow brain had digested the craziness spewing out of this guy's mouth, an uncontrollable laughing fit ensued. That made him cry even more. He thought I thought the incident a joke. Well, I still think it a giant joke. Really, who goes blaming a neighbour for their pet's "pregnancy"? (I believe they call it gestation in animals?) Anyhow, I effortfully got myself together and explained to him that my dog was unfortunately infertile and gay, therefore incapable of fathering any pups. Lord, I shouldn't have said that! Let's just say it didn't end so amicably. The guy now wants a DNA test... He threatens to sue if ever there's any resistance from our side.

Serena's Tirade.

Serena Williams tirade at the US Open 2011 was justified. That chair umpire very well deserved every rotten verbal punch she got. "She is a hater, and very unattractive inside"! Honestly, there was no way in hell Sam Stosur was going to return that particular ball...even if Serena had been deathly mute. It was just not possible! Now I'm asking myself, had Serena won that point in question, would she have turned the match around and win it? Not many people, including Serena herself think so. But I do! #teamSerenatilleternity!!! *** Tonight; Nadal vs Djokovic #teamNadal

...at the remotest part of earth...making memories I won't have any memory of. That's me... There are three categories of human beings: 1. Women - females, 2. Men - males, and 3. "The Miss J Alexanders" - she-hes. If you possess every characteristic of humans in category 1, but you are not looking forward to the Rugby world cup, it's beyond reasonable doubt that you fall under category 3 of humans instead. That's quite harsh I know, but life is harsh.

One of my friends always says that playing Barcelona FC is like an infliction to a team that plays it. I say Serena Williams is like a death penalty to all other female tennis players! If you are drawn against her, especially in a slam, the odds are most likely against your poor ass. I smell grand slam championship number 14 for Miss Williams... *** Life isn't complicated, human beings are!

Tj's First Day at School

My proudest yet most painful moment ever!

Orama tinamumeta...nsabwe

Stupid iPhone 4!!!

Stupid Apple! Why does the bloody iPnone 4 have to have a bloody glass cover back and front? I'm pissed off!!! First, I dropped the stupid phone and the back shattered. Now I've dropped it again, and it's the front that is "injured".

Flushing Meadows Day 5

Maria Sharapova ousted? *SMH*

Flushing Meadows Day 4

So the Slam slams on at Flushing Meadows. Miss Serena Williams is crushing her unfortunate opponents spirits with nothing resembling a molecule of mercy. Maria Sharapova, the creme de la creme of women's tennis has upped her game since the "Heather-Watson" episode in her first round. Damn, the chicken is kicking butt! The Spaniard hunk, Nadal, the defending champion of the slam, aims to defend his title with an ooze of pure confidence from every pore of his soul. Man, you gotta love Nadal. Unloving him is just contrary to reason. The Feds Express (Roger Federer) is on a mission to get back on top where he belongs. But the question is, will The undefeatable Serb (Novak Djokovic) allow him the pleasure? I don't think so. Something tells me Djokovic is far from done with his sweet revenge on the Swiss. Let's watch on! **** As I mentioned in my earlier blog, yesterday I did the most difficult thing any mother is ever asked to do - sending her last born baby to school. Yes, my baby Tj has now joined his big brother Orama into the school slavery. My heart bleeds! Leaving my baby there, on his own, in a class full of strange little faces was a lot harder than I expected. He was sitting there, on that small desk, looking at me sadly with his big brown eyes...begging me not to go...asking me to stay with him. But I had to go. I had to leave him. Shite, I'm breaking down again as I write this. I don't think I'll get used to the pain...

Venus Williams pulls out of the US Open...

The tennis world is greatly and genuinely disheartened by Venus Williams withdrawal from the US Open due to an illness. The seven times grand slam champion announced last night that she had been diagnosed of an autoimmune disease (sjogren's syndrome) and would be unable to continue at the US Open. Very sad! I hope V gets better the soonest. But for now I guess Serena is forced to fly the Williams mighty flag alone at the US:(

Flushing Meadows Day 3

The mighty Miss Serena Wiliams, mightier than ever before, began the battle for her fourth US Slam title last night in front of thousands of giddy creatures at Arthur stadium, New York. In less than an hour, Miss Williams who hasn't been at Flushing Meadows since her misdemeanour in 2009, had already dispatched her opponent to the great delight of yours truly. A huge well done to her!

Venus Williams is in action tonight against Sabine Lisick. I wish her well. Lisick can sometimes be quite disrespectful towards former number ones. Venus definitely needs her best game!
****

Tomorrow, the 1st of September 2011, I send my last born baby, Tj, to the slavery called school. I'm having a soak in my own tears. I fail to decipher how time has flown so ridiculously quickly! Why can't we keep these "animals" little forever?

Flushing Meadows day 2

Goodmorrrrning Earth, Hurricane Irene did us all tennis freaks a favour and left Flushing Meadows "uninjured"! Good stuff.

Here is some of yesterday's US Open tennis 2011 results; Venus Williams advanced, dodging first casualty, with ease. So did the Feds Express. But I can't say the same for Maria Sharapova. Her road to second round wasn't that smooth. The former world numero uno played her opening match against the British teen, Heather Watson, who had one murderous plan. Shame it didn't work out for her...Heather's murderous plan...to the disappointment of the Brits. Sharapova dropped the first set, strugglingly took the second and finished the deciding like a proper pro she is. Well done to her! And to Heather for showing the world that she can take on former world number ones without so much as sweat dripping from her soul.

Miss Serena Williams plays her opening match tonight. I've sprained a couple of nerves in anticipation!
I tell you, there is nothing that scares the core of my soul more than watching Serena play her first match. It never matters what tournament. I guess my fear has more to do with the "fear" of first casualty. It's always there...the fear of first casualty. No matter how big a player.
*****

On sunday, I watched the movies For Colored Girls and Precious one after the other. I ended up getting depressed! The movies have a lot of issues, man... Putrid issues!
But I pacified my injured soul with Bad Teacher. I love Cameron Diaz. She's such a "Chic"!

Finally got my claws on Beyonce's 4! I'm elated! However, I haven't yet made up my mind about most of the tracks in it. I absolutely love "I was here". In a weird way, I feel it talks about me...lol And I think "Start over" is the best in there. Beyonce genuinely put her whole soul into the song. And the depth of feeling and maturity in the lyrics is profound. I love it!
All in all, I don't think the album is as fierce as Shasa Fierce - my opinion - I'm entitled to it:)
****

My honourable hubby has a cold...(he's not faking this time) koma eeeeh...the exaggeration...one would think the dude is about to siya ze ufa! Men are a true conundrum!

Flushing Meadows 2011.

So Beyonce finally has a life growing inside her! Shweeet!!!
Earth is exhilarated!
I wish Miss Knowles the very best of the morbid morning sickness and heartburn.
And I pray the baby doesn't look like its dad...lol

Well, that's that. Jay-z and B have been sexing... it's ok. Let's now concentrate on what's happening in New York City at Flushing Meadows.
It's ON, baby!
It's SO ON...
I mean the last tennis slam of the year...
You should all see the smile on my soul...

I really really really...
I mean, really want to write about how Arsenal FC got viciously "RAPED" and "Impregnated" with octuplets this afternoon at Old Trafford...
I really really want to give my sage opinion on the sad matter, but eeeish...I'm quite speechless with the news, myself.

Really, how does such a giant, most revered football club like Arsenal allow itself to get "ManHandled" in such a soul shattering fashion?
*SMDH*

Football, such a harsh game!
At the beginning of this year, I told myself that I wasn't going to follow both the Premier and champions league to save my heart from breaking. But I realise I lied to myself. I'm deeply stuck into this destructive marriage with Chelsea. No matter how badly I get hurt, no matter how sadly I cry, I still go back to Chelsea. The "Guy" has a serious hold on my damn soul, it's crazy!
I didn't know pain can be so addictive.

Anyway, I guess now it's time for me to help the mourners at Emirates mourn loudly and reflect on the shite that's upon them.
Amen!
****

The hurricane wants to piss on my tennis; well f*** it!

If you spell my name like this: "Hana", then your existence is inexistent to me.
If you spell it like this: "Hanna", then you deserve everlasting affliction...

To neanderthals who take pleasure in stripping my name naked, it ends today!
****

Dear Chelsea FC,

I'm breaking up with you.

Yours forever,
Hannah!
***

To all tennis freaks, Flushing Meadows commences Monday, the 29th of August. Let's see if Novak Djokovic can maintain his unconquerable streak.
#I'm a SerenaTard eternally!

Last night, I fell asleep on the couch while watching cartoons with my youngest son. I knew I was sleeping, yet I felt so much awake. I have no idea how long I stayed in that zombish state, but the next thing I saw, but with my eyes closed, was the tv in front of me... It had mysteriously taken some sort of human form and was saying if I didn't go to bed in fifteen counts, it would come and swallow me up. Yes, the tv said that...
Within a tick of a second, I had my son in one hand, and the phone in the other, flying up the stairs like a mad mother eagle high on crack.

***I'm a dead man walking!

***Ndamupeza Gaddafi. Iye ndi banja lake aku chiller in my crib:)

Hallucinations and Dreams!

Yesterday, the eeriest...most uncanny...most unearthly thing happened to me...
Again...
I'm losing my marbles...
uu

Being a music junkie, HMV is like my second home. I'm there more times than a jailbird is in jail.
So yeah, yesterday, as usual, I graced this second home of mine with one of my many graceful visits. I was looking for something youthful and Innovative to add to my tired, obsolete music collection. I feel music is like an underwear - it needs to be changed every day...

Ok, so there I were, making the grandest, most anxious entrance into HMV - my heart doing happy flips in my sternum in anticipation... Then suddenly, all froze! One by one my dreadlocks stood still in my head, my heart turned into a motionless iceberg. I literally felt my blood freeze in my veins. There, In front of me, stood a very familiar but yet unfamiliar face. Its dark lifeless eyes pierced right through mine, straight to my soul. Staring at it with palpable emptiness...
I tried to vigorously shake myself awake. But I realised I was already awake. Then I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. I thought if I did that then the eerie image in my head would disappear...
I damn wish I had kept my eyes open!

All went pitch black the moment my eyelids shut.
Everything and everyone vanished into the blackness.
It was just me and the strange eyes. Its face had disappeared too.
Then I heard a sound...like that of an earthquake.
It was a voice...
It was saying to me, "You are so coming with me."
I tried to run, but my legs were stagnated at one place.
I tried to scream, but my voice was frozen in my larynx
The eyes were walking swiftly towards where I was...
A strong stench of something dark engulfed me
It was that of death.
The eyes were now a cm away. I had almost surrendered to my fate.

"Ma'am, ma'am, can I help you?" Asked a woman's voice.
I looked up. A shop assistant was standing beside me. I didn't answer her. Instead, I continued to stare listlessly right in front of me, searching for those eyes I had just seen in my hallucination. They were gone. Only a giant poster of Amy Winehouse stood there.
"Ma'am, are you ok?" The shop assistant asked once more with concern in her soft voice.
I stared at her blankly for about a minute while I tried to stop myself from shivering. Then I turned and exited the shop. For good!

I've been hallucinating a lot lately. And my dreams get darker and spookier. At times they are so vivid, I can touch them. As soon as I hit the pillow, it begins. Sometimes it's the dead, or the boogeyman. Other times just darkness. It spooks me more than the ghosts and the boogeyman, the darkness. It's the coldest, the most cruel...

The boogeyman has no face. But I know it has a human shape and wears dark clothes. It pays me more visits than the ghosts or the darkness.
The boogeyman never changes its routine. Its approach is always the same. As soon as sleep takes over, there it comes. First I hear my bedroom door so slowly opening, then the dark faceless shape in dark clothing enters and makes its way to my bed. It walks on tiptoes. Always!
These days I've learnt not to scream anymore when "Boogey" pays me a visit. No one hears me. Mostly this unnatural visitor of mine just sits there and watches me sweat with fear. But there are times when it has sex with me. It's a feeling I can't put into words... Other times it just roughly sucks on my boobs. And when it's angry it smothers me. My husband thinks I should go to the black doctors and get help. He stays awake most nights just to look at me while I'm restlessly asleep. He says it's scary what I do and say while deep in slumber. But he never sees the what I see. He never sees the boogeyman. Even when he's right there ravishing me.
The ghosts are normally easier to deal with. Mostly it's my dad, or grandma. I usually just tell them to fuck off.

The darkness is another story...
Maybe one day I'll have sufficient courage to write about it.

One day, I woke up, and decided I didn't want to believe in the most feared Deity above anymore. I tell you, I have never felt more free and in control!
Today, I woke up, and decided I don't need the literature degree I've been studying for the past year. I've learnt and I'm wiser than I was before last year. That's it guys, I'm shamelessly calling it QUITS!
Come on, go ahead...say it. I know you want to...
Well, yes, I am a quitter. Leaving unfinished businesses is my business.
When things get tedious and uninteresting, I quit and move on to other alluring adventures. Forever chasing the chase, that's me! I'm allergic to boredom:)
Not that the "Literary world" got to that stale point (the way most things in my life do) that I was forced to quit, no! It was actually unbelievably lakker! And to add pepper to a well salted roasted steak, I took to it like a duck takes to water. Or the way a fly takes to waste...
You are now probably wondering why I quit if the course was such an enjoyment?
Well, after getting my end of year results, which I'm not ashamed to say were above average, I realised the pointlessness of my continuing with the degree. With that delicious result in my hand, I feel I have finally proven a very imperative point: I am a competent creature of literature...with or without a degree! Literature resides in my blood, bones and guts. Literature is "I"!
My family and friends are greatly disheartened by my decision not to finish the degree, but I'm not budging. Done I am with late night studying...
To hell with oppressive exams. They are the bane of my existence!
In general, school makes me feel like a caged bird. It always did. And I'd rather be dead than be kept in a cage.

Ok, so school is out. But there are a million other exciting things I wanna do with my life. Things that won't put tabs on me. Like rewarding my family, particulary my children, with the best and most of my time. I can never go wrong with that. A guileless smile on Orama's toothless grimace is all I need to make my soul joyfully leap with tenderness. A squeaky chuckle from tiny Titch is worth a million dollar degree. And a look of raw love from my man is everything I need. Books have already stolen so much of my precious time with my family. I'm not making that mistake again. I don't want to wake up one day and realise my boys have grown a forest of beard in my absence. I want to be there every step of the way...
Obtaining a degree isn't the ultimate for me! My family's happiness is.


THE EXHUSTION THAT COMES WITH HAVING MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES

Hannah,
Who is she, really?
Oh, how I wish I knew!

The thing is, I've for a long time hid behind my alters and I'm now a bit wound up about who ME is. Sometimes I created the alters to dodge pain bestowed upon me. And other times I did it to kill familiarity. Lately I feel like I've totally lost myself in these multiple personalities I acquired along the way - I have lost the real me.
For so long I've jumped from alter to alter...living life as these imageries I'd form in my fantasies. Now I don't feel like I know who I am anymore.
It gets really dark at times. Especially when other people get hurt in the process. I'd never intentionally inflict pain on a fly. Nor would I wish an albino cockroach, despite my profound aversion for it, any discomfort. But I've unwittinly hurt so many other human beings while living in my fantasies. No one understands... No one gets it.
I'm a being divided in two. Physically, I'm there, breathing the air we all breathe in. Mentally, I'm in a different planet all together, rubbing shoulders with aliens. It's exhausting!!!

Well Graceful, don't lose any sleep over my surrealness. I'm just a soul searching for her soul. I may never find it!
So bear with me...
*******

*The lame moment when Chelsea gets held in their first game of the English premier league. I'm annoyed!

*People think tennis is a matter of life and death...well, it goes beyond life, or death...I can assure you. When Serena is fit and serene on court, tennis is much more than a matter of life and death! (I stole the line above from Bill Shankly).

If my favourite Williams "chic" grabs the Cincinnati title, I will ask her to marry me:)

** after all is said and done, I still strongly believe in love - the eternal connection of two souls. But I'm now wise enough to know that the gripping, sizzling, real intense kind of love never exists in the real world - Only in literature - where Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff have real faces...and blood racing in their veins - and in a world of imagination - fantasy - where the sky in never the limit.

Oh, how I love literature...where all is possible...
Oh, how my mind hankers for the world of imagination...where life never gets boring...
But reality betrays me...

Randomness...

Today I have learnt that life never gives anyone living a full break! Maybe you are thinking, "what's happened to her now?" Well, life is shite! Just when I thought my creativity on page (which for some time has been fast asleep) had finally made that eternal resurrection, just when the muse to pick up a pencil had again settled nicely in me, my stupid computer hard drive decided to have a fatal crashing of its own. I feel so helpless! A good big chunk of my life has been stolen from me: The new project I was working on, my memorabilia, my music...even Insanity Resides on Facebook is gone... I'm DONE for! So done for!! ******* And on top of all the shite, Amy Winehouse's ghost seems to be relishing in haunting me. Last night I had exactly the same nightmare I'd had the night she passed on. I saw Glass pipes, kush, snow, booze, all jiving in the moonlight. Then suddenly came Amy's sad face... I woke up, drenching wet...as if I had spent the entire night swimming in my own sweat. I'm beyond spooked! Now as I write this, Back to Black is playing in the background. I've lost count how many times I've listened to the album since Amy died. It's excellent beyond excellence. But the lyrics are dark, man. They give your soul a blinding smack that leaves your whole life with a tangible shining mark... Why is it that the profoundly talented seem to be more prone to self harm and destruction? Like Billie Holiday, or Brenda Fassie, or Whitney Houston? I wonder what message of significance Amy Winehouse's ghost has for me... If it's my mum sending her because she's posthumously worried about my glue-sniffing habit, then I get it. I'll STOP! ****** Sometime back I decided to turn off my spell check on both my computer (sadly deceased now) and iPhone. This decision was made with an aim to challenge, but also confront the extent of my illiteracy. But today I realise technology has me tightly by the balls. I can't do without any of it. I'm too bloody attached to machines. Well, at least I tried. And failed. Maybe I'll try again one day. I'll probably fail again. But I know I'll fail better then. ****** This is obviously the longest blog I've scribbled since last month. It's because I've been so busy trying to put my second book together. Now with my hard drive dead, it seems Insanity Resides on Facebook won't have a friend. Talking about Insanity Resides on Facebook, it's doing quite well - especially on Amazon. Better that I had ever expected. People who've read it have wondered why I chose to write my first born book in the style it's written in? Almost like a personal diary??? Well, because I didn't want to give anybody a chance to question or scrutinise my dodgy literary skills. Critics do an excellent job of crashing hope in young writers. They are ruthless! So you may say I was a bit terrified... ****** No, I refuse to talk about the riots in the UK Or politics in Malawi No, I refuse to open my mouth about the English premier league and it's heartbreaks... But give me tennis, anytime! The US Open Grand Slam starts on the 29th of August, 2011. I'm getting drunk with anticipation. ***** Finally, JLo back together with Diddy! Damn shame, dame!!! Love is definitely a losing game!

Leo number 2 Exits the womb...

Happy Birthday Tichatonga "Mophead" Dauramanzi!
"Everyday I find my little heart loving you a little bit more..."
And more...
And a whole LOT MORE!


***It takes more than courage to share my household space with two raging "Lions" and a mad "Ram", and loving them unconditionally!!!

Terrific Tuesday.

I've come to a harrowing conclusion that psychoanalysis is esoteric for only the intellectually PSYCHOTIC! I almost lost my sane mind in the insane labyrinth of Oedipus complexity. Adios Freud! Hope your path and mine never cross ever again!

***Today's lesson: Ninety-nine percent of the times, I don't say what I mean...or feel what I say. And only a percent of these times, do I truly mean what I write. So don't take me too seriously. For my own life falls short of seriousness!

Happy Birthday Roger Federer!

As the "Feds Express" skids right into his 30th birthday, I am having a soul to soul with psychoanalysis. It's some real dope shite! The deeper I get into it, the more I'm convinced that Freud's psychosis was ineluctable.

**Today's fact: A real man takes his wife's surname:)

A tormented soul.

Yes, I've got dreadlocks
Yes, I sometimes light up a spliff or two...
To balance up my unbalanced emotions
Yes, I'm obsessed with disliking our friends with no "pigmentation".
Mind you, by saying "friends with no pigmentation", I don't exactly mean the albinos
And yes, I write...
Nonsense that no one wants to read usually, but that doesn't stop me!
I'm a soul tormented by words
Tortured
Mutilated...
To a point of total madness!
I wanna write
And write
Till there's nothing left to write.
I wanna grab every single tiny thought in my thoughts
Put it down on page...before it evaporates into eternal nothingness.
I wanna blow some life into it
Immortalise it...

Yes, I'm a soul haunted by words.

Goodmorning earthlings, it's Thursday today; obey your THIrst:)

Dealing with some very serious existential issues.
What purpose was I put here on earth for?
My soul seems to have detached itself from my emotions. I'm a robot!

And on top of this existential crisis, I think timidity has furtively crept into my reserves of creativity. I feel like a real GIANT fart!

Happy Birthday TJ!

Cake time


Tj's day...

On saturday, the 30th of July, 2011, my littlest "animal" Tj hit four years. I can't stop the tears from rolling...

Really, what does a mother do when the youngest fruit of her loin suddenly and quickly becomes a little man of his own little mind?

It stills feels like yesterday when I pushed the little boy out of my womb into this mad world... now he is four going on forty...

What else does a mother say...

***I'm so emotional now...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BOY!!!

Sleep, Amy, Sleep...

...cuz now you can

Sleep, Amy, sleep
You no more need to go on that risky trip
For your soul to flip
Oh Amy, frisky Dame
You no more need that whiskey nip
That your budding legendary life ripped
For now you can sleep

So sleep, Amy, sleep*
But your legacy need to sleep not!
For eternally it shall live
So I'll weep not

Sleep, Amy, sleep
****

Amy Winehouse's tragic passing has once again reminded me of a cruel but true fact that money can't purchase inner happiness.
A raw searing musical talent, global fame, 16 million bucks, 5 Grammy gongs...all that, among other glamorous things, didn't make Amy happy.
Since the day I heard about her passing, I've tormented myself with a thousand questions, wondering what it was that made this girl with a voice of an angel so desperately want to block out the world? What was it that pushed her to the edge and eventually into a dangerous world of drugs?
Now more than ever I despairingly hope there is truly a life after death. When time comes for me to go too, I'll be looking forward to getting answers from Amy herself!

RIP girl! Say Wazup to my mama, papa and bro there in heaven. The lot were troubled souls too.

Heavy hearts in Malawi.

DEMOCRACY SHOULD NEVER EVER COME TO THIS!




Blood shed wrongly for the right cause


Our deceased Red Army heroes...

I'm getting really sick of humans bringing up shit from the past whenever we have a disagreement!
Well, I'm sorry, but I can not unlive history.
So it's either you swallow that bitter fact and march on with life, or you lie there and choke on it. The choice is yours!
As of me, I'm truly marching on.
Time waits for no fool!

SwimWear

...when the itch to scribble becomes impossibly unbearable...
...when every single alphabetical character incessantly whispers in your ear, angering your eardrum...
"write me"
"write me"
Dear Lord, why do some of us choose to become captives of our own thoughts?
********

Hey G, it's been a while since you and I last got "intimate". I have been so busy trying to make use of the free oxygen around me, I couldn't spare a sec to write. I'm so sorry! But I'm here now. In my most creative magnificence.

Wimbledon 2011 is still a red raw bruise in my soul. Actually, I don't really want to talk about it...
*********

Chelsea FC has a new manager. I didn't get a chance to say adios to Ancelotti. But its ok, I won't miss the prick...lol
The English premier commences on the 15th of August 2011. Looking forward to a lot of heart breaks. I wonder if Wenger's oversized coat is still alive...
**********

I can't believe Casey Anthony got away with brutality. I just can't believe it! Life is...

Wimby day six.

Francesca Schiovonne, Robin Soderling, Gael Monfils and David Nabalndian all said adios to the London lawns yesterday. But match of the day was the one between Marcus Baghdatis and Novak Djokovic. The crowd on centre court was in frenzy. Definitely a match to remember it was. Captivating, dramatic, funny and top notch! It was unfortunate that, like all matches, it had to come to an end, and one player had to lose, and it was sadly Baghdatis.

Well done Novak Djokovic! This is your time to shine...make sure you shine brightly!

Play resumes Monday the 27th of June.

Wimby day five

The lawns said goodbye to Andy Roddick, Svetlana Kuznetsova, Vera Zvonareva and Andrea Petkovic.

The Williams sisters still in it - still kicking butt - still invincible!

Let's do this girlies!!

Wimby day four.

*Day four at the London lawns saw the Roland Garros reigning champion, Li Na, and the former Wimbledon champ, Lleyton Hewitt, out of the tournament.
*The Williams' Lioness came back from a set down to win her second round match against Miss booby, Simona Halep.
*The Feds express is on a smooth cruise. No problem there.

Wimby day three.

Day three at the affluent lawns was all about Venus Williams and the veteran Kimiko Date Krumm. What a match... Exceptional! Classy! And more...

Wimby day two.

Things get sugary at the tennis lawns in London.
Today we saw the former world number one, Jelena Jankovic, exit the most sought after slam in a most heart-shattering way. I felt her pain, man. I so felt it! The Serb chick can't seem to swing the racket right no matter how much blood and sweat she puts into her efforts these days. Well, I don't know... It's disappointing really.

Anyhow, while Miss Jankovic was wallowing in a muck of defeat, Roger Federer, Maria Sharapova, Lleyton Hewitt and Novak Djokovic celebrated their effortless wins.

It was a great day hampered with great matches. But the most exclusive moment came when Serena Williams, against all odds, surprised both herself and earth with an incredible win after dropping a set in her opening match. Centre court was in raptures. The defending champion was in tears, and I'm sure everyone who watched her hit her final ace cried with her. After everything Serena has been through the past year, after surviving blood clots in her lungs, the universe had doubts about her coming back to the courts. But just like a fighter she is, she fought hard and beat the odds to come back.
I hope she so wins it!!!

Basi tikatambe...

Wimby day one.

Indeed, grass is so much greener at Wimbledon!

The men's world number one, Raphael Nadal, began with the defence of his title today on centre court. He played against Michael Russell of US and won in straight sets. It really was a smooth cruise for the sexy Spaniard.

Venus Williams, the older of the mighty Williams sisters, graced court number two with not only her stylish presence, but also her vixenish attitude. The American wasted no time in pulverising her opponent in a very sore manner that left the crowd shaking heads.
Her sister Serena opens play tomorrow at noon against Aravane Rezai of France. Such a tricky slammer, miss Rezai...but I believe in Serena!

Francesca Schiovonne had one huge scare but managed to find her way back into the match and won it!
Andy Murray also advanced to the second round...

Ayi, basi ndatopa!

WIMBLEDON!

You know when you are so happy you want to cry? Yeah, that; exactly how I'm feeling now.
It's all got everything to do with how much I love Wimbledon - the poshiest slam of the year - that begins tomorrow at noon. I can't wait!
Both Serena and Venus Williams are back with an aim to destroy!

Let's meet tomorrow on that prestigious grass!

Love you all!!

Hard love...

On bank holiday Monday last week, the girls and I had a very interesting, productive heart to heart talk about relationships. It all began with me asking one of the girls who has a Nigerian boyfriend if it were true what they say that "once a woman goes Nigerian she never comes back". The rest of the girls assented to the statement except for one who told us she once went Nigerian but managed to come back. But she said, of course, her coming back wasn't not without a big emotional war...

"What really is it about Nigerian dudes that turn women into potty?" I carried on with my inquisition.
"It's cuz they got big packages..." said one girl. She is married to a white guy but still seeks bedroom satisfaction from Nigerian men.
"Yes they got big packages but they know not how to use them...all they know is fibs fibs fibs," said the girl who once was into Nigerians but came back...

The discussion went on to a point where I learnt that it's not the big packages that make these men from Western Africa popular with women but their incredible abilities to fib. And it seems most of us women, like Rihanna, love being lied to. I have no idea why, but it's a shame.

From there we headed on to a more delicate subject of men who hit their women. All the girls except me agreed on a desperate fact that "when a man hits you it means he loves you". What RUBBISH!!! Men who hit their wives are nothing but useless, low self-esteemed, low-life cowards. I said as much to my buddies and they weren't impressed.
One of them who is a party animal told us her husband beats her up every time she comes back from an outing. I asked her why she takes all the abuse, and she said it's because she knows she's the one who is wrong and deserves the beatings. And I was totally appalled! Seriously, I thought the days when women took that kind of crap from men went with the dinosaurs... But Alas...
I told the girls exactly that and they all accused me of living in my own bubble. One of them told me point blank that if I haven't been hit by a man it means I haven't been loved enough.
Really et truly...

The more things change the more they stay the same indeed! It's disheartening to know that there are still some women out there who are willing to be hit and lied to in the name of love.

Eight words for my blog today: Andy Murray will never win a Grand Slam!

Kindle trouble.

My sincere apologies to all who purchased a kindle version of Insanity Resides on Facebook which was hampered with unforgivable typing heartaches due to some uploading error that occurred. I would like to assure you the problem has been taken care of and all is bien now.

Scribbling blockage.

Damn, I hate it when I really want to write but my mind refuses to budge with information! I'm working on my second novel and so far so bad..lol.
Tennis is my destruction. Ever since French Open began my scribbling demon has gone to sleep again. I can't seem to shake it awake...

Delicious matches today. Roger Federer vs Gael Monfils, Marion Bartoli vs Svetlana Kutsnezova...
Lero ndichita kukhwekhwelezedwa from the chair.

Queen "B"!

To my husband; honourable Tichatonga "Mophead" Dauramanzi, and all other bitter creatures of God residing here on earth who love to hate Beyonce, this is what I wanna say to you: No amount of loath is going to stop the bootylicious queen from reigning. She is here to make your eyes pop out of their sockets with awe. More than a decade in the rotten music industry and Beyonce still has the world by the adam's apple. Squeezing the life of it with her awesomeness. She is the best the entertainment industry has ever managed to produce - of course after yours truly and her late cousin Wacko Jacko...lol. Ok, jokes and exaggeration aside, Beyonce is one of the biggest talents ever bred. I wouldn't say she has the most prolific voice, or that she possesses the most unbelievable dance moves, no. The thing about her that makes her stand out from most brilliant artists is the undeniable fact that she gives everything she does her million percent best. Beyonce delivers the goods...
Those of you who watched American Idol finale last night, bitterness and "hetaration" aside, can agree with me on this one. I was blown off my "knickers" once again! Beyonce's pyrotechnical performances have always done that to me. They leave me in a trance of blissful nudity. Even though I don't exactly fancy the new hit "one plus one", but watching Beyonce on that glamorous stage giving it her all, seeing the raw emotions visibly written on her beautiful face changed my mind completely.
And the booty shake with the top ten girls...wow, that was classic! Brief and sweet!!

I absolutely love Beyonce!

*******

My husband and I had the weirdest convo ever whilst watching American Idol last night.

Hubby: you know what, even though everyone thinks J.Lo is beautiful, I've never actually fancied her.
Me: well...I don't know...different men fancy different women...

(J.Lo comes on stage wearing practically nothing to do the most weird booty shake)

Me: damn, is she even wearing any underwear?
Hubby: (without taking his eyes off the tv) no it's their culture...
Me: not to clad in an underwear?
Hubby: I don't know, what did you say???

Men... I surrender!

*****

All Manchester United fans, get ready for a great whipping this evening. My only wish is for Wayne Rooney to get his hamstring permanently torn...lol

*****
Casualties at Roland Garros. The women's top ten players are being toppled just like that. Yesterday we lost Caroline Wozniack - the world number one. We also lost Sam Stosur, last year's finalist. Women's tennis is dead! I blame Richard and Oracene Williams for not having produced more offsprings after Serena.

Casualties...

What, Kim Clijsters out of the French Open in the second round? FLABBERGASTATION is the word! How in hell did that happen? Damn man, I had put a few of my hard-earned bucks on the Belgian yummy mummy to win it. I'm not at all smiling.

Mxiii!!!

Slamming it in French style!

The second tennis Grand Slam of the year is so on in Paris - the city of love.
The French Open, popularly known as Roland Garros, is the one slam that has eluded a good number of great players. I'm not entirely sure what exactly it is that makes this particular slam so elusive.
Is it because it takes place on clay where it's slippery and players found it diffult to manoeuvre? Or perhaps the balls don't bounce that effectively there? Well, I don't know. Maybe the whole slam is just elusive:)

First week is going just as I had dreamt it would go. Except for Rafa Nadal who almost succumbed to defeat this afternoon in his match against John Isner of United States. For the first time the king of clay was taken into a fifth set in the first round at Roland Garros. I could not believe what my eyes were seeing. Nadal took the first set with an easy 6 - 4 score. He was 5 -3 ahead in the second set when the American broke his serve and forced Nadal into a tense tie break. Third set pretty went the same way with Isner claiming yet another tie break win. But Nadal realised the potential of first round casualty and woke up in the fourth set. He was invincible from there on till the last point.
Maria Sharapova had a smooth first round winning 6 - 2, 6 - 0. Kim Clijsters, Francesca Schiovone (the defending champion) and Caroline Wozniack all cruised into the second round.

Let's watch on...

The End?

What is this nonsense I'm hearing about the world demising on the 21st of this month?
Well, I won't allow that to happen...not before Wimbledon! If the world really wants to fuck off then it can do exactly that after the glamorous tennis tournament...I won't give a damn what happens after that.

INSANITY RESIDES ON FACEBOOK now available on Amazon kindle! Grab your copy and let's take over the universe together... Remember it's one character at a time:)

NEW BOOK NOW AVAILABLE!

You can order it from: http://whttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
ww.lulu.com/product/book-paperback/insanity-resides-on-facebook/15688449 (search for "Insanity Resides on Facebook" when you get into the lulu web)
Book will be available on Amazon and all other retail bookstores on the 12th of June 2011.

It's over when it's over!

The softest tissues of my heart have been galled raw by Chelsea's 2 - 1 defeat at the Old Traffords yesterday! Now it's all over for my team. The title has been snatched away from them. So damn crappy! I'm not functioning properly today. Actually, I'm at my lowest level of unhappiness. Mxiii!

you may say it's just football, but it still hurts! Really bad!!

#Chelsea = #shupit!

But inspite of this bleakness in my soul, at least I know I can still laugh at Arsenal for being the greatest losers ever! Six years of no title is just criminal!

Rest in Eternal Peace Francina Sagawa!

Death may be as natural as birth, but you can never get used to it no matter how many times it strikes.

Today is the saddest day I've had in years. One of my best friends from Secondary school passed away last week. The sadness is overwhelming.

Here is to you Dear Frannie: I still believe the dead can see, hear and feel us wherever they go. I'm hoping they can read too...

There we were,
two terrified young girls at a new school,
The fear in us raw and palpable,
we couldn't fool no fool.
There we were,
trying our best to act cool,
When we in fact had no clue,
about the rules...

Panali kumenya ma 90,
panali wambale,
Panali khatcha,
panali maina onga nyawani, bongwe, udzu ndi ena otere...

It was cruel,
but still on our feet we stood.
Ma 90 tinamenya with pride,
plates we carried with our heads held high,
kukhatchidwa tinakhatchidwa, but the pain we swallowed.
Ma bongwe, ma nyawani, we responded to the terms with smiles on our young faces.
It was through the hardships that the bonds of our friendship were tightened.

Till Forever Frannie!

Smiley.

Ready to take over the galaxy!

Traitor!

You carry them for nine months, they give you the shittiest morning sickness, you see flames pushing them out... And when they're out, they make sure you never sleep again... Then a few years later, they lose a few teeth and tell you they no longer want to support Chelsea - your favourite football club... They want to go to Manchester United - all in the name of Wayne Rooney... EPIC BETRAYAL!


El clasico? Nah!!! El nino should be the term used to describe this battle that normally takes place between Real Madrid and Barcelona - World war 5! It took place at Wembley stadium last night. The two Spanish teams came face to face for the first leg of the European champions league semi-final. Mwazi wachucha, mafupa anali gwebedegwebede!
Barcelona (one of my friends calls this team a footie punishment)shone brighter with a 2-0 win than their opponents to their dismay.
I think when the two rivals meet again next week for the final leg wina wamoyo adzatisiya ndithu.

untitled.

I don't know what insults my eardrums more; hubby faking an Irish accent, or him singing?
Gosh, I said I do to an irritant! LOL.

XXX

I didn't watch that much football today. I hear Chelsea unleashed it's mojo against West Brom and won 3 -1. It makes me wonder why they couldn't play that impressively last tuesday at Old Trafford.

This is what I thought of today's matches:
*Manchester derby = rubbish.
*El clasico = rubbish
I can not seem to make up my mind which of the four teams I despise the most. Manchester United makes my heart sore with annoyance, Manchester City gives me suicidal thoughts, Real Madrid gives me an urge to go to the loo and Barcelona is just my nightmare. BIG DILEMMA!

Umoyo

Life is a grumpy goat, we all know.
Let us just ignore it and party...

Now I'm ready to talk...

Football is cruel!
Chelsea may have been booted out of the Champions league, but my love for the club hasn't at all altered. I'm still firmly behind my blue hunks. In defeat and in triumph, right?

Manchester United = #shupit
Wayne Rooney = #shupit

*Ancelott = #shupit for putting Drogba on the bench in the first half of the match.

Orama - his six year journey into life!

The boy turns six!


Happy sixth Birthday.


More teeth disappear.


First day at School. Four years old.
Three years old.
First days at play school.
First little brother
The most "gorgeousest" first kiss.
First moments with nana.
First birthday cake.
First teddy. He still has it.
The most prestigous first step!
First Christmas with mum.
First tooth.
Six months.
Three months old. With dear dad.
Five days old
His hospital card.
First bottle feed.
First day on earth.
Where it all began. Inside my womb.