ONE RANDOM FRIDAY!

My ‘Holier-than-thou’ conscience is busy looking for a one liner pun to kick start my lecture. Hmmmmn,where to start?....There’s a sticky pool of drool on the floor. The whole place is a Crime Scene and it stinks to the high-heavens,this must be where your drunken carcass hit the ground.(Exhibit A) .

“Your ‘onor (to my nagging conscience) I plead guilty of  all charges. I can’t help it, am a sucker for free Booze and Horny chicks,well,who isn’t??I mean,am jus being a real man!…’’ and the trial began…Enter the witnesses; a ring in my head, a chorus of sorts from last night that goes “Chug! Chug! Chug!Chug!’’….Then, my dear beloved nemesis and friendly foe-the bittersweet taste in my mouth of some Tooootally wrong concoction…Aaaaaah,Migraine!

I remember looking into ‘The Barrel of a Gun’(Obviously I can’t tell you I was looking into the opening of a Jug filled with a brownish funny looking mixture).The scent was of cheap booze and the liquid was made of some mysterious unnamed ingredients I hear are even illegal in most of the southern European countries including Amsterdam( Yes,that Stoner heaven that is on my before-death-to-do-list )…And then,Lights Out!...*Total Darkness*… Like I said ‘The Barrel of a Gun’!.

I gather the little remaining shreds of my Ego and Pride, torn to bits by that evil little Devil on my shoulder. Heck,after last night I must be the evil little Devil on the Devil’s shoulders….Juvenile Delinquent!...Am theat guy,yes,that guy my mum tells my friends to stay away from…I try to stand up holding my head in place but it feels like a tennis ball damned to face the wrath and fury of Venus William’s racket.Have you seen the Biceps on that woman?!Poor little tennis ball…L. I tap on my pockets to gather what’s left from the scrambles of last nights expenditures. Drunk me was a Luo jamaa, quite generous given a little Cleavage here and a Pout there, ’’Bartender,sida iko wapi?..nasema wote wapewe…WOTE!!!’’ ….(Exhibit B!)….Your ‘onor am too weak inside,will you please have pity on my poor damned soul??…L

‘’What’s  this?” I stumble upon a ruffle of paper in my jackoh, a note perhaps?? That means at least fifty bob, that could get me home. Yes,home,Mom’s cooking today, Satoh means it’s ingoho, my half Luhya stomach rumbles in anticipation. That,and a few episodes of ‘Family Guy’ should get me back in my normal mental shape for Monday’s lectures. What luck! It’s a hundred bob, that means there’s room for Painkillers and Mints! I take one quick scan around-Vince is lying under the table waiting to hitch a ride…to the morgue perhaps? I stumble over some victims of last night’s tragedy. I think to myself if an Alcoholic Nuclear Bomb went off ,the Radioactivity could cause ‘Multiple Brain Cell Degeneration’ among everyone including the survivors but this Generation??,I don’t think so!...

The music is awesome, the TV works and my phone has Angry Birds and Temple Run and other cool games.Thank Goodness..I’ll be okay…J

I wake Vince up. He lets out a lazy grunt and opens his Blood-red eyes.He gives in to my threats of calling his Mom and I chuckle gleefully. He gets up,dusts himself,looks around, cracks a malevolent grin like a politician watching a You tube Video of himself getting away with Public Funds n goes like…”Last night man was INSAAAANE!’’

“So Neville,what do you have to say for yourself?Is all this worth it?’’ nags my conscience.

“Your ‘onor, am simply too damn young to give a *Censored*’’



-Neville-