By Smitta Smitten

After the horrific events at the "Swaggerific" concerto at KICC, which was otherwise terrific – other than red-thonged dudettes grindin’ their ‘mawezeres’ into jammin’ Jamaicans in the name of ‘daggerin’ – The Smitten decided Nai really is "sin city".

So to get away to someplace else over Easter, in the nayme of ‘Cheee-sus’ but where? Naks was dead, n Naivgas (Naivasha – Vegas) is worse thru Nai durin’ these long public hols; yols, with all the fornication n zegz that goes on in Naivgas! Twas tyme to go ocha, a la, alaholla. Alemluhya, I called da Sharanova, packed me bags, put 30 litas of fetro in da coldma, ‘Clearly Ash Caldina’, n tole the lass we were tollin’ up to Dallas…

great WEATHER

Rolled up Uhuru Highway n past them marathon stork dat sit up on da kanjo lites of side near parliament, channeling wisdom to the likes of Bifwoli Wakoli durin’ august House debates. The Chinese, other than creating Chikens (Chinese-Kenyan) have not only done a nice job laying alongside Museum Hill, but laying on the tarmac. I!

Passed 4 road supplies at dat Oilibya near ABC Place — wunder where all the chudder goes to, now, dat mad Muammar is battle-made in Tripoli – and met ole pal Eliza n former colleague, Kevin Kanyotu, who is now running his own bizna.

On the way out of the city, listened to XFM rockin’ wid da absoolootly cool song (vacancy signs, soul disembarks) but as we disembarked 4fm Nai, we were overtaken by one a those Muranga type motis driven by a feller in cheap leather jale n a ten gallan "Kenny Rogers" cow hat.

Yu mow, those multi coloured sandaks with radio aerials so long, they can catch U-Fm (Ukranian FM) and whose suspensions made from the steel spectacles of mad scientists from Bulgaria? Yuh. Too bad the sandak had the legend "Stamford Bridge" written on it.

We fyammed past Wida Highway Motel. Do old goats still take their dandilionesses to such nondie places over hols like Easter? N saw a bus called "Prezzo". 4 a second, I wonderd if Prezzo has gone the Jaguar way – n into the boo bizness-shizzle – but than realized the bus was actually titled "Mbukinya 4 prezzo". Who the eff-all is Mbukinya, the Smitten wondered? And he wonsta be prezz for which country? I also wonderd if Prezzo will ever make a comeback, whether by chopper or by Mbukinya bus, the way JC did after three days? As they say, the industry misses them. (BTW, I once had a granpa who kuff-d for three days back in 1984…. He still has a rancid stink abt him to this day).

We branched by Limuru tao, which I discovered is the one joint yu’ll never kosa tea asubuhi, mist n’ fyatu fyako on your feet… as Eric Wainana wailed abt "Nchi ya kitu kidogo" on radio.

Princess Guest House, Fair Price shop, giant trees in Guiness trucks (as I sipped on a tanye in da ride) n we was on da road to Narok. The winding canopy, walls of green, scary down excarpment n my Chemical romance on da car radio. Blak parade!

This was real bliss, n swaggerifikness, Kenyan style!

UN types milled around the Geneva observation point. A truck lay upside down near tha escarpment, but some dudes n dudettes were cookin’ shizzle near its fuel tank as cops idled about. With kerosene at nainte-sumethin’ bob. Kiraitus two bob discount never – minding, I’d only be too wirring to suskachwan some fetro too, if I found it leakin’ off the ass of some big tanker…

We pitad a strange ka-church I kumbuka from an old Pulse trip to sumplace (yenyewe, this crew has really cruised the counties) and as Pink’s "Pill" spilled thru the raydeo, **, we pitad Sipemba bar, nile pub, parkside inn n Baraka guest house in Mai Mahiu – where all the pokos go to give guys zegz (n gono to truck drivers)sanjes flush with ngombe, and other misguided types – although I did see a lojo there that looked like a pako of trust cds – completely painted in blue, with logo, (so kina PSI’s Niko Mbugua are still dawnin’ a good jobo proming mupiras after chat).

Avoiding the road to Naivgas, where what happens in Naivgas stays in Naivgas, Clearly rolled over onto a long new beautiful parapara – complete with dust storms off road, soviet union style satellite style T.V dishes, and sanjes catching Esmeralda and other soaps, I suppose. 70 kms to Narok, those little boards every KM – looking like 69, 68, 67,66,65,64,63, so that I thot that by the time we fikad Narok, the town will explode like 3210…bomb! We simamad imara at a neet peti in Narok full of miros, muhindi and zungs off to the Mara. Some Chinese chick mistook me for a waiter, n I was tempted to lay her a ChicKen rait there!!We had a late lunch with the Sharonova, before rolling on and a Nyamira express zoomed passt us. And a VIP in a fuel guzzler, and Kilgoris mathree. And an old Toyo whose passengers in the back seat were four goats, enjoying their last ride, not juaing they were destined to be chinjwad for nyama choma Easter.

TOP CRUISE

Bombing at a sok n 110, we hit Iten-Nyet -Bomet, thena joint called Mulot, and a chuo, Mengit. Do they study meningitis in Mengit? I tried to buy a long (traos) at Flo Fashion shop in Longisa Town, but instead ended up with a yellow jerrican and only lordy longombas and lunjes know why Bomet has a building called Oslo. And why you go slow on the black spot marked with skull and bones as you cross nyongores’ river. Kapisawaret? Was Nyangore a small town or a small town celeb like Deepaks Bracks? We overtook some tuktuk, dikdik, and boda boda, before a mathree called Internet Connection zoomed passt us. Just wished my laptops had speeds like that. In Chebole, we drove polepole and in Tarakwa came across a fourth Ebenezer shop in town. Who is this Ebenezer, why is he in every small town? Some small town tycoon wit dukas all over every county frontier? N is his accent as mangled as Jenga Karumeth??

Scrooge

At Karumeti, yet another Nyamira Express showed us a clean pair of tyres as it sped into the horizon, but by sunset, we was in Sotik, and then after Metamyawa (Mbuvi shd ferform ‘Kwata Kawaya’ there)) Kisii Town, all settled for a soccer game (Arses vs Bolton) where the goons predictably lost – n yet another gunner, this time in Uasin Gishu, had a few nuts come unbolted n jumped from the second floor of a pub. Some Satos, I fear for our Banter…

Everyone has told the Smitten on ‘Mukuru wa Zuckerberg’ that the most happening klub in Kisii is ‘Dallas-y’. (udder-wise I’d planned to go to Rockers, just for the name-of-it), and since I always liked :Dallas" in tee-wee as a toi, n since I’d heard they were doing an MJ-nite there, and since this chicka called Jill Nyaboke of Citizen n a banker dude called Josh Moseti were goin’ Dallas, we joined ‘em. Alas, there was no M.J.-nite on at Dallas – n there woont be until July.

But the deejay at Dallas-y was great, anyway, n I happily hammered vodoski and hit the vividian dance floor. Tellin me=self that if I ever got to go to the you-ess-say, say next year, to see relaz, Dallas n not Vegas, is the city for virtuous vinter virtuosos like me who don’t like vile non-virginal virgos n viragos of non-viscious vicissitude, to go to. (I guess, this wood be a good tyme, too, to recommend ‘V’ to any villain who hasn’t watched it yet… and that’s, the real V-Monologue. In 2013, we must pen the ‘dick dialogues’ as a response, tee hee)

Jill layter managed to get into a Gusii style bout with some dood, n she did bloody his uso with a chupa. Yup, in Gusii land, the partie ain’t a pare till the lady has smacked some jackass with a glass. That being the light point of everthin, twas time for everyone to go swatch, singing at the bak of the cab: " Jack n Josh went up the hill, to get a bucket of slosh – but A.P.s came n ruied the bash, n smitta ran away wit the chang’aa slosh" Blasted like cheap ex=plosives, thaz watt we was…