OK, one FINAL one for the road. I promise.

The look on Jeff Koinange’s face in this particular screenshot is just priceless.

I’ve had my share of 411 fraud letters but this one takes the biscuit.

It is reproduced here in full with all the grammar and typos intact

US DEPARTMENT OF TREASURY

Thanks
Respectfully,
Mr. Timothy Geithner.

Some months ago while watching one of the innumerable series on TV I reached a conclusion that startled even myself.

"This is complete and utter bullshit."

One hour after watching the series I did an audit of how exactly I had benefited and came away with a net loss on the balance sheet, as I had lost an hour of my valuable time and gained absolutely nothing.

As time progressed that echo became an old friend while watching credits scrolling and I started to ponder and reflect: is there any value that many of the TV programs add?

Now, I am not going to say that we should be watching documentaries of isotopic uranium and nuclear fission 24 hours a day, but I KNOW for a fact that there has to be a line between entertainment and nonsense.

The fact of the matter is that we are being flooded with mind numbing fare masquerading as television programming that is slowly but surely doing its bit hand over fist to reduce us to a crowd of balling simpletons.

Look for instance to the proliferation of so called ‘reality series’. One is amazed at their sheer number. Ranging from isolation in remote places (Survivor), to job interviews (The Apprentice) to Cooking (Top Chef) and ultimately the nails across the blackboard, the ‘dating’ (The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, et al). Not to mention the amorphous Big Brother. There are undoubtedly a dozen other of these mind numbing fare i get a headache trying to think of others.

I won’t dignify soaps by addressing them here.

As if they were not enough, there are spin-offs of the same. So there is The Apprentice, the Apprentice UK and Celebrity Apprentice, all of which consume 40-50 minutes of viewing time.

Two years ago in the course of conversation my mother asked me why I watched Big Brother. I can’t remember exactly what I answered but I certainly remember floundering for several seconds trying to find an answer.

Last year I asked myself thus: Big Brother is a program about 20+ people in a house. Do I have 96 minutes, let alone 96 days to keep track of these people who I don’t know from Adam? The answer will come as no surprise and I spend those 96 days in blissful ignorance of the events in the house. I fondly believe I am not worse off.

This Saturday I watched a promotion of a Bachelor type program whose twist was the Bachelor was to select his partner specifically from a series of plus sized women. Er. Yes.

I unfortunately watched one episode of The Apprentice Martha Stewart where the challenge was to design and cook some sort of soup.

How this got approved, much less aired leaves one speechless. I fell into a coma and came to after 48 hours as my brain protested the abuse.

The novelty of series has worn off as well. It is a foregone conclusion that there will always be 5 or so twists of the tale in every episode of Lost.

You no longer need to watch 24 to know that Jack Bauer will kill everybody. Terrorists, bosses, colleagues, criminals.

Not only will there will always be a new quest in Heroes, but at the end everyone will probably either  turn out to have been bad guys all along or related.

I stopped watching Prison Break when after 4 or so series the bloody fellows were still in prison

Are you noticing even after 7 or 8 seasons it’s the same stuff? Absolutely nothing new! Same plots. Same plot devices. And these were for the interesting series. What about absolute corkers like this one? I got a headache just watching the synopsis.

Hollywood has realized that like sheep we’ll watch whatever muppetry they shove down our throats and so were are treated to a constellation of nonsense that leave us unable to mentally hit the water if we fell out of a boat.

We are not spared when it comes to movies.

It seems 9 out of every 10 movies are ‘romantic comedies’ that are neither romantic nor funny. If yon managed to finish watching All About Steve with Sandra Bullock you know what I mean.

Of the remaining 10% of movies, half of these are POORLY, and I do mean poorly, executed remakes of classics. Transformers: Revenge Of The Fallen I’m looking at you! And if anyone watched the original Pink Panther with Peter Sellers, the monstrosity that Steve Martin poorly made with Beyonce, (BEYONCE for Goodness’ sake)! will be quite apparent. And the less said about G.I. Joe the better.

I have simply decided to be more discerning of what I watch. Currently the only series I find worth watching are

Spartacus: Blood & Sand – Gripping stuff. Story, cinematography

Hustle – Geniuses are writing this

Leverage – Not a bad effort at all at imitating Hustle, but the black guy’s comments are just too cliche

Dexter – A bit too dark for many. Definitely an acquired taste.

Top Gear – No explanation necessary

Otherwise I spend my time on History, Discovery Channel & BBC Knowledge.

As a result of these cuts I have noticed availability of time to do other things an increase in my IQ!

Moral: Conserve your few remaining brain cells. Mind what you watch!

PIC OF THE DAY

Some institutions, such as the female purse, the female facilities and the establishment where the female purchases what we shall call delicate attire are out of bounds to the male of the gender.

Attempts to to access these Level 1 areas by the male invariably leads to trouble. I know of two fellows who foolishly attempted to gain access to the women’s facilities at I&M Building. We are yet to hear of them again.

Some years back I was given the opportunity to look into a female handbag. Immediately classifying the female that made this offer as an enemy of the State bent on my destruction and complete annihilation I did not stop running till several kilometers away.

But the Lord works in mysterious ways and I found myself in action in an establishment that sells women’s underwear. How and why I got there are not relevant to the matter at hand. Suffice it to say I took advantage of the opportunity and attempted to gather intelligence.

It was a matter of moments to be mystified, flabbergasted and flummoxed at some of the things I saw.

I could ask to know

1. What Nippless Covers are, and if there are covers for Nipps
2. What secrets are covered by Secret Covers, and why they necessitate flashing

But I won’t. Some things like whatever happens in Lost, are best left undiscovered.

Nakumatt are not kidding when they say "You need it? We got it".

Was taking the lovely wife shopping and was amazed to find this offered for sale on the shelves

Just what on earth are those?

According to google analytics, some of you are in the process of looking for some interesting things before you land here

Yikes!!

Kibaki: Bloody bure! So, Raila, we’re going to that place, yes, that one, not the other one. That one. No, not THAT one. That one. To plant those things. With the trunks.
Raila: Elephants?
Kibaki: Yes. No. What was the question again?
Wekesa: To the Mau. To plant trees
Kibaki: Yes, that one
Raila: For shizzle my nizzle
Kibaki: (Sotto voice) Psyche!!!
Raila: (Suspiciously) What was that?
Kibaki: Pink elephants are riding my bicycle.
Mwakwere: Is the Mau in coast?
Ruto: Is this meeting catered? I want some roasted maize
Raila: What’s this about Al Faisal?
Kajwang: Way ahead of you there. We intend to deport him. We can’t just teleport him
Mwakwere: I can help you there. Jamaica is no in coast (is it?) but I know the country code 1-876
Kimunya: Err … therefore
Kenneth: You probably want to deport him to Libya.
Mwakwere: With a country code you can teleport anywhere in the world using any network. I thought everyone knew that?
[Stunned silence]
Mwiria: Anyway, moving on!
Kiraitu: Yes. It will be like raping a woman who is already wirring. Pff. Pffft. Grekkjjjwe! hHHerewr7688! ^&*
Charity: (Shouting) This is clearly in disorder. I mean not in order!
Kalonzo: Stop talking before me! Can’t you see I’m handsome?
Wetangula: People please. Now, Mwakwere, you and your ferries are a cause for concern-
Mwakwere: (Shouting) What do you mean me and my fairies? What have you heard?
Raila: (Holding head) He means those big boats that go chuff chuff chuff in the water
Mwakwere: Oh
Kibaki: Order gentlemen. The Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria set off. Can we all be focused? Uranium 238.
Ongeri: If I may school my learned friends …
Kajwang: Has anyone noticed Ongeri has new shoes?
Ongeri: (Irritably) There is no connection between my new shoes and missing school funds!
Saitoti: Garment is firmly in control with the Al Faisal situation
Nyongo: Garment? Was a ministry of fabrics and attire created overnight? The word is government. GOVERNMENT
Saitoti: (Puzzled) But that’s what I said. Garment.
Nyong: Government
Saitoti: Garment
Nyongo: GOVERNMENT
Saitoti: Garment
Nyongo: Go-
Saitoti: Go-
Nyongo: ver-
Saitoti: ver-
Nyongo: ment
Saitoti: ment
Nyongo: Government
Saitoti: Garment
[Collective Groan]
Kalonzo: I hear Kijana Wamalwa’s brother wants to be President
Wetangula: (Standing) Yes. In fact so do I!
Kalonzo: (Modestly) But i am the most handsome here! And i even take care of my hair. Hilary Clinton wanted to copy my hairstyle but I said no.
Oburu: Treasury is getting tired of buying mirrors for the office of the vice president.
Kenneth: Some of us are diversifying our income by setting up a small business with green, green grass
Oburu: That is a lie. I never inhaled!
Mwakwere: Do people from coast inhale?
Michuki: I shall amend the law on pollution shortly to include you and Kalonzo!
[Esther Murigi walks in. A loud wolf whistle pierces the air]
Kalonzo: (Dashes to the nearest mike) I’mma let you finish but Kalonzo is one of the most handsome people of all time
Kibaki: Can we wrap this up? Wrestling is about to start on TV
Mwakwere: Are there TVs in coast?
Michuki: Some of you here are not taking the environment seriously. I’m informed reliably that Poghisio even has ducks in his swimming pool?
Pogishio: Is it a crime? I like ducks. They taste like chicken
Muthaura: On a point of order I would request all ministers to collect their lunch passes from the office on the mezzanine floor -
Ruto: Did someone say maize?
Kiunjuri: Let me remind Professor Ongeri we have not forgotten the plight of tishas …
Nyongo: Who?
Kiunjuri: Tishas
Kenneth: He means teachers I think
Kalonzo: (Singing) Got honey,
and you know it,
take it out of your pocket and eat it and eat it,
this way, and that way
Marende: Order! If a member is feeling sufficiently philanthropic to sing T-Pain tunelessly, let him notify the house
Kalonzo: But i’m handsome!
Haji: I’d like to challenge Saitoti to explain why Somalis are being harassed
Oburu: Why? Are you Somali?
Haji: (Indigantly) No! Of course not. Everyone knows I’m right handed
Wekesa: Has anyone seen my strawberr? I placed a call a few minutes ago and I can’t find it
Kenneth: You mean blackberry?
Wekesa: No. My phone is not one of those ripoffs. It’s a Strawberry. I bought it after the Samsing was stolen
Alfred Mutua: I … er … have some VCDs i’m selling in the car if anyone is interested?
Odinga: Brilliant. Do you have Lion King?
Alfred Mutua: Er … that’s not quite what i have. I was thinking more local content …
Kibaki: Professional View? News?
Alfred Mutua: Er … even more local … er … more like local … er … talent … ha ha … er … loal performers engaged in … er … performances
Mwakwere: (Quickly) Do you take MPesa?

PIC OF THE DAY

OLD GOLD

• Cabinet Tales I
• Cabinet Tales II
• Cabinet Tales III
• Cabinet Tales IV
• Cabinet Tales V

Due to some misunderstanding over instructions to do with apples, under the influence of a snake, man and woman have been consigned to a lifetime of toil. This has changed from hard days of ploughing through soil at the field to hard days of ploughing through the in tray.

Whichever Good Book you follow, be it The Bible, The Quran, The Talmud or The Hobbit, all of them have some reference to man being compelled to work hard if he expected to eat.

In this regard, a powerful ally exists in the form of the good lady whose official job position and KPIs have some references to her making tea for the consumption of the general office populace. In Nairobi, any tea lady worth her salt will diversify her portfolio and in no time will have a thriving business supplying captains of industry and go-getters with biscuits, ground nuts, samosas, bread, cake and other assorted snacks.

But despite her best efforts, after 11 o’clock the effect of her wares begins to wear out, and the working nation becomes listless and distracted, feeling an acute sense of something missing amidships. This hollow feeling intensifies and at 12:30 the weakest in the herd mumble something about stepping out for a quiet smoke or stretch of the legs and this begins the stampede for afternoon sustenance, better known as lunch.

When it comes to lunch, the primary deciding factor is the fiscal resources that can be commanded. Most of us are surprised and horrified that after what seems like ten minutes since the salary appeared at the bank, extra month has been tacked on to the salary.

As a matter of fact, as a general rule, by the middle of the second week proprietors of eating establishments with brick walls and running water nervously lick their lips in apprehension as lunch hour approaches.

After zealously reducing one’s salary to manageable levels (too much unfortunately) the eating establishment of choice is rather off the beaten path, literally and otherwise. Invariably this is a building constructed with corrugated iron sheets smelling powerfully of smoke. From inside come the happy shouts of comrades exchanging stories and grunts of effort from others with no time for anything but their meal. From outside carbon credits are consumed ferociously using roaring firewood and charcoal fires.

At the door there will be an ingenious arrangement consisting of a steel drum or barrel full of water suspended from a nail in the wall with a tap in the bottom. This novel arrangement serves as the plumbing for washing one’s hands.

The range of dishes lacks the variety to necessitate customer menus. The menu is therefore invariably written on a blackboard with the prices alongside. At a glance, the gourmet having effected an entry can adjust his tastes to his budget.

Among the choices are beef, chicken, liver and fish. The staple food, ugali, is the principal accompaniment. Generally, you can have your beef, chicken, liver or fish with anything, as long as it is ugali. I’m reminded of the time I asked a waitress for rice and she gave a gasp of surprise and retreated to consult with colleagues and ultimately with management.

Once you have reconciled the prices with the contents of your wallet, you shout your order to Maggie, the breathlessly enthusiastic waitress and take a free seat. You will find these places impossibly crowded, but there’s always a free seat somewhere. Generally, these establishments lack the office of the matire’d

Maggie will eventually appear with your meal, languidly arranging you vegetables with her bare hand as she approaches, hailing you with a happy shout. In a stroke of genius, to avoid the hassle of breakages, all the crockery and cutlery is stainless steel. She will deposit your meal on the table, sweep the leftovers from said table with bare hand onto a tray and move your plate in front of you, her thumb dipping into the stew in the process.

Those partial to fish will watch through the window as Omosh, the beefy man tasked with frying fish, goes about his work with gusto directly outside the establishment. Clad in vest, shorts and tyre sandals, the happy whistle of a man enjoying his work whooshing from his pursed lips, Omosh will twirl the fish slice like an orchestra conductor, sweat dripping off his face and arms and onto the soil and fish.

Omosh will then perform the task that he has been doing for eons and toss the ready fish through the window to be caught deftly by waiting waitresses on a steel plate. She will then grab a handful of vegetables from a large bowl, deftly deposit it next to the fish and then grab a dish of ugali and proceeded to a customer. Once in a while gravity may interfere with the system and a fish will come to earth. It’s best not to know where this fish ends up, but one is advised to keep both eyes open from order to delivery.

“Maggie”, I said to her one day. “There’s a fly in my soup”. Maggie laughed happily, clapped me heavily in the back leaving a large, oily and fishy hand print and departed, shaking her head and wagging her finger at me.

Needless to say the food is delicious. Gordon Ramsay and Jamie Oliver would have a rough time trying to appease us connoisseurs. You will lick your fingers, lick your lips and finally lick the bowl. Compliments to the chef are expressed by hailing Omosh loudly from his cooking station with thumbs up. Omosh will wipe his brow with the back of his hand and smile and as a bead of sweat drips from the tip of his nose into the sizzling oil, he will smile happily.