These buggers have to be on crack! They must be. How else do you explain an institution whose own audit finds that most of their staff is incompetent receiving ISO certification? Crack! What criteria, pray tell, is used to give this most esteemed certification? Quality of the product and/or service delivery? Or perhaps the quality of the management and staff? Perhaps its the efficiency of the company, or maybe the satisfaction of its customers? Or could it be that someone just managed to fill out the form correctly? Even the MD of KeBS, not KBS, KeBS, is quoted as wondering ‘How now?’ All I’m saying is an entire city cannot be wrong, can it? Crack babies, the whole lot of them.
That said, Kudos Phillip! How about I buy you a busaa or two at my now flooded local to celebrate? Its flooded because the storm drain hasn’t been cleared in so long its now a garden, thus the runoff flows straight into the shack, forcing us to put our feet up on empty crates as we unwind. Because I like you, I’ll carry a spare set of gumboots for you, but only because I like you. Don’t worry about finding the joint, it’s just off the formerly tarmac road your geniuses came and dug up last month, just before the rains, so they could patch up potholes that weren’t really there. I might be a bit late though, because I’ll be stuck in traffic on Uhuru Highway, this as the traffic cops step in to replace the temperamental lights (those that work once a year) and manage traffic in their own more scientific manner: 1 one thousand, 2 one thousand, 3 one thousand… And when you get there, try not to park on what’s left of the road outside, not unless you want to get picked up, for loitering, by your own extortion gang, sorry, ‘security apparatus’, as you stand there fumbling with your door.
Once inside, we shall sit round a candle and share a story or two, because there shall be no power, because the tree your people said Maish needs a permit to cut down finally fell on a line last week, during the rain storm you see, and Kenya Power (no longer lighting) can’t seem to find the time to get round to sorting me and mine out. If you do get there before I do, whatever you do, do not order water. There’s none from the tap, but you already know that, and the bottled one is from a company that only recently received ISO certification, and you know about that too, don’t you? And whatever you do, don’t tell the barman you’re running for governor, not unless you want to be sodomised with a broom handle in the back room, next to the crates. Nothing personal you understand, it’s just that you and yours shaft us so often, and so well, that if and when we get the chance to return the favour, well, we just can’t help ourselves.
I didn’t think I would ever live to say this, but can we please have John back? Anything is better than this charade of inefficiency. ISO certified? Really?
On a unhappier note, it has been prophesied that Kenyans are in for hard times. No really, there’s a prophetess who has seen the future, and she sees us suffering. Don’t believe her? Check out her credentials. She predicted a big minister would lose his job, to which the journalist said, ‘him, never!’, this when he interviewed said prophetess the first time, a couple of months back. Then the big man was not just fired but demoted, and now the bugger is all, ‘whoa, deep!’ She predicted the death of two big men, and lo and behold, two geriatric geezers keeled over. Again the bugger is all, ‘prophetic man!’, this said as he no doubt passed the blunt around. Then the prophetess says she knows who our next president will be, but she won’t tell us, all she’ll tell us is that he’ll have a difficult race to state house. Te de de de… That’s suspense music by the way.
Now I’m a complete sceptic, but I’m also a devout conspiracy nut, X-files, Fringe, all that sci-fi, stranger than fiction, the truth is out there nonsense is my cup of tea. I am open to the possibility that some random woman can see the future. Really. Just like I am open to the idea of alternate universes, how else do you explain Kalonzo’s conviction that he could actually be my president one day? That bugger is living in another dimension, his reality and mine are not the same, but that’s a story for another day. What I am not open to, however, is an idiot journalist writing a half-baked piece of swill, with little to no investigation to back up any of the claims made therein, nothing but, ‘that’s some prophetic shit right there…’ Do you these buggers not go to school to learn this crap? Is there no quality control in the print media? Hang on, they’re ISO certified, aren’t they? Figures. The moral of the story is, hard times they are a coming. It has been said, so shall it come to pass. Or not. I’m waiting for those ISO bastards to certify this shit first.
Moving on to even more unhappy matters, the Grevy’s zebra is apparently on the brink of extinction. It’s not enough that loss of habitat and poaching have conspired to reduce the numbers of the sub-species, its own behaviour may be the final nail in its striped coffin. ‘How?’ you ask. Turns out the stallion is ‘territorial and adopts a harem mating system, whereby it does not chase after females but waits for them to be attracted to it, unlike its common cousin. This means it has difficulties finding mates.’ That’s right folks, rather than go out looking for zebras of his own stripe, he shags whatever comes his way, usually his smaller less striped cousins, who are possibly drawn to his large body (apparently Grevy’s are almost twice as large) and fancy coat (their stripes are thinner and they have a white underbelly, very flash). So now his kind is about to become extinct, and all because he’s a bit of a whore, a lazy whore at that. This funga business is an epidemic.
And last but not least, as of May 1st, ‘coffee shops’ in three southern provinces of the Netherlands will begin to implement the ‘weed pass’ law. It’s not what it sounds like, you will not be required to pass it down. No, these geniuses have outlawed the selling of weed to foreigners, and they plan to roll out this brilliant scheme to the rest of the country, including Amsterdam, next year. Apparently, the reason for this most intelligent scheme is to cut down on ‘drug tourists’ (is there any other kind?) from neighbouring countries, basically buggers who drive across the border, stock up, and then go back home. They don’t mind if you smoke it, they just don’t want you to go smoke it at home see, it’s not like you’re a drug dealer or something, are you? If you were hoping to one day cross the ocean and sample international blends, go now.
