In 2013, No More...

 Wasup peeps? I bet you are all having yourself a happy new year. Well, I don’t care. What I know is that the shit hit the fan on my New Years (RIP Granny), but am not letting that dampen my spirits this time round. I don’t exactly have a soft spot for odd years, but 2013; am gonna try and make it my best!

Every Tom, Dick and Harry out there is working hard on making New Year’s resolutions, but we all know it doesn’t take a village witch a black cock (no pun intended) to tell you that those resolutions won’t last a week. I’ve been a victim of these New Year pledges craze before, and am not going down that road again. In the past I have made resolutions that lasted for such a short period that they would make Mudavadi’s marriage to Uhuru seem like a lifetime.  

No, am wiser now. This year I have decided to survive on autopilot. Let the gods lead me wherever they want to, hakuna matata. However, there’s a list of habits I’d like to do away with this year:

1. GAGNAM STYLE.

Seriously, why are people so obsessed with these silly equine boogie moves? Let musicians like Psy remain in 2012. I mean, there are cooler ways to shake a leg than jumping around like a retarded horse. For your information, we will be remembered as a generation who thought a fat Korean pretending to ride a horse was entertaining enough to look at. That isn’t something that anyone worth his salt would be proud of, is it? Very distressing. :( 

2. PLACING BITCHES OVER MONEY.

Like I had either of the two in 2012

3. GLEE, TWILIGHT, JUSTIN, ET AL

Ok, brothers, I admit that I have found myself nodding to Beiber’s song at a small number of unfortunate times. But don’t lynch me or revoke my membership to the males’ club just yet, give me a chance to apologise first. I also apologise for watching Glee, and listening to some fags called One Direction. Apology accepted? No?

If it would help, let me tell you that I deeply regret my transgression. In fact, I have actually contemplated committing suicide the few times I have found myself listening to Beiber. The only thing that held me back was the fact that I was undecided whether “I caught myself listening to Justin” should come at the beginning or at the end of a suicide note.

Am told that you can accurately determine how straight or cooked a dude is by the number of Beiber songs contained in his ipod. Well, for starters, I don’t even own an ipod, so I believe am as straight as an arrow.

Oh,. And before I forget, a moment of silence for my pal who paid 800 bob to watch Twilight.

4. CARING ABOUT PEOPLE WHO ONLY CARE ABOUT THEMSELVES.

In 2012, I had scores and scores of friends. Now that I am a year wiser, I have come to discover that some people would call you a friend when all is well, but when darkness sets in, they flee just like shadows.

At times I sacrificed so much for a friend that I would get myself into a precarious situation. But when my turn of need comes, yule niliyemdhamini kua rafiki wa kufa kuzikana anaadimika kama maziwa ya kuku, na kuniacha nikitepetea na kuyumbayumba katika janga la huzuni na biwi la machozi peke yangu.

A word of advice: The fewer friends you got, the less shit you get to deal with. You all have heard that it is better to have an 1000-bob note than twenty fifty bob notes.

But amid these wolves in sheepskins, there were some diamonds in the rough thank I must give thanks to. Friends like Felix, Job, Mabel, Delilah, Mercy, Sebastian, Dyner, Del, Nancy… (The list is long) truly made my 2012 worth it; and I’d like to grow our friendship come 2013.

5. MISSING PEOPLE WHO DON’T MISS ME

“Hi”

“Hi. Sema Jones, Aki I’ve missed you….!”

*Two months later*

“Hi”

“Hi. Sema Jones, Aki I’ve missed you….!”

Bullshit! If you actually miss me, why am I always the one hitting you up?

This year it’s gonna be different! You ignore me, I ignore you. Simple. With only 200 texts per day, it would be barmy to keep a phonebook a phonebook the size of Encyclopedia Britannica. Would you do me a favour? Aki please delete my number if we haven’t spoken to each other for three months.

6. TEXTERS FROM HELL.

What’s worse than your pal not hitting you up for 3 months? Read on and you’ll find the answer.

“K”. O, how I hate that reply! It drives me nuts! You’d rather smack me on my face with a foko-jembe than reply to my text with a K. What do people do with all the time they save by writing K instead of okay? The answer to that question I don’t know, but what I do know for sure is that I am capable of punching you in the face via sms if you potassium me. Do I look like I’ve got 19 protons to you?

This goes to all those people who are intense on clogging my inbox with those odious generic forwards. Can I tell you a secret? Let me not spill the beans coz if I do, no one will text me for the rest of the year.

There’s a special corner in hell reserved for all those dorky characters who reply to my long from-the-deepest-part-of-my-heart texts with one word. I bet you didn’t know that.

It’s okay (in fact it’s cool) when a girl who probably got kicked out of kindergarten mistakes the letter S for X and thus sends stuff like “Xaxa”, “Xawa”, “Xalama”, et cetera. But it is really discombobulating when you receive such a text from a dude. In my opinion, dudes who put X in place of S also wear pink g-strings and take pictures of themselves in front of the bathroom mirror. Not sexy at all.

Let’s not forget those people who rape our inbox with poor grammar.

Oh, and this goes to that girl who refers to me as “Deer Sweathut” (sic) with admirable alacrity. Pliz don’t text me in 2013. In fact, don’t text me until you can afford a dictionary.

7. NO MORE MISSING MY PERIODS.

I know this is very flabbergasting to all of you with whore-able minds. Relax, because Jones hasn’t been pregnant. By period, I mean class. Yaani, I will attend most, if not all of my lessons in 2013.

In 2012 I had a wrong perception that Campus is the place where people go to make merry, as such I attended less than 10% of my classes and took my studies like a gag. Anyone would tell you engineering isn’t a walk in the park, so am gonna pull up my socks come 2013.

8. GOODBYE PROCRASTINATION

I got a confession. Am the type of a guy who would rather go out and buy a new pair of socks every morning than do the laundry. Yap, am that lazy. When did I blog last? Only God knows. My ardent followers would tell you it takes a period longer than the time between two general elections before I revisit my blog again. But come twenty thirteen, am trading away my lethargy. In fact, I plan to... (I’ll tell you about that later).

9. KIBAO ONCE IN A BLUEMOON? NOT ME

Remember back in class five when we all vowed never to touch alcohol in our entire lives? Well, Jowal Jones, aka Lukorides, is still living in those innocent days.

Bluemoon Vodka? Nkt! How does one stoop so low? Bluemoon is not fit for you. In fact, it’s not fit for any human being’s consumption. There exists better stuff than Bluemoon. In my opinion, you better let your throat get drier than #ChapatiZaAkinaAdrian (Feel free to ask a tweep) than irrigate your throat with Bluemoon. I haven’t had a chance of testing Satan’s urine yet, but I believe it tastes better than Bluemoon.

My pals tell me they take Bluemoon because it’s the only beer they can afford other than chang’aa and busaa. But me thinks being skint is not an acceptable excuse. I’d let a broke guy wear a rubber-band on his hand in place of a bracelet, but I’ll never let him get away with drinking Bluemoon.

What I’m saying is, in 2013; catch me dead inebriating myself with such cheap liquor. Given a choice, I’d happily imbibe a gallon of paraffin than take a shot of Bluemoon. Felix, take my word on this: I cross my heart and hope to be smacked on the forehead with a foko-jembe if I ever insert Bluemoon into my system this year. It’s not like am canvassing for my liver to grab the 2013 employee of the year award or something. I’ve discovered cooler ways to roast your liver, like setting yourself on fire.

10. NO MORE PLOT-LESS FRIDAYS

2012 just wasn’t my year. The gods of financial prosperity refused to smile at my direction. This was the year whereby I was so broke that mice used to point fingers at me and laugh and laugh and laugh. Heck! Even ringworms (read ugonjwa wa mashillingi) gave ma a cold shoulder. As such, I slept-in most Friday nights. Only a person whose senses had taken a leave would invite me to a party, as no one loves broke fellows.

But if my psychic intuition is anything to go by, 2013 is the year of prosperity. 2013 is the year when it’s going to rain paper. So I have made a solemn vow that Friday nights will never find me in my hostel. I shall have to somewhere; anywhere. Even if it’s Suguta Valley or Baragoi. Am gonna party like it’s 3012 , sampling all the finer things in life. Stop! Wait a minute… Did I just quote Justin Beiber?

11. GIVING CUPID A CHANCE

Sniff! What is that smell? Are they Valentines’ Roses?  Do you imply to tell me that Jones is in love?

No! No! No! This can’t be true. You mean Jones, the President and Commander-in-Chief of #Teamforeveralone, has finally started catching feelings even after what he wrote last time? (If you missed last time’s blogpost, click here)

Whether I’ve finally decided to turn my back on #Teamforeveralone is an issue I’m working on, and I’ll be putting it up for on this blog in a few days. Watch this space.

Don’t want to miss a post? Y u no follow me on Twitter (@jlukorides) and Facebook (Jowal Jones) by clicking here and here respectively? You may as well leave a comment in the comment box below, or go an extra mile by sharing this post with your friends on your timeline. Thanks. Am wishing you all a happy and Blessed 2013. But above all, am wishing you love.

Why Relationships aren't my thing

I know it’s too many times that I may cry wolf, but this time I am sincere. I would like to apologize to all my readers for being lazy and not posting stuff as promised. Am I forgiven? Thanx :)

Now, before you find out why yours truly does not believe in matrimony, pliz read today’s dullsville section, will you?

LET"S TALK ABOUT SEX!

Admit it: The title really caught your attention, didn’t it? But before we speak about sex, please read the dullsville section of today’s blog post for me, will you?

Dullsville Section

This is not the first time I have broken a promise I made to my readers, and I hope that you will forgive me this time round too. The reasons I haven’t posted for over a month is because I’ve been too busy lately. While I was away, I was busy with my studies, finding publishers for my books, and most importantly, turning 18. Yeah, I was busy turning 18. Now that I am already an adult, I see nothing special in being an adult really. If anything, I think there is too much paperwork involved, lol!

Now that I am back, let’s get all educational and real. I promise that no matter how busy I might get, I will never forget my readers. This month, I am going to post about really controversial topics such as sexual orientation, religion and atheism, and guess what? Even the illuminati and other secret societies will be demystified in jlukorides.blogspot.com! Talking about my URL, I’d like you to know that I am planning to move my blog to wordpress, but don’t worry because I will sure inform you about my move. And, something else, am gonna tell you an interesting story about the VCT one of these fine days. Trust me; you do not want to miss that!

By the way, if you are a teen and you haven’t liked this page yet (https://www.facebook.com/Teen101Townsel?ref=ts#!/Teen101Townsel) , then you are missing out on a lot of stuff. This page is totally cool! Like it and post all your experiences, questions and we will try our best to get back to you. Thanks for hanging around till the end of the dullsville section. I bet that when watching movies, you usually hang on till the all the credits have rolled up.

Sex Ed for teen virgins

The movie is American Pie, and the teen characters are about to complete high school. What worries the three boys (I watched the American Pie movies several years back, so I can’t even recall the characters. I would have rewatched them again, had my sister not given out the CD to some perv who refused to bring it back!) Where was I? Oh, I was in the middle of a sentence. What worries the three boys is the fact that they are almost finishing high school and they are still virgins! Seriously, who finishes high school and is still a virgin? Only nerds and morons, right? That’s exactly what the teen boys think, and they make a declaration that before they are through with high school, they would have had sex with several girls each. The pressure on the boys is so much because all their peers claim to be having sex every weekend, never mind some of them are just lying to seem cool. So the boys set out to have sex just for that one reason: So as not to complete high school without having been laid. Poor them! Though they try hard, they fail miserably in their quest to quench their conjugal thirst. But here’s the silver lining: all of them finally had real sex on their last day in high school. How did it happen? you might ask. The boys finally came to realize that sex is sacred, not something done just because of peer pressure, or just to prove your manhood.

At the time I was watching American pie, I was in form two then. In school, guys would talk about their holiday adventures and exploits, never mind most of the stories were full of hyperboles. The guys who spoke about sex seemed cooler than us, the boring guys who still thought that virginity is dignity. Trust me, when all your peers have already experienced the pleasures of the pink spot and you’ve never as much as received a kiss from a member of the opposite sex, it is easy to start thinking that virginity is not dignity at all, but rather a lack of opportunity. Some of my friends succumbed to the peer pressure and spent cash on roadside Borubei whores and prostitutes.

I got to admit that I had also set a deadline for myself for breaking my virginity (Not with a roadside whore!). But after watching American Pie, I realized that sex should not be done just for the sake. Sex is a serious thing, and breaking one’s virginity is an even more serious matter. I vowed that if I am ever having sex, it would be with someone I love and in a time when I feel I am ready for it. This is how I have managed to stay a virgin until now. Yes, you heard me right. I am a virgin! Surprised? I am 18 and a virgin. Any virgins reading this? Please leave a comment below.

Does it mean I haven’t found the right person yet? Nope. In fact, I have a girlfriend and we talk about sex sometimes. We’ve both agreed that we will only do it when we are both ready for it. Good thing she’s a virgin too! She also knows that my favourite sex position is virgin. Don’t you know the virgin style? OMG! I can’t believe that you don’t know it. It’s really simple, and I suggest that you start using as soon as possible. This is how it is done: You just stand still with your legs closed waiting for the right person to come around!

This sex topic is far from over. In the next series of posts, I will make sure I exhaust everything about the use of contraceptives, how to open up to your parents about sex, porn, how to make sure you do not regret about your actions, and how Americans do it. Please leave your comments below. If you have any questions or issues that you would like me to address here, feel free to email me at jonesdeelder@gmail.com. You can also hit me up on Facebook (www.facebook.com/jlukorides) or twitter (www.twitter.com/jlukorides)

Today’s parting shot

Boys, try to touch her heart, not her body.

Girls, open books, not legs. Blow minds, not guys.

Hope to see you around.

DON’T HOPE,…DECIDE! and Keep your dream

Am so sorry I haven't posted for a long time, but it's because i was a bit sick. Now am almost well, thanks be to God. Today am not well enough to blog either, so am gonna live you with two great motivational stories by some guys. The stories are 100% true, and I hope they will help you alot.

Tommorow, however, I'll blog something you do not want to miss. Tommorow we'll be speaking about Sex! Yea, you heard me right, SEX EDUCATION for teens.

DON’T HOPE,…DECIDE!  

 While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!” His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, “Me, too, Dad!”

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, “You’re already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!” They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, “Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. “I love you so much!” They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?

“Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those.” he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. “Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. “Two whole days!”

Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not months. I know my expression betrayed me.

I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend),  “I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!”

The man suddenly stopped smiling.

He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!” Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “God bless!”

- By Michael D. Hargrove and Bottom Line Underwriters, Inc.
Copyright 1997

Keep your dream    

I got my friend  Monty Roberts who owns a horse ranch in San Ysidro. He has let me use his house to put on fund-raising events to raise money for youth at risk programs.

The last time I was there he introduced me by saying, “I want to tell you why I let Jack use my horse. It all goes back to a story about a young man who was the son of an itinerant horse trainer who would go from stable to stable, race track to race track, farm to farm and ranch to ranch, training horses. As a result, the boy’s high school career was continually interrupted. When he was a senior, he was asked to write a paper about what he wanted to be and do when he grew up.
“That night he wrote a seven-page paper describing his goal of someday owning a horse ranch. He wrote about his dream in great detail and he even drew a diagram of a 200-acre ranch, showing the location of all the buildings, the stables and the track. Then he drew a detailed floor plan for a 4,000-square-foot house that would sit on a 200-acre dream ranch.
“He put a great deal of his heart into the project and the next day he handed it in to his teacher. Two days later he received his paper back. On the front page was a large red F (Yea, In America they give people F. You have to thank God you Kenyans that the lowest grade you can recieve is an E. In Asia, however, I hear there are only two grades available in their curriculum. you either get an A or you get an E. Unbelievable? Believe it.) with a note that read, `See me after class.’
“The boy with the dream went to see the teacher after class and asked, `Why did I receive an F?’
“The teacher said, `This is an unrealistic dream for a young boy like you. You have no money. You come from an itinerant family. You have no resources. Owning a horse ranch requires a lot of money. You have to buy the land. You have to pay for the original breeding stock and later you’ll have to pay large stud fees. There’s no way you could ever do it.’ Then the teacher added, `If you will rewrite this paper with a more realistic goal, I will reconsider your grade.’
“The boy went home and thought about it long and hard. He asked his father what he should do. His father said, `Look, son, you have to make up your own mind on this. However, I think it is a very important decision for you.’ “Finally, after sitting with it for a week, the boy turned in the same paper, making no changes at all.
He stated, “You can keep the F and I’ll keep my dream.”
Monty then turned to the assembled group and said, “I tell you this story because you are sitting in my 4,000-square-foot house in the middle of my 200-acre horse ranch. I still have that school paper framed over the fireplace.” He added, “The best part of the story is that two summers ago that same schoolteacher brought 30 kids to camp out on my ranch for a week.” When the teacher was leaving, he said, “Look, Monty, I can tell you this now. When I was your teacher, I was something of a dream stealer. During those years I stole a lot of kids’ dreams. Fortunately you had enough gumption not to give up on yours.”
“Don’t let anyone steal your dreams. Follow your heart, no matter what.”

- Author Unknown

30 minutes at the police station

There is always a first time for everything, right? Today was my first time to visit a police station, and to be more specific, a police cell. Let me tell you my 30 minute experience at the police cell.

I boarded the matatu opposite st.Peter’s, if any one of you knows where the place is. The fare from Town to Kiambu was quite fair (no pun intended) at 30 bob.  Sooner than later, we were cruising at neck break speed along Kiambu Road. But our peace and calm was cut short when an officer hailed the vehicle to a stop. As it is normal practice in Kenya, we expected that the officer would be given a little bribe and then we would continue on our journey. Little did we know that this officer was made of different mettle. Instead, the officer wanted to check if all the passengers had  their seatbelts on.  That was when each and everyone of us started to fumble for around their seat searching for the seatbelt. My American friends might find this odd, but it is a very abnormal practice in Kenya for passengers to put their seatbelts on. I mean who checks for seatbelts anyway?

The Typical Kenyan Police

The officer watched us for a moment as we helplessly felt around our seats for the belts. Then the realization hit us hard: THE VEHICLE HAD NO SEATBELTS! Without mincing his words, the stern officer made it clear to us that he was leading the matatu to Kiambu Police Station where we would all be remanded until Monday, when we would be arraigned in court on Monday. Staying at the police cell for 4 days!

Sorry I don’t have much time now, but join me tomorrow to find out what happened at the police station and how I managed to escape.

Stopping Kony: Charity begins at home.

A friend of mine who stays in the USA invited to me to an event on Facebook called Cover the Night.   When I visited the page for the event, I found out that thousands of people had been invited too. What could this popular event be? I wondered to myself. Well, I read the event profile and found out that it was a campaign to popularize a certain Mr. Kony. Apparently, the organizers wanted youth to buy posters of this Kony man and stick them everywhere in their towns tonight so as to popularise the guy.

Who is this Mr. Kony and why does he have to be popular? I kept wondering. That’s when I decided to consult my extremely bright and wise uncle Google.  What uncle told me was shocking. Apparently, Kony is a guy who has been Kidnapping kids and recruiting them to his ghastly Lord’s Resistance Army. Apparently, the LRA has made it a hobby to kill Ugandan people left, right and center.

Why should such a guy be made popular? In response to this, my uncle told me that for a long time, the LRA have been enjoying impunity because few people were aware of what was going on in Uganda. If more people are made aware of the happenings in Uganda, then pressure can be mounted on responsible bodies to help bring the man down so he can be prosecuted.

I felt really ashamed after I read that. Imagine guys in America were fighting hard for the rights of Ugandan children while Kenya remains unruffled and unbothered by the skirmishes in Uganda! The irony of it is that while America is a country miles away from Uganda, Kenya shares a border with it! Isn’t it absurd that I learnt about Kony from my American friend Parker?

I urge you guys to watch the documentary against Kony and join the fight by sharing this on your facebook and twitter accounts. Pass it on please… for the children of Uganda.

Recovering from KCSE my own way : After a Hurricane comes the Rainbow.

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards, one blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you?

You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby, you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, oh, oh, oh
As you shoot across the sky

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go, oh, oh, oh
You're gonna leave 'em falling down

Only my friend Rono knew what i had planned to do to myself if i were to fail KCSE. Well, i managed to fall one point short of my desired grade, thus managing the Asian's F. I really wanted to repeat form four and redo KCSE again, but my parents would hear none of it. Come on, would you allow your child to rewind high schoool with an A-? I doubt. And who am I? Asian?
As Bobby McFerrin sung, every life will have some trouble. if you worry it will make it double. I have since recovered from the shock, but my ultra ego was badly bruised. I badly needed something to boost my ego. So i decided to write a book to help others pass the exam i had failed. A series of books actually, for every examinable subject in KCSE.
Now you are probably thinking i am nuts, aren't you? But i won't be writing all the books by myself. I am gonna team up with a group of top achievers from top national schools in Kenya, and together we are gonna author those books. The publishers, Nolwan Publishers, are the ones who are gonna gather the former students of top schools.
Our series would be titled "Jibambe na KCSE." Quite a catchy title, don't you think? e the head of the writing team, and I'll write a forward for each and every book. Personally, I'll author books for Christian Religious Education, CRE. It was my favourite subject in High School (although i would scrap religious education if i were the minister for education. But that's a story for another day).
By managing to publish the series, i would have given my self-esteem a boost it really needs. Wish me luck, will you? Remember you too are a firework. You gotto let your colours shine.

You don't have to feel like a waste of space
You're original, cannot be replaced
If you only knew what the future holds
After a hurricane comes a rainbow

Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed
So you could open one that leads you to the perfect road
Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow
And when it's time, you'll know