Men...No, Love...Aaargh I don't know!

Host: Izaak M

Hey babies, tis’ been a while since I graced this room but glad I’m doing this all the same. The sassy bitch has been busy lately and may be MIA for an extra week I think. So, when he gave me his blessings to hold his fort, I took issue with two things: Thank God the End of ‘something’ segment has been kinda reinstated though limited to end of month. See, some of us are just not penetrating (in terms of writing content) like some people we know; then there is that bit of been kept waiting. I still believe I’m the inspiration behind the much talked about high maintenance boys that will soon be a subject of this blog. Don’t worry I’ll put him to task over it during the weekend when he graces my mini housewarming (beau moved house recently) on your behalf but I'm sure I'll be told in usual T.S.R fashion to get over myself, the universe doesn't revolve around me.

September is ending and I must admit this year has been on a mad rush. It has taken me by surprise. Other than bitching here and there, I also have been making some few changes in my fucked up life but I guess we all do this, right?

I wanted to focus on something that this month’s articles ministered to me...

Jeez I sure sound like my reverend already!

The men in my life: I come from a point in time where there’s just too much exposure. My idea of bromance is something like the novellas we watch on our screens. I value being treated right and above all respected but here is the thing, being queer also means that I got a penis and I got to man up most times. That is the only way no one will treat me as a doormat.

‘I feel like a good fuck and I’m getting one this weekend.’ One of the pretty boys told me this week. The same guy will be all sad and feeling used, come Monday. The cycle continues but I’m his bff, I’m supposed to stick by him. Heck, I don’t know. I crave for the days men were handy to have around when required. They were not particularly intelligent but at least they could be taught how to light cigarettes, run errands, open doors and of course the biggest role of them all: give satisfaction in the bedroom!

Take a cab? Who leaves parties alone and flees home? Your date took you home. That is what men were for.

When this love sh*t came it got all of us confused, affairs and cheating have become a norm but I’m still told handle it like a man or do men still stick together even if they are trying to screw their friends’ wives/partners?

I read somewhere that love is much more important than sex because love was a sign of approval while sex was secret…well, not quite as sex was lust and lust means being out of control. To me being out of control has only the worst frightening connotation.

I wish you a great weekend and kindly get your priorities right in the coming month, White Rabbit!

XOXO

Izaak

This Love sh*t is overrated, really.

Host: Victor Geta

Never thought it would take me a quarter of a century to realize that love is just so f**king overrated. The movies, the books and all those lovey dovey stories that I heard had me blinded and led me to believe that love is all that; Let’s be very honest here guys: it is overrated.

Before we proceed further, I better put some miscellaneous thing(s) into perspective. The other day I was having this interesting conversation with Cole and I think he’s finally seen the light that my proposal on dating guys not so blessed in the looks department is definitely a pretty boys’ code matter. C’mon, you guys know how being a zega man is tough. You chat with someone online; share pictures; exchange phone numbers and then finally the hookup. Okay, in most cases those pictures we got never correspond to the horny stranger before us but then it’s normally too late (every gay man has needs) Yes, how do you sleep with someone you are pretty sure you can’t even look at directly? (Kissing is definitely out of the way)

The amended pretty boys’ code states: Cover the face, attack the base!

To those of you who feel time is running out and they need to fall for anyone for the long haul, there is something I came across while preparing for today and I think it's kinda intelligent.  Stendhal says: A man may meet a woman and be shocked by her ugliness. Soon, if she is natural and unaffected, her expression makes him overlook the fault of her features. He begins to find her charming, it enters his head that she might be loved, and a week later he is living in hope. The following week he has been snubbed into despair, and the week afterwards he has gone mad.

Back to matters today: If there is any fool out there just like me and is looking for the kind of love that Hollywood portrays, I hate to be the party pooper but you need to wake up and face the reality. I wondered why I was still alone and had to blame my fantasy, always looking for my prince charming with his shining armor and great physique. Fairy tales do happen but we all aren't Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Thumbelina. Let me echo something: Believe me I would not only love it if I simply slept for a hundred years just to get laid by some charming guy but also if birds were singing by my window and rabbits were helping me brush my hair in the morning.

But Wait... 

These same birds poop on your hair and rabbits are just cute pets in a cage that eat and nibble on carrots and cabbages all day long. Reality alert! Reality alert! It’s after posting this rather disturbing post on my TL that I started to question: Why in the name of god was I still single?
 

The fact of the matter was, as desperate as I was at some moments I was kind of picky and fixated on the idea of being rescued. Being hopelessly romantic did not do me any good. A guy who says ‘I’m looking for a serious relationship’ ain't going to be as gentlemanly as I would want him to be. After the first day he is asking me if I am willing to spend the night with him! SMH, dude let’s get this into your seemingly thick skull: I ain't that cheap and I ain't that easy. Then it gets better, when I’m the horny sexually charged guy, he automatically assumes that I’m a slut, trashy and a hoe!

After my encounter with these kinds of guys, I moved to the ''more mature and a bit older guys''.  After one or two dates I came to a conclusion that whether he is 20 or 40 a man is still a man, controlling and always carrying that little boy inside who always wants to play.
I was recently talking about this subject with a fellow zega who is now happily in a relationship and he asked me why I did break up with my former men. Some of the reasons that I volunteered were really ridiculous namely: ''THEY STOPPED BEING FUNNY''. He wanted to bitch slap me and shake me to wake up. Apparently, that's what is supposed to happen once you are in a relationship and stable...

'I never imagined that the man I fell in love because he made me laugh would eventually turn to some not so funny guy.’ I continued. I’m sorry but that's how it is. So, in conclusion some of the relationships that I successfully broke just because the fun was not just there anymore were actually blooming and growing, DAMN! What a fool I was.

I have since refused to blind date guys since it’s so complicated and besides, the guy whom you talk or chat to ain't the same kind of guy in person (the flirty, funny guy is mostly a silent geek in person) another good friend wrote to me saying blind dating is the way to go. ‘Geta, if you don't meet up guys, how will you meet that prince?' he asked with a lot of concern. I’ll meet him in my dreams. That’s more like it and there is no hustle about it. But maybe he had a point. Single and ready to mingle is the new motto. It has always been.
 

For a guy who believes in soul mates I had to stop for a moment and think. Maybe because of my childishness the proverbial Mr. Right has passed in my life without me realizing it (Did you know we zega guys have a checklist of unrealistic expectations on the men we meet?). I had to comfort myself with the answer 'I would know if I saw him. I haven't seen him yet.' 

Maybe I’m just kidding myself and looking for the easier way out from that tinge of self regret. Sh*t, what the hell? It’s working!
 

The lesson here is that whatever the situation, whoever we are - even those of us who have lifetime achievements for NSA initiatives - we all have got that idea about love and Mr. Right. What’s yours?

Victor Geta 

Victor Geta is an Addis-based konjo (pretty boy) and a friend to T.S.R making his sophomore appearance. He’s definitely opinionated on matters zega. He was recently on a trip to Kenya and has done an article (to distinguish the two regions’ queer scenes) that is ranked 5^th on T.S.R.

Aaaargh! Not a Married Man…Again!

The code has always been clear in my mind (I practically invented it): A pretty boy shall NOT live as someone’s hidden secret when he can be making it in someone else’s major headlines! 

But…

                                      

Prologue

I have started authentic cooking. Not that I didn’t know how to just that last week but one, our next door office neighbours had their lunch catered for. I happened to be invited for two days. So, over the weekend I got busy and went to the market to buy these assorted foodstuffs. I’m still trying to borrow a leaf from those great guys from the Intercon, talk about first world pains! The kachumbari (raw vegetable salad) turned out exactly like what I was served! I can’t wait to move to the next delicacy. Do you know how to cook? I’m talking about fine cooking not buying pizza and boiling water here. Keep it T.S.R. I undertake to critique gay men’s cuisine abilities in the not so distant future.

I also happened to grace this judicial function that same week; forgive my credibility but evidently we Kenyans have a very cool hunk of an older man we refer to as our Chief Justice (to our foreign readers just Google him so that we are on the same page) I got so insufferable when I learnt a new word from some two talented men, one was blind: Mbrrrcha! Apparently, it’s a street word expression when used means: No hard feelings. I loosely used it for a day then forgot about it in entirety since all and sundry made it clear that I need to be current.

Okay, before you start going all Judge Judy on me, there are some things if my late mama rose and even saw me expressing interest in learning I would get some real spanking and no, chains and whips don’t excite me at all here!

The word reeks of being ancient or a used up condom rather going by the handful of criticism I received.  I later on had the opportunity to see the brain behind it on Friday evening in one of those teenage shows. The only S.I Unit I’ve always had of someone who spots dreadlocks, speaks an impeccable lingo and is well known to me is Leo, the KIPE boss. Mbuzi (sic) is definitely Haaawt but I’m sure the only thing I’d ever understand if something ever happened between us God forbid is that Rastafarian chant ‘Aaaah! Jah Bless this a**’ during a quickie climax. If nothing seems to happen considering men nowadays have lots of pressure from pretty boys in the bedroom, I’d just tell him Hakuna Mbrrrcha! (No Hard feelings)

Finally, Friday was great; I wasn’t working though the workaholic in me stopped by the office ‘briefly’. Later in the afternoon I decided to go shopping. Six pairs of shoes and three skinnies that don’t fit later, I had to retire home and there is where all that aforesaid cooking talk came to fore. By the way my man cleanse ends in a week.  I’m glad I did it, the last time I was with a man in a not so honorable distance, there was just too much -OMG what did we just do? God will punish us- kind of talk. Further, the last time I did a man cleanse it rewarded me with one of those things you call boyfriend. It’s really remarkable how I successfully managed to have such misdirected priorities then. You should try it out you know. Sh*t, my bad! Let’s now focus, I've really blabbered…

OK, I have been having these not-so-godly-approved late night fantasies…with married men! Secondly, some very single men I happen to have met much earlier in the scene are lately making very worrying decisions: They are planning on getting married to women! (No disrespect meant girlfriends) and they have intimated to me as much citing inter alia their age clocks ticking. Whatever makes you sleep better at night guys! In my view I'd advise they really seek some counseling before this move lest they end up like all these lose canons deflowering young boys in town!

This week we talk about those fine men who once we talk to say, online, we virtually plan a relationship, move in with them, start having those couple moments guys in relationships usually have e.g. making for him that salad I talked about earlier, having joint investments…Then when we finally meet them, all the aforesaid fantasies go down the drain just because of a piece of metal on their left hand, Boom! They may be as popular as fuck or as fine as Lebron J but for Heavens sake, their loyalty lies with pu**y! 

          

Even if they feign it, I must admit, hitched men ooze lots of class in dating. They are pretty in charge of the situation however incompatible you find yourselves in.  Of course these are the guys that will appreciate a road trip with you out of town, they are pretty concerned about how independent you are; that’s why he asked whether you stay alone. You will never get to see his place and if you do, you not only become a friend to the wife and those gorgeous kids (usually they are all too daft to decrypt)  but also the listening ear to the woes and good moments he has with the legitimate partaker of his belongings.  Unless you are using him as an ATM or a means to an end, honey, the code is clear. He’s NOT leaving them for you! To nurse your already bruised ego, you also have a right to cuddly related activities while you watch The News; a man’s sluggish talk when he’s falling asleep (Gosh, it’s really sexy), waking up next to him customarily with a morning kiss. Your man!

'Cole, he's married'. 'Since when did that become a problem?' I asked. Well, this line of thinking on my end has kind of changed. Jo-C candidly opined while we were attending the final horse race season that I’m growing old hence the reason the dates I’ve been gracing lately tend to bring about this breed of men. 
His wife calls him at 3 in the morning asking his whereabouts and in similar fashion of his counterparts, he effortlessly supplies 'I'm with the boys' in response. We are in the fourth club all in the name of marrying the night and I'm still not letting my guard down as expected. Men can be so fickle at times. There are some bitches who just don't get laid that easy! 

I wanted to get more graphic on this but since we are a family blog, I'll just ask: Is the sex mechanical? I hear one has to picture himself having a moment of sin with that youthful nagging member who gets into his nerves for a successful performance back at home. Not that I'm judging but have you read the current local grapevine on a public figure who is on the brink of a failed second marriage? All indicators apparently allege he's queer as they come. Married zega guys have been reduced to being careful. It's a pity to the women who strive to keep it together in all these, chances are that if they already know they'll stick by you because of among other things the kids. It's tough being gay and married all because you had to man up and please a society that in all honesty has no input in how you live your silly life!

Would you date a married man? If you already find yourself in peculiar circumstances of sharing him, are you happy? Well, it’s all about what one wants, besides it’s a competitive world out here! 

I don't know or even care about your situation but holding all other factors constant, my man's got to wake up right next to me the following morning (not those that leave you high and dry because they have to go to a bed I'm sure they are not even comfortable in!) #Realtalk!

Regards,

Mutahi. 

P.S: Next time we meet I'll share with you something I learnt over the weekend about the duration a man dances in a club and how it compares to his 'performance'. Yes. I learn a lot of disturbing things from you every other day. That notwithstanding, I'll see you in a fortnight. Next week you'll be in the capable hands of a guest you'll definitely love to hate.

Vaya con Dios Amigo mio: Tribute to Stephane de’ Benito

Everything. Everyone. Everywhere. Ends. My ardent readers may take notice that this is the second article that I find myself in peculiar circumstances starting it lke this.

‘Your blog is going to be posted in a page with 400,000 readers... I thought I should let you know...’ He said to me late one evening. 

We were then trying to get some help for Abdul* - some Burundian who was a refugee at Kakuma having fled from home whose story was run by T.S.R. 

As Steph loved music, I will try to be as musical as I can. We can really use it:

I never discerned I would ever do an editorial like this on this side of the blogosphere. Just as I‘d mentioned earlier on our Facebook Page. After crying my eyes dry for at least 30 minutes. I still couldn't come to terms with the fact that we'd lost the author of 'Grim, Grey and Smokey' that ill-fated morning. I say ill- fated because that same morning as I was on a cycling rendezvous I came across some grisly accident that was an addition to the disturbing happenings this month of August has successfully availed to us. Stephane was not only a friend or a colleague (I used to have lots of that one psychoanalyst to another discourses with him) but also one of the biggest brains behind T.S.R.   

Addressing my mind to all these, He really tamed me a lot due to his wisdom. Indeed, successful articles herein have lots of his ingenious input. It's really a bitter truth...

Having suspended all our activities for this week in honor of a star, I’m obliged to share a few moments his existence benefited me with. After at least one and a half years of conversation basically on phone and social media, we met in March this year. I got to Westgate about 15 minutes late thanks to the usually aggravating Nairobi evening traffic but then it was a weekday.  

 Of course his gentleman weakness made him not only take off his stunners but also rise and meet me as I approached his table, talk about a man who was definitely well bred. He was having his usual Pilsner while appreciating some pictures on his iPad. Two and a half hours later, we had to crown the evening with leave to schedule a new one for purposes of introducing me to his beau formally. We never came round to it due to our visibly different but taxing work schedules but we definitely kept touch.

‘Cole, only 69 to go for you to hit the 6K mark! You must be doing something right’ he last tweeted to me before I took a short lived sabbatical over 3 weeks ago. He definitely commended effort when he saw it. From my days as an ‘on demand’ monthly columnist on Identity Magazine, a ‘start up’ blogger to a work in progress and now a confirmed monthly IM columnist with a spot to do what I do best. It’s pretty disheartening I won’t get to share with him this new development. Even prior to the aforesaid tweet he had told me I was treading dangerously by giving a personal interview to my  readers. 

‘There are differences between those who work to become someone/something and those who spend time combing light bulbs…that is my take on things Cole, always been.’ He once affirmed to me.

Back to the beginning sentiments on this article  ‘My god! I created a monster...comments from South America, Europe, Australia keep coming in, Good! I wanted exposure and that's what I’m getting. Your blog is all over the world right now....’ He was definitely excited when his efforts on getting respite for Abdul* seemed to work out. While I was personally feeling all teary and so humbled, he calmed me down and said,  ‘Darl, that's what true friendship means. I can assure you that's the only way I work. I wouldn't do it any other way, despite the slaps that I get in my face. Let's make a big deal in the media. Do you allow me to send your article to some magazines? I can translate in Spanish and French...’ Yes, this is the person I’m going to miss, really.

He inspired a lot of stuff you have read here on T.S.R. From ‘It could be any of us’ to ‘Men and their Ink.’ (The latter was written a week after we had talked about tats on a Saturday I was in office) You can feel Steph in these articles. He was planning to do an article that touched on his morning intrigues at the Gym. You just need to visit his timeline around that period and peruse his status updates. Okay, if you have a perverted mind like me, you are welcome. Just so you know, he used to hate it when I went all insufferable on him thanking him for really being part of making all my great milestones possible or even just expunging a whole paragraph before publishing due to his input…but then I pause here and wonder what do you say about a person who was always the first one to give you feedback after a piece written? A person who became your official second follower after The gayte-keeper? A person who’s ready to prepare for a mission just to go and help a stranger!

Cole: Live and love life.....Defy Gravity!

Stephane: Ditto!!Hoping to make your evening with comments. Actually have you thought on writing about interracial couples? How this bloody mzungu (Caucasian) is stupidly in love... I think I'm reaching my penispause!

Yes,

Everything. Everyone. Everywhere. Ends. The last time I posted this on my Timeline, Steph didn’t hesitate to say that that’s how he kinda lived his life. If you think I don’t have my facts right, just go through his article:  Grim, Grey and Smokey. 

T.S.R has not only lost a friend or one of its greatest brains but also a mentor and a meaningful contact that was available and not necessarily upon request. I’m really devastated. 

Mis condolencias profundas y sentidas van a su galán Kyle, la Madre Estrella Benito, Lynda de’ Ben’, Eric de ‘Benito, la familia Benito .en su totalidad, amigos enormes de Steph y contactos significativos (Esto también debe pasar a amigos) y cualquier otra persona que estuviera orgullosa de tener que ver con esta estrella.

He may be gone but his spirit shall live on. His spirit of being too kind, intelligent , wise and above all, his resilience when dealing with all and sundry. 

Vaya Con Dios amigo mio :’(

 Cole Mutahi