MIND YOUR LANGUAGE.

A lovely weekend it was. The usual mostly alcohol and drugs abuse (what kind of dyke would I be if I did none of that) and smoking my remaining breathers out (having fresh ones if so overrated). I take that back I am all for preservation of organs, have to consider those who need donors but just like recycling and polite conversation-it's one of those things I just wish I could do. 

So after most of the weekend shared with Bitch, she leaves for a distant location :-( and I join fellow dykes in a bar :-). Chilling out on a Sunday evening with everyone on the table with a pounding headache and recaps of the last two nights ain't a punishment.

Having taken a break from the usual scene too indulged in my work and love for my own company apparently I have missed a lot. So its time to catch up on who is dating who, who is sleeping with who and who got caught which is openly the part of the conversation I enjoy most. 

For years on there has been well known characteristics of the Lesbian circles in Nairobi where there are more categories of relations than types of breads. The more mouth airing issue is how acceptable a norm it has caught up to be. So in a social set up where this lovely creatures that as you can see I disassociate from once in a while for reasons as you shall see below not only are there 3-5 X-girlfriends there is the random fucks, affairs, fuck mates, X-wives, the one who got away, love of your life, the one you are in love with, the girl you share women with. 

Let me explain the last one. Seeing as to how human beings are creatures of habit there is a  tendency to repeat a few personality types while picking your Intimates(yes I just graduated that to a noun). So there is always that one woman with whom you share similar interests to say the least, and in a room full both of you have slept with minimally 4 similar persons, maybe even fallen in-love with 2. 

Then comes the issue, when one of them within your proximity and she says "baibe" and both of you sing out "yes" in unison like a catholic choir. You feel you mouths dry up immediately as you stomach gets a slight pricking ulcer that has your back humped and legs Jell-O. 

That is just the tip of this Everest for there is a wider than Adele chance that your Current (see how I did that noun??? am on fire!) is sat right next to you and you have to turn any time within the next 60seconds or you may get your face bitch smacked. 

You twist your head forcefully lick a Cyclops and turn to a very not smiling face and you have the ulcer growing deeper and deeper, the acid damn near eating out your skin as you open your mouth and you know you mind hasn't thought through the word that is a about to leave your hole and you say "Baibe....". A humongous weighty slap lands on your dry-mouthed, ulcer-infested, Jell-O-legged, back-humped self and all you can say is "Baibe this, Baibe that" and the blows land on you simultaneously.

Have lovely week Immah readers.