Your mother is wrong. So is your five-figure-salary earning boyfriend. He’s just trying to hold onto the miracle or idiocy that is you.  Just when he thought he’d have to forever settle for his mother as the only woman to ever love him, you came along, loved him, and have now fooled your pretty head into believing that rent and power bills will be paid for in mushy currency. And with all this free education going on, you think he will send the kids to UPE and USE schools.

You my fellow female are in denial. Just like those singers who think endless studio time will turn their croaks to decent tunes, woe unto you. In fact, wululu unto you. And no, Miley Cyrus cannot sing. You need to re-acquaint yourself with that Destiny’s Child song. Not brown eyes. That’s probably the reason you’re in this mix to begin with. Here’s why all men blessed by the poverty god should be avoided.

It’s the biggest ring I could afford. See it? There…in the lower right-hand corner

• There is not a lot going on there. This should be obvious. But you’re in love with a broke dude. Clearly with you, not many things are clear. There is a five figure salary to cover transport, barely make rent and take you out to nice places. On your birthday. If you’re going to keep paying for your own nice dinners, it makes sense that you can do this with your girls. At least, they pick up their tabs.

• All things bright; and clear. Tadoobas don’t count as lighting. You might be having mukene (cat food) for dinner and don’t need light to illuminate your lacking plate but on the special days he buys meat (his birthday) you’ll need proper lighting to enhance the celebration. Nothing romantic about paraffin fumed dinners. And UMEME imprisons power stealers these days.

You told me there was no load shedding at your house you fool! I want a divorce!

• The kids; numbers don’t lie. Half of UPE-attending kids can’t read for “£$%. Daft kids are okay. Daft, broke kids are not. Think galo, yowa-speaking children, smeared in samona. And they will be yowas. Sad, right?
• Love, o Love; girls and women. Ladies and those like me. Love doesn’t conquer all. Money doesn’t buy happiness. But it buys shoes, and bags. Love doesn’t turn mushrooms into chicken. Nothing does. The coke ad lied. Love only makes your blood rush faster. It helps you identify with Celine Dion. It does not serve as a barter trade currency. Hence,”some of our love for some of your tomatoes?” will not work. No. Not even just for ntuula.
• For the haters; some of you swear that all men are dogs. We’ll assume they are. So it makes perfect sense that you put up with a loaded dog vies-a-vie a broke one. That way when he pulls a Tiger Woods on you, you can fly to Dubai on a shopping and think-through-things-spree. On his tab. Just how do you punish a broke man turned dog? Let me tell you how; you don’t get with that in the first place.

Sometimes, you go through life as happy-go-lucky as a fly on a honey jar. Then you realize that the honey is stiffening and you are trapped. You come home one day, enter your kitchen and the sight that meets you is so mind boggling all you can do is make this retarded ass face.

Welcome and many Happy Felicitations you cretin, you have just lost the plot

If you are a bachelor, losing the plot where your kitchen is concerned is not difficult, it is frighteningly easy. One day you just come home and find your kitchen has committed suicide.

I have taken it upon myself to throw down a few pointers. This is friendly advice. Presenting the top ten ways you know its time to do something about your fshnucking kitchen.

1- The dishes
Now tell me you filthy motherfrucker, did you think they were going to wash themselves? Did you think that scraping off last weeks dried spaghetti with your fingernails qualifies? Look at him sniffing them. Like socks. This punk would rather go and buy new plates than wash the ones he has. The punk is actually throwing them in the bin. What the hell are you doing, go wash the things, you are losing the plot.

2- The bin
Take the trash out Brainless. Pretending you don’t see the rubbish, just because it is growing hair. You think you have a pet now huh? You think you have a small furry mammal squatting under your sink? That’s no pet. That is Darwinism. Take out the frucking trash, you are losing the plot.

3- The sink
There is a shoe in the sink. Now tell me.

4- The visitors.
Every time your landlady comes into your kitchen she first makes the sign of the cross. Well, she isn’t that religious and you know it. You want to know why she crosses herself? You want to know why there is terror in her eyes? Ok. I will tell you. It is because Satan himself lives in your kitchen. That is why.

5- The furnishings
Now what is a bong doing in your kitchen? Hmmm? Honestly, give me one good reason why there is a bic pen tube and a shriveled pineapple stuck together with masking tape in your kitchen. Goddamnit you fcuking retard, the reason I brought your attention to it was so that you could remove the motherflaker, not eat it. I swear this guy! Alright go ahead, eat the bong. Christ, and I hope you get tapeworm.

6- The smell.
This is not even funny. Your kitchen walls used to be blue, now they are grey. You are bleaching the walls with stink dumbnuts! Don’t pretend everything is hunk- dory just because your nose stopped working a month ago. There must be a reason why the skin on your face is peeling. You aren’t doing research for the Chemical Department of the military, do something, you are losing the plot.

7- The pests.
Cockroach puke. How bad does it have to be for cockroaches to puke? You are something else you know that? You know people can’t even bewitch you now? Even evil spirits are afraid of coming near your kitchen.

8- The food.
This is how low you have fallen? This is where things have reached? You are raiding the mouse trap for food now? Congratulations.

9- The nightmares
I am not saying that dreams are bad, or that they are good. No one needs believe in dreams, they are just dreams, but if in your sleep you hear voices coming out of the taps, wailing voices, maybe you need to pay some fekking attention and go pay your fekking water bill you Idjit.

10- The appliances
No. I do not think wrapping grasshoppers in newspaper and ironing them  counts as cooking. No it doesn’t.  Say what you want.  I am done here. I can’t take this.

The inspector general of police, Maj. Gen. Kale Kayihura has lauded Son of God, Jesus Christ for his politically peaceful ascension to heaven after it was reported that Jesus used a cloud to go home instead of walking there. This was during a press conference earlier this morning at police headquarters, State House.

…he just went up pooofff…no walking…

Kayihura’s comments come in the wake of the recent countrywide walk-to-work protests by opposition parties. The police boss called upon the public to follow Jesus’ holy example for the general good of the country. He, however, did not specify whether Ugandans should also use clouds in their daily movements.

“You see why such people like Jesus are famous worldwide?” he shot. “You see? He respects the NRM and its police force. Even when he was going to the grave, he did not walk there. He was carried in a coffin.”

Kayihura threatened to arrest a Monitor newspaper journalist and charge him with sedition and unlawful obstruction of holy speech after he tried to correct him that Jesus was not buried in a coffin. He then immediately ended the press conference and threw a mineral water bottle at a Power FM reporter after he clarified that Jesus also used to walk to work to preach the gospel.