I want a girl with a soft encouraging eclectic smile. A smile that dwindles my soul and cripples my feeble bones. A smile that lightens up my façade and softens the bruises of hurt left in my heart by the inhabitants of this cold world. A smile that screams “You can do it” in gracious silence when am confronted with the bulkiest of challenges. A smile that unravels the deepest of my secrets and wraps them tenderly in a warm embrace of delight. A smile that unlocks the brawny cages of my heart with just a slight knock and shuts itself in. I want a girl with an elusive seductive smile capable of springing up my emotions in the most awkward of demeanors, awakening the elephant in the room (read: my trousers).
I want a damsel with a nice warm welcoming attitude. An attitude that sees no wrong in denying herself for the comfort of others. An attitude willing to treat every Tom, Dick and Harry in the streets, dirty or clean, young or old, with a fair amount of respect. An attitude that beckons her to drop the remote, run to the best bar situated at the other side of town and grab me an ice cold Tusker whenever I want to watch football. An attitude that stalls her from hurling insults and kitchenware at me whenever I come home late as I was probably just ‘working late’. I want a she with an attitude able to tell that I can stroke a modest conversation with another lady without necessarily being interested in pursuing her.
Am looking for that perfect female with a polite sense of humor and downright honesty. A female that says, “Yes” when she means just that and does not expect me to interpret it as “No!” She that massages my obese cheeks and punches my air-embezzling protracted nose whenever she’s mad but does not brood in the house for decades and decline to utter a syllable. (Note: There will be war if you dare lay a finger on the, er…my, elephant in the room, I mean my trousers). A female that recognizes the fact that am much more hilarious than MC Jessy and bursts out in mind-boggling laughter at my obviously lame shaggy-dog tales.
I want a smart understanding mademoiselle. One that can tell the difference between her ATM machine and my sore wallet. One that knows there shall always be squabbles and be prepared to deal with them harmoniously, not pack her bags and walk out just ‘cause I wanted to watch the latest Jason Statham blockbuster in town while La Mujer Muhehe was still on air. One able to distinguish clearly between fiction and real life; that holding her hands and kissing her on the lips tenderly in the streets is for Damian and Maricruz. We are Omondi and Adhiambo, the bedroom is as far as romance goes.
I want just that one rare breed of women whose food you wouldn’t dare taking off your mouth after just a taste. They whose recipe is second only to Mama’s (be warned my sister has a mean taste in the kitchen too). They whose meals leave you yearning and beseeching for more. They whose Mamas taught well on how to keep their man. They whose perfect embodiment is the cliché, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach”.
I seek not a beautiful lass, what if some rogue accident on the road one day does injustice to that pretty round face and am no longer attracted to her? I seek not a hippy round-bottom-flask shaped girl either, what happens the day she gets pregnant and I can’t stand her robust weight anymore?
Tall or short, thin or fat, rich or poor, ugly or beautiful…this is the girl I desire, for she is the one that represents everything outstanding in my silent reveries. She is the one whose soft lips caress mine in the most amazing of ways. She is the one whose tender body rubbed against mine makes me want to sing ‘Don’t wake me up’. She is the one whose sluggish purry voice declares Beyoncé persona-non-grata to my ears. She is the one in whose arms a pillow is as irrelevant as twerking to House music (Take note Kenyan ladies when in the club). Yet all these, for just one reason:
She is the one of my dreams!
Be blessed beautiful people.
(Meanwhile though, in some totally unrelated news, I had the pleasure of spending my Friday nocturnal in the company of 3 amazing folks. I dare not mention the names of the others but hats off to my n***a Thomas Chacha, the fun wouldn’t have been real without you. You have to admit it though, shouting you out on the second post of my blog is no monkey business boss, so when should I be expecting that M-pesa?)
12 thoughts on “SHE OF MY DREAMS”
Yet another nyc one namcee….haha…dem ka uyo qualitiez ka izo…….kudoss!!!!
Manzi ka uyo ndo manzi mi napenda. Hahahah….ndo ivo boss
as i said in the last post, i gat u.(whisper)
Great stuff man.. and be blessed too
Thank You Sir.
LMAO…..Dont even think about it boss!
gud stuff….am startin to like it…finally you got my effin attention n**ga!!
My nigga, my nigga……Hahah, Thats the spirit.