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This isn’t about hair

I grew a beard late in life. We are talking 27 years of age. Hairlessness way after your adolescence, when all your peers already look like colobus monkeys tend to make one develop serious hang-ups.

A cut below

Some time back after a game of squash, my boy and I went back into the changing rooms of this club to take a shower and ran into an army of stark naked guys.

Sabina Joy.

This piece was first informed by a slight altercation then spurred by bravado. A friend told me that I’m a “middle-class sympathiser” masquerading behind my yellowish rants as a way of “validating and lauding” the middle-class idiosyncrasies and that I should consider my modus operandi and “stop representing” the farce that this dated landscape has become.

Zonke..and a Guest Writer.

Saturday I spent a whole day in Funyula, Western Kenya. World Diabetes Day. Long story. In the evening, I linked up with my cousin Farouk. Remember him, the ex-convict? He got a gig in Bunjumbura where nobody knows he spent a few years in jail.

High Heels.

“High Heels were invented by a woman who was kissed on the forehead.” –Christopher Morley.

She dwarfed everything around her. I mean dwarfed in the sense that she made everything look insignificant and minute,

Pretty boys…

I like boxing. It’s crude and primal. It’s blood, gore and aggression. And it’s down dirty. You use your knuckles to pound another man’s head until they submit to you. Until they hit the canvas and

Thoroughly placed was BECAUSE clear.