She’s My Wife

She’s My Wife

Uyo Ndo nataka

Nipe slayqueen,  yes! The one with the two basketballs protruding in her hips! The one with the spanish ass full of german juice and who blows french kisses to all who stare at it. The one who wears skirts long enough to make men drool trying to X-ray-visualise what lies at the end of the eternal slit but short enough to reveal all the “hordes” if someone to coughed some wind towards it.

Ama nipe the yellow yellow thin one with tattoos and piercings all over. Yets, her skin looking like a class one’s canvas piece. With a ring on the nose that reminds you of the cattle with bull rings in Rongai. Or the one who laughs like; Ho Ho Ho whore! Eeh at least she’s seen it all.

I’ll buy her a phone, with the best camera, they call it megapixel. A picture tells a thousand memories right? I’ll let her cherish the endless moments we’ll have into memories. I’ll take her to endless photo shoots. She’ll expose her figure, you’ll see her in a bikini near a pool, in fancy pants but I remind you, vunja mifupa kama bado meno ipo. Don’t be pissed off when she posts she’s taking cappuccino at Java or when she’s shopping at the mall, please just don’t take it personal, just let her do her thing. At some point in life we’ll be in walking sticks, we’ll be sitted with her, wrinkled face and we’ll play a video slide of all these pictures and we’ll agree in unison, ‘those were the damn good days’.

Logically speaking, why should I go for a woman I won’t even be proud to introduce to my so called slaying friends. I’ll let her flow with the trends, the fashion. I stand to be corrected but  my dress my choice still exists right? And hey mind how you talk to her, she’s my wife after all, not yours. If anyone should have a problem it’s me.

Fridays. Frankly speaking, I don’t mind if she’ll be attending the keshas at the nearby church, I won’t deny her her freedom of worship. But imagine me and my girl, dressed up to kill, walking hand in hand to that club where we first met. We’ll dance the night off, take shots of liquor then drag ourselves back to our apartment. Then we’ll wake up the next morning nursing our hangovers. No one will complain about anything, and it’s better you refer her to my bitch. That’s better, not the ‘bitch part’ but the ‘my’ part.

Lakini a good girl wa ocha no.  No no nononono…. Noooo!! Nijikutee!  Ata ka I feel a woman’s touch in every meal she cooks. Ata ka her nunu is tighter than a mouse’s anus! No!  Because the difference between her and Wale wa  tao is environment and chance. So everyone’s behaviour is just a victim of circumstances. At least with the towns women I would know exactly what I’d be getting into. Because they have been exposed to it all so they are who they are. Lakini kale kamshamba hufungiwa kwa Nyumba ni kazuri tu ju hakajawai pata opportunity. You don’t know her potential for bitchcraft! Who knows what monster she would morph into if she got exposed? Hehe I want a made woman bana.  Not a “shackled” one! Wahenga wakanena,  Afadhali minji minji ikupayo uzima,  kuliko ndengu ibadilikayo ikiiva! I don’t want a wife mwenye atakua anaoga na sabuni mpaka inakaa sim card.

Hohoho whore! Acha nipeleke bangi msema ukweli kwingine.

The Guy

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