Money hungry Happy suffers a lesson

Did I hear you say it or did I hear it said elsewhere? Anyway, whatever is the case, it’s some chap who said that you reap what you sow and another said that he who pays the piper, calls the tune.

Well, those are sound moral lessons if one was to take them at their deeper meaning. sI mean for instance, how can you expect to reap mandaazi from a field where you actually sowed kabalagala or gonja? And then, how can you continue singing sisiiri when your paymaster demands that you sing a different song because ‘ffe sisiiri twamukoowa’. Clearly, the situation is that each for himself and God for us all.

So it happened to our Happy or Sanyu, her name is. A youngish miscreant in her late twenties, Sanyu is a fair beauty, lives a care free lifestyle, likes the bottle just like yours in service, enjoys night life to no limits and can go all the way to spend a night out if only to swallow booze, dance away the night and pay up for all this by spreading silly her midsection for a bonking from the guy(s) who footed her bill. She is known to have twice been gang raped and to have been sexexcited by the experience as she once told her close friends of a similar life inkling.

Thanks to her as well drunko excuse of a father who also flirts with Eve’s granddaughters irrespective of age or beauty, Sanyu will flirt with any man as long as the subject can foot her drinking bill. The man can be a total stranger, a member of any vocation, status or a Ssebabi of any status whose ugliness can even make children cry. To her it’s shauri yako so long as he can buy her booze any day any time. And as some of you may know, many a mans’ mind revolves around sex and booze drives many a man to wish for sex. What then happens is that Sanyu has been donged for ages by men and boys of all ages including men who should be her grandfather. In fact, if we were to go back to our growing up days, you could call this shortish excuse of a female creation ‘Sowaani ya bonna buli asanga y’akozaamu.’

And how did I come to know all this about this ka-woman, you may ask. Well, that’s inexperience of you. This is because if some of the very men who dong her don’t talk or boast to colleagues about such a loose character, they will recommend to colleagues who suffer from a desert for a bonk to seek her out. What’s more, when she hankers for a drink, this very girl is known to ask any of her three young brothers to get her a man willing to foot her drinking bill in exchange for a bout of sex as a clincher.

 Thing is this girl had an excuse of an education answering to sitting before a blackboard for only three years in her life that if you were to ask her to sing for you sisiiri in english, she will sing something like Sesiriya. She is therefore unemployable except for jobs like being a yaaya, a house maid or a bar attendant and oh yes, if vending pudenda can be called a job, she can fit in. I am sure you must have seen her ilk around. And oh no, KCCA can not employ her as a car parking attendant on the city streets because she won’t know how to write a parking ticket and by this I am not exaggerating things.

This girl can unleash a loud foul mouth on you if you challenged her on her immorality while caring nothing whether there are people around or even when a crowd gathers to listen and watch the spectacle. This makes me to wonder whether shameless creatures like her should not have been created to breathe in carbon monoxide or even carbon dioxide unlike you, you and you who cringe at finding yourself at the receiving end of a shameful episode.

So it was this past Friday night when some female character was  crooning a launch of her recently released album in one night club in Kabalagala. Sanyu hooked a chap to buy her the entrance ticket, as well as to chaperone her drinking, dancing, topped by an unpronounced sexing of her well serviced and candida-rich hole of understanding. The fella happens to be hooked on smoking ganja, muching miraa, guzzling an admixture of crude waragi and malwa all of which he told your Sanyu to also partake and, believe it or don’t, the damn girl shrieked with glee that she was game at all this.

Close on to midnight and come paying up time, when the guy’s pecker was rigid like a piece of iron bar, he pulled the now tipsy ka-girl out of the club, took her to his sleeping hangout in nearby Kansanga. The groggy and staggering ka-girl was ushered, naay, helped into a wall fenced-off compound into a bedroom where, while shrieking, she was de-robed in a frenzy and the zonked guy embarked on literally eating her pussy without a life saver.

Talk of how sex excites drunken heads. Your Sanyu crooned almost all the sisiiri songs known to you, you and you while the guy was rapid pumping her pussy silly of course possessed by the drugs inside his head, body and pecker. Thrice, he drowned the girl’s ka-thing in a live and kicking spermatozoa and tore open her virgin juke box, I mean exhaust pipe, which he  mercilessly harassed in a long drive oblivious of the girl’s cries for mercy. Mercy my foot! The girl should have known that if you decide to eat thorns, you ought to be prepared for how to chew them.

    Don’t ask me how I got to know this. I happen to operate an illegal clinic in the neighbouring suburb and in the following two days, this is where this girl went pleading to have her anal hole sewed up mbu because food waste was pouring out of her with no control. She had as well been infected with a conc STD making her front hole to ooze yellowish yoghurt as well as giving off a foul smell. You sympathise with the girl? To hell with you; me am not a gentleman.

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