The cool down post

"We gon' cool down on this one, you just recline right now turn this up... Turn the track up but you get low..." Intro to Cool down - Jazz Liberators featuring Raashan Ahmad.

I'm a cool down person. There is nothing I love more than just taking it easy, laying back and closing my eyes with no distractions, just freeing my mind. Like my music. I love slow, lazy, rhythmic, calming the soul and massaging the chi back to life kind of music. "Relax into the melody..."

Like cashew nuts and almonds with raisins and yogurt, or a foamy froth at the right Fahrenheit (Frosty) on a warm day with a light breeze in a fluttering dress on the Indian ocean coast "Escape 9 to 5, cool out, the sunset touch...."

Like the picture Zamajobe paints in my head of ndawo yami, my heart, a field with grass so green and so mossy soft, and a stream that I could dip my toes in because when you cool your feet the rest of you keeps cool including your mind "Recline *ahhh* inhale nature..."

Like good soft poetry, the cliche type with a steady drum line in the background and the drip-drop of consciousness as it trickles into my mind "Out of the crowd, blaze your bliss, blossom the boom box with this..."

Like afterglow. After slow sweet sensual love with the scented candles and the cigarette lit, feeling complete in more ways than one "Cool down, relax, chill, slow down baby, love plus the sun is where I'm from...."

Like when the rain is strumming against my window and the sky is deliciously darkened. Home alone with my thoughts and a pen to siphon them onto a paper with, soulful jazz notes and a glass of sweet Californian red to keep me company "Right the rhythm radiant rustle the rain rock steady...."

Like I. Like he. Like just being. If only for a few stolen moments, Just Being.

To better understand this post, I suggest you put off your phone, kick back, sink into an easy chair, ease your mind, get a cup/ bottle/ glass of your favorite poison, light whatever you prefer to light, fuck the system and listen to Cool-down - Jazz Liberators feat Raashan Ahmad

Soundtrack:
*Refer above*

On my bookshelve:
Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

On my wall:
Komushana a.k.a. Sunshine - Eizzy K

Fuck you, and you and yes you too! No, not you

A rant by any other name is still a rant so if you’re not in the mood to read mine today then don’t pardon my French when tell you that you can royally fuck off!

To the brass tacks then..... I hate people who invite themselves over to my place, in fact I bloody well hate visitors in general. They never know when to leave and I have to sit there and laugh politely at their god-awful jokes while all the time formulating in my head the best way to skewer them then pit-roast them over an open fire. ( Of course this definitely excludes you T-baby and S-luv) But that was just a by the by.

So apparently I am a really bad communicator. Which is really ironic because when I applied for the torture that masquerades as higher education I ticked communication to the masses next to the little box that said choose course (apparently I also don’t do to well with fine print when I don’t have my glasses on). That having been declared, it then goes without saying that these phone gadgets are simply not my forte, especially when it comes to text messaging. I am sick and tired or people giving me grief about not answering their meaningless text messages.

Here’s the thing, when you send me an SMS and I don’t reply it, it doesn’t necessarily mean that I don’t like you (Though I probably don’t) or that you’re an insignificant little twit who doesn’t mean shit to me (Though you probably are), it just means I simply couldn’t be bothered wasting my time typing words on a miniscule keypad taking care to omit the vowels in order to make sure there are only 160 characters. And in case you have a problem with that then by all means pick a number and join the queue because I hate to break it to you, you are not the only one! And if symptoms persist, form a tribunal and take it to the bloody Hague!

Soundtrack:

Golden - Jill Scott

Golden - Chrisette Michele

Bookshelve:

Knowing God – Deepak Chopra

On my wall:

Starry night - Vincent Van Gogh

My honest crap

Hear ye, hear ye oh wunnerfull blogren, that it has been agreed upon by all of you *I insist* represented by the lovelies Val, PinkM, Ourkid, Keikei and The blogger formerly known as Nzembi, that a scrap award for honesty shall be bestowed upon me (Cue thunderous applause here!)

(The dramatic tearful acceptance) *Bow, curtsey, bob and blow kisses* "Awww, you can stop clapping now, really... Shucks, I know it comes as no suprise because any trophy made of scrap metal rightfully belongs to me, but I'm quite touched ;-D

There were rules somewhere but I'll make like a matatu driver with traffic laws and forget that they ever existed.

Drums, check. Bass, check. Strings, check. Groove and funk, Check. Let's proceed shall we....

1. Floetry - Floetic

If only I was poetic! You see I fancy myself a wee bit of a poet, but it recently came to my attention that I'm as poetic as George Bush is intellectual (No pun not intended!) But it wasn't suprising really, seeing how at one point or another in my life I thought I was musical or artistic or even prophetic depending on how the wind blew. I even considered myself somwhat of a Sumo wrestler until I realised that the swallowed thongs and the flabby bellies really do not do justice to my skin tone :-D

3. Beyonce - If I were a boy

I'd mic check my dongle (yes PinkM I said dongle! Hehe) Make sure the portable wi-fi was in proper working order, then proceed to find THIS idiot and reciprocate the golden favour!!

4. D'angelo - Shit, damn, motherfucker

Okay, this one might be a wee bit TMI: Apparently I can't take a dump in a foreign environment. I shit you not! When I'm travelling for long I can sub-consciously constipate myself for up to two weeks until I get back home to my throne room, unless it's incase of an emergency, in that case.....

6. Raul midon - State of mind

After watching the matrix trilogy I figured that everything in life is a state of mind. Since then I've been trying to bend spoons with my mind and I've been waiting for a call or for someone to come up to me and ask me whether I want the red pill or the blue one. Neither has happened yet, but soon....So if perchance any of you see me staring at a spoon suspiciously.....

7. Bob Marley feat Erykah Badu - No more trouble

Of late I'm becoming quite the passive aggressive. Which is really messed up coz I get irrate easily, but I'm bottling it all up inside. I'm just afraid I might take it all out on some poor sod who steps on my foot accidentally one fateful morning. If that poor sod happens to be any of you I apologize in advance!

9. Common - Soulfood

I am picky eater. A reeeeeeally picky eater, like a five year old or a pregnant lady. I don't eat chilly, AT ALL!! (Not red ones or green ones or yellow ones or blue ones or curry or anything that can be considered remotely hot and spicy!!) I don't like experimenting with fancy stuff and I stay away from anything that is neon coloured. I don't like chocolate (Unless it's raffaelo's) or ice-cream (Unless it's peppemint with choc-chips) I go through phrases when I only want to eat a particular food like noodles or pies, depending on my mood. And I eat ice-cubes. Abnormally so. At least 2-3 trays a day without fail. I can wake up in the morning and have ice-cubes and milk and crunch away at it as if it's a cereal!

10. Brian Mcknight - Back at one

Calculus is not my forte so I'll assume I've reached ten.

Thankyou all for being such a lovely audience. *Mwaaah, mwaaah, mwaaah, and mwaaah to you too!!* (Cue exit track and curtain drop...)

Oh wait! (Running back to stage) I'd forgotten....

Role call: (The following bloggers please report to tag square at once!)

JustDes: You're not getting away that easily, chap chap, my latte is getting cold :-D
Tbaby: Blogging about kamasutra on your third post, tsk tsk!!
Smothyz: I know you're insane!! Really, an absolute nutter. But poetic too!

Errryone who's not done it yet!!

Psssst!!

Helllow blogosphere!! I'm still bundu's bashing but then I just spotted this fancy schmancy thingamafuzz called a computer and decided to have a go at it, and whadyuknow, a blog post is born :-D

Now, contrary to what Kei believes, I will not blog about how it felt being the only black person on location (Read - in the whole town!) and how it felt having people coming up and touching me just to make sure I'm real. (Apparently according to them black people only exist in myths and scary bedtime stories to keep children in check, the type that are along the lines of*If you go outside in the dark, the black people will come and eat you up*)

Neither will I blog about how everyone on set pronounces "Skate" as "Skeet" so there's a whole of "Skeet skeet skeet" going around the set.... Hypothetically, realistically, technically and practically.... Seriously!!

Or even about the dancing around palm trees in colorful attire, the trademark of all indian films.

Nope, none of you will hear a peep out of me about any of that, no siree, nada, nothing, zilch and all other derivates thereof!! .... Oh wait, Ooops, did I just tell you all of that already??! Dammit! Forget you just read that!!

In other news.... Who is Loco?! What floats her boat, turn's her sukuma wiki green, and recharges her chloride exide batteries?! There is a scrapbook going around that requires some amount of honesty which is honestly going to be a tad bit tricky for me since I lie about everything! Honestly, I do!! Watch this space..... (For more tips about watching this space kindly get in touch with Bomseh :-D