Vercity: Mass (Heart-Break) Effect ... theBoyThosh

Vercity: Mass (Heart-Break) Effect ... theBoyThosh:   The heart is one of the cruelest organs in our body. It pumps lies into us and beats to remind us how sad our existence is. You love b...

Vercity: Age aint nothing but a Binary Number... theBoy Tho...

Vercity: Age aint nothing but a Binary Number... theBoy Tho...: (-: keyword is Binary :-) So, I’m 11001 years old. And I know what some of you are thinking, “Really 11001? When are you getting married?”...

Vercity: Femputing in a Man's World

Vercity: Femputing in a Man's World: *start windows* ...  ... but for women, it’s more like *wash windows* ... fellas, am I right? hahaha ... just kidding! Let’s face it; ...

Vercity: TO RANT OR REJOICE?... theBoy Thosh

Vercity: TO RANT OR REJOICE?... theBoy Thosh: A whole month dedicated to my cup of tea, but I find myself just staring at the blank 2048x1024 px canvas, stirring a few unfiltered tea le...

Vercity: Beats by Play... theBoy Thosh

Vercity: Beats by Play... theBoy Thosh: I am a nerdcore gamer, and I also enjoy my music like everyone else who now hates MTV for not playing music anymore. When I finally got to ...

Vercity: Duct taping my windows ... theBoyThosh

Vercity: Duct taping my windows ... theBoyThosh: In the beginning, there was DOS, and user looked at it and said it was good. Now we have WINDOWS. Microsoft Windows operating system, as I...

Hardly, Working Hard

Come what may, I'm out of the house by 8:30 every morning as I have a 9 to 5 job. 9 sharp, being the 1st one there, I open the windows in the office, set up my laptop, choose the best chair (early bird kinda thing), and dive head-first into work.

I open up Firefox (... what's that browser, Mozilla?). 1st tab has what am paid to do. 2nd tab is my email. The next 6 tabs are grounds for diagnosis of chronic ADD in the work environment. Although, I like to think of them as advancing my inner ninja. They range from news articles, to nerd jokes, to social networks, to "hey Google, I'm feeling lucky today".

The thing is, I actually don't feel like am working unless I have those sites to quickly switch to and switch back. Even right now, am on blogger at 9:35pm on the 1st Monday of the month, instead of sending that email order i was too lazy to draw up on Friday (it's never that serious). Without distractions at work, we lose our humanity and might as well be robots computing pi all day.

I do my job very well, that is, not too much to get brain damage, not too little to go back home with a clean shirt. I manage to stay clear of the boss-lady's cross-hairs (Lord knows she aims to injure for a couple of generations). I subtly participate in office jokes (here's one: An alcoholic walks into a company statistics presentation and says, please don't raise the bar ... *one silent cough at far side of the room*). I've even managed to share my angry birds game with the more hard-working people so as to level our job performance output.

4:37 p.m., my brain enters safe mode. Higher processing power is put on hold to accommodate for motoring skills for the journey back to my cave. It's a good 23 minutes of swiveling, doodling, whatsapping, drawing squares and rectangles on my desktop with the cursor (Fun Fact: even Mac has this piece of time-wasting), and of course, checking the time over and over and over.

Here writes: the Boy Thosh

Hello ... again ... friend of a friend! I'm crawling back on the grid after months of sole-searching ... and as you can tell by the crawling, i couldn't find any soles for my shoes (lame joke #1). It's good to be back, but don't call this a comeback. I'm finally ready to define where I fit myself in the little precision squares of the world.

So, purpose in life for me is the ultimate question, right? Procreation ... Pleading with Mother Nature to let the male species survive (too many girls being born) ... adding to statistics ... coming up with a proper ending for Lost? I always tell myself, "My parents gave me a name, and what have I managed to do with it so far?". Its a good way to either motivate or feel bad for thy self. But I choose to let it lift me up to the possibilities of making a proper stamp in this world.

Forget shoe-prints on the beach that get washed away in an instant; I'm talking about forever. When future robot virtual interfaces let you walk a mile in my shoes, I want them to give you footnotes (lame joke #2) to my success. I want my kids on their jet-packs to be going 'Whoosh like Thosh' (lame joke #3).

The first step should be to clean up my act, and I don't mean switching from shower gel to soap operas (lame joke #4). I'm talking about using my wisdom teeth to actually voice some words of wisdom to add some value to this life and not just jokes about people who can't walk. Even if it means being proud of owning the best beet farm this side of the map grid. I'm going to make sure my name means something more than just letters that sound right when put together.

beets by dwight

And with that, i give you my last lame joke (#5, as seen above). If you can't find it on Google, add it to Google!

INTUITION

Sometimes you just get it. You have that sixth sense when life throws you lemon flavored fruits. We all have it, but we don’t all use it. Right before you do something, always consult your mind. Think before you act. This is what that little voice is telling you before it grows up and leaves you:

• Something is wrong when you find your friend hiding in the closet crying instead of fapping.
• Nairobi has ... special drivers. Repeat it in your mind everyday you get behind the wheel.
• Lower the laptop volume before pressing play - we all know laptops are too low for music, but too loud for porn.
• Have two fingers dedicated to Ctrl+S in case the lights flicker. Power = Work/Time, but @kenyapower don’t care.
• Log out when someone else wants to use your phone.
• Check your fly before walking out the bathroom.
• Don’t stop to look at the bra when unhooking.
• Check for typos unless you want to know the jerks who are ready to correct you.
• Google before asking tweeps or the idiot next to you who will google it anyway.
• Shoot the zombie again just to make sure. #DoubleTapRule
• Don’t fill the cup with tea to the brim so that you can walk with it properly without spilling. With beer, it’s cool to spill ... people will applaud!
• Your car doesn’t know it’s way home. Delegate.
• Switch phone out when out to avoid drunk-texting, drunk-tweeting ... drunk-mpesaing.
• Spray air-freshener before a number 2 - because, let’s face it, you know what you ate.
• Check facebook so that you don’t forget important birthdays.
• Pee before you leave the house.
• Charge your phone before leaving the house.
• Lock the door when fapping.
• Don’t post nude pics of yourself.
• Pocket when in crowds.
• Let her win the argument – when women are happy, they let you touch them.
• Don’t let her win the argument – she’ll respect you for holding your ground.
• Consult before committing, if you’ve earned the beer-goggles award
• Drugs destroy lives, Jesus saves lives and Condoms prevent lives.

Changing the Future

After years of trying to change my future into what I saw in my dreams, I realized I was thinking too small. Why settle for one little ripple in the river of time, when I can re-shape future civilizations with the simple act of stepping on today's butterflies? So everyday its 'squish' here and a 'smack' there.
You're welcome future city of Awesomnia (a city so awesome, it never sleeps) (also TM unless I'm not the only one with Awesomdias - Awesome Ideas).

My Childhood Fears: Part 1

I’m having an imagination within an imagination, in efforts to understand where it all stemmed from. Level one finds me in a psychiatrist’s office, lying on a cream leather suede couch. He tells me to relax and think of a happy place like the ocean or the channel on TV that never gets clear so its jus a bunch of grey miscoloured scribbles. I chose the latter. He tells me, we’re going on a journey into my past; I open up my mind and imagine myself as a 6 year old (now I’m in level 2 . . . see where I’m going with this? It’s like diet inception because I’m not asleep).

It’s passed my bed time, and I’m trying to rush my brain to engage the dream sequence. Countless repositioning occurring with every cricket chirp, as the moon light seems to make the room annoyingly bright. For some reason, I’m still quite alert. Soon, I begin to drift into that fine tuned harmony of comfort, sleep and rest . . . but I’m suddenly re-awoken by a subtle thud. I lift my head and gaze straight into the direction I assume the disturbance came from . . . the closet.

My irrational fear of monsters in the closet had just been seeded, and little did I know what kind of tree it would grow into. Just as the tension started to grow, as my the boy Thosh, version 6.3 was waiting for another peculiar sound to emit from the wooden enclosure that housed my clothes, the psychiatrist gave me “the kick” by snapping his fingers, which was in synch with my phone ringing in the real world . . . and thus, I was back to consciousness, without finishing my imaginary session with the mind doctor. At least he didn’t take down my billing details (and even if he did, they would be imaginary, muhahahaha).

Ever since I was young, I feared monsters in my closet. Then suddenly in the 21^st century, all these people where coming out of the closet, and I started to wonder whether it was them I was actually fearing. Maybe I had a certain phobia towards closet dwellers and exiters.Nothing too serious though. I'm fine with them being whatever and wherever just as long as a certain radius of my proximity isn't breached.

It's not really a fear, but more of a "dumb-founded head-scratching wonder as to why scary fictional creatures from my childhood took such a form in the real world when I got older" kind of thing. I don't understand the colour, the super-powers in lifestyle improvement, and competition with puppies for adoration. And just to be clear, I'm fine with not understanding. 

I remain sad that some of my more intelligent humor goes to waste because of a simple name-share agreement. Like when I tell an idiot that, "just knowing we're in the same genus makes me embarrassed to call myself homo"