You look like a player. Yes, I am talking to you. And you, lady, are a female version of a player.
You must be wondering who I am to call you a slut. I do not even know you. You are not alone in that puzzle. I get that a lot in my quest for love just free goods from the ladies. I wonder how a girl you have met less than an hour ago can be so sure about your character.
One kyana I met at Panamera gave me the dumbest answer that I believed she must have been high on shisha. Mbu by looking at my skinny jeans, boots, curly hair and beard she could tell I was a player. She even reached for my soul patch also known as ‘ka Salvador’ – the facial hair between the lower lip and the chin.
But when she looked into my player eyes, a connection was found. We ended up leaving together but never living together. It turns out she was using that player line and her cropped top, labelled ‘Don’t judge me,’ to make guys feel guilty and play nice to disprove her while she sat back and enjoyed herself. Well, that did not work for me.
Finding someone who will believe in you, trust you and do anything to keep you is every person’s dream. But that is easier said that done. My quest to find true love has seen me suffer and be called lots of names. How do you babes do that? You have known a guy for 60 seconds and even before his name gets stuck in your head, you go like, “Kirabika oli muyaaye!”
First of all that line is so local. Men are actually ger, because no matter how local you sound, he will still kulemerako (not give up) until he has got what he wants. When I first saw the Panamera chick, I looked at her damaged jeans displaying her thighs, her hair and make-up.
I imagined she had slept with all the guys she was smoking shisha with, half her Facebook friends (both male and female) and most DJs in the popular city hangouts. But I had to be g, like a man. If only they gave us the benefit of the doubt, there would be less single-and-searching 30-year-old women floating around.
Ladies, do not wait for your best days of youth to pass you by and then start looking for ‘any’ man. The same guy you mistrusted in your ‘hot’ days uses the chance to tug at your boobs, and with the help of gravity, bad things happen to them. By the time you begin to trust, your body is not worth trusting. Look here do not judge a book by its cover.
Like this guy, without even asking whether I had it or not, has just texted me mbu, “Send me Panadol’s video.” Do I look like I am the distributor of porn in this town? The said video got the singer Panadol Wabasajja and the producer, Didi, thrown into jail.
If you like me but can’t let me in because you think I am a player, it is really your loss. I would rather you hate the game, but get the player signed and train him to do your bidding. Best of luck with that then.
Source : The Observer