The Best Stew Ever

I was on kitchen duties recently so I decided to cook a big meal of rice, beans, stew and chicken. I boiled the rice and beans simultaneously and naturally the rice was ready before the beans, I put it down and started boiling the chicken. In no time the beans was ready too so I put it down and started making the stew.

Everything about the preparation of the stew was on point, all the seasoning went into the pot at the exact time I wanted, I didn’t forget to put salt, pepper or any of the things I normally forget to put until it’s too late and I was already eating the food. The aroma from the pot was heavenly and must have infiltrated every room in my apartment. I was sure this stew was going to, as the kids say, bang.

At this point I thought, what’s the one thing that’s missing but if gotten would make this meal really awesome? banana. So I wore a pair of trousers and off I went to buy banana from la fruiteria opposite my house. When I returned my stew was ready and raring to be eaten.  I washed my hands and did what I do best; multi-task. I carried the pot of awesome stew on one hand and picked up the frying pan with the other hand and then. BANG!!! It happened. It fucking banged. Literally On the fucking floor.

My hands were slippery from been recently washed, the stew pot slipped out of my hand and everything changed. And so the worst stew ever made in the history of humankind lay on the floor and stared into my eyes with the audacity of Tuko Salamanca when he is pissed off. I wanted to shout but I couldn’t produce any sound, I must have only managed to mouth the words “what the fuckity fucking fuck!”. My next thought was to pick up my phone and call Mr Kaplan to come clean it up but then I quickly realized I wasn’t exactly Raymond Reddington and it may have been red liquid on the floor but it was definitely not blood.

 Turns out wearing trousers to go buy banana was the best decision I made all day, I escaped with no burns. After about 10 minutes of mopping the floor and generally cleaning my kitchen I made another stew and ate my meal. Now, this second stew may not have been the best stew ever made but it sure did taste like it is. It banged in my mouth.

The Church and I.

Yesterday, a friend asked me why I no longer attend church on the regular and in answering her question I realized I may have fallen out of love with almost everything that makes up the physical entity we know as churches these days.

I realized I no longer want to be around people who spend more time talking about good deeds than actually doing good deeds, I no longer want to sit among a congregation that donates millions and billions to their pastors while half the parents in there can’t afford quality education , feeding, and/or shelter for themselves and their children. I no longer want to sit and pally up with people who judge and condemn others based on who they choose to love and the type of sex they choose to have, what they choose to wear or merely having the effrontery to belong to a different denomination or religion.

I no longer want to hear sermons from people who got filthy rich off the back of offerings and tithes and then built schools 90% of their congregations can’t afford. Creations who are happy to be adored and receive the praise and worship meant for the creator. I’m tired of hearing sermons about how to become wealthy, how to allocate wealth, how to pay tithes and nothing about been contented, how to become a better human being, how to help one another and how to love one’s neighbors like oneself.

I don’t want to be around people who push others away from God because they commit a different sin from them, wear different types of clothes or listen to different genres of music. Petty people who snipe at each other at the slightest provocation because their pastors and priests have slightly different interpretations of the scriptures. People who say my prayers are not effective because I’m not shouting my head off and disturbing my neighbors at midnight or on top of some mountain somewhere, people who insist God won’t answer my prayers because I don’t give him/her money through them. I’m especially tired of all these people and their bull excrement. It’s a shame they dominate churches everywhere these days and there seems to be no escaping them.

 You’re probably wondering why someone would choose to stay away from people because they kinda choose to stay away from other people. Well, here is the thing; I stay away from the church in the comfort of my house which belongs to me but these churches push away the very people who own them. They forget that the church is for sinners just like hospitals are for sick people. 

Churches should welcome sinners just like hospitals welcome the sick, wounded and dying. No doctor or nurse rejects a patient because their ailment is above their level or outside their field of expertise rather they give the help they can then refer to them to better nurses, doctors and hospitals. If we are all sons and daughters of God like we claim then it makes no sense for us to push our brothers and sisters away from our parents just because we think they annoy our parents in a way that is different from the way we do. Especially since our parents love and forgive us all equally.

Birthday Weekend Shenanigans

WHAT. A. WEEKEND!

Last week Thursday was my birthday. Normally I would go out and have drinks with friends, have a quiet dinner/lunch with the person I’m dating or my closest friend at the time, but this time I decided to do something a bit different. I had a little eat-drink-dance-have-fun-with-friends-until-you-pass-out thingy in my house, a mini house-party if you like.

I’m not much of a crowd person and considering the size of my living room I decided to invite the lowest number of people possible. You think you don’t have many friends until you have to invite only 9 people to your birthday party. Anyway, after much back and forth I made a list and stuck to it.

                     A couple of friends brought bilola and Spanish omellette. Tasted heavenly.

 Too bad this is the best shot I got of my chocolate cake. I was having too much fun to be concerned about pictures.

Squad

As you can see from our sweaty bodies in this pic above, we were already hours into drinking, dancing and eating before anyone remembered it would be nice for us to have a group photograph.

It was an awesome night and I loved every single second of it.

I woke up the next morning, sunday, with a sore head. I didn't actually want to wake up early but a couple of friends had arranged a trip to the seaside as a birthday present to me and since my mama didn't raise no bitch I woke up at 8, carried my sore head(and body) into the bathroom, cleaned up, packed a backpack headed out.

Ready or not...

I didn't regret it as we visited a part of the sea I had never been to, saw a lot of nature, swam in the sea, tried to dive for a few seconds(there is only so much gallons of salt water a grown-ass man can gulp before giving up), had a good time with friends.

not a bad view for sore head

shoes in the water

We had to wear shoes while swimming and diving to avoid stubbing toes or any such injuries because this part of the sea is very rocky. I'm not sure I stepped on any even or sandy ground while inside the water.

The greatest

We went to a nearby town for a late lunch of seafood and then headed home. I came back home to a bottle of red wine courtesy of my neighbor(whom I didn't even invite to my party, though I sent some cake). Lovely. And just when I thought my weekend couldn't get any better I discovered I didn't have to work on monday because PUBLIC HOLIDAY. Like my English friends would say "If Carlsberg made weekends...".