A comfy SOFA, pickings from the Net

A comfy SOFA (Sisterhood Of Fake Avatars), pickings from the Net

I also pick up chicks off the net. Yeah, I’ve said it. I think it lends itself to one of my key strengths: the use of words. I’ve been textually active for ages now and find that it reduces interactions to their basic foundation, *Can we relate?*. The problem with a lot of face-to-face interactions is that they get distracted by other factors e.g. appearance, halitosis, squeaky vocals, bodily odorous etc. Much as these are important to be aware of, I believe the foundation needs to be strong. But I digress…

RICSIA (Right Click Save Image As)

This is one mannerless type of SOFA. As in she goes and picks an image of a hottie off the net and displays/claims it as her own. Youuuuu, be serious! How now brown cow, oh why dry fry? There’s this Ricsia I met back in 07. I used to visit her blog. My policy then with online pick-ups was that you needed to lull your prey into a false sense of safety before you struck. Never mention the cute avi or the fact that you want to meet-up upfront. Start off being aloof and build it up until she is the one suggesting the meet-up. So I did exactly that not knowing it was a Ricsia.

And the avi she had put up was burning-embers hot, sun-of-Nairobi 2011. I still get a stirring thinking about it, wuwuuu. So we agree to meet up in town. She conveniently comes late when darkness has set in. Lakini even giza couldn’t help. Kudi, I see you, duh-uh. I almost wanted to chuck a print-out of the avi and shout *Heyyyyyyy!!! This is not youuu!!! Where are your morals?????* I jikombose and decide WTH. All that phonication, textual discourse and courteous interrupters cannot go to waste. Working in her favour is that she was a 300ML (petitius laptopius). I can even venture and indulge a 500ML (medius voluptuous) maximum. Any more e.g. 1L+ (biggius kubwus), and I politely decline, siwes mek. Anyways, I decide I will literally comment on her blogspot so it’s off to ma-drinkings.

Couple of hours later and Ricsia is not displaying the tell-tale signs. No exposing her ear by lifting braids, no brushing hand against me loose-loosely, no giggling and tilting head sideways. She is a cold one this Ricsia is. I decide to resort to strategic plan B, beg drop her home and regroup. We fika her diggz and she asks “Kwani you wont even attempt to convince me to go with you home?” “Will it work?” I respond. Silence. I reverse. Silence. I start heading towards my place. We fika my diggz and she stops me at the door.

“Milo, I have something to tell you…”

Hmmmmm, I cautiously ask “What my dear?”

Ricsia: “I was sent”

Milo: “Really? By whom?”

Ricsia: “A pal of mine wanted me to come find out what kind of dude you are, where you stay and how your shag is”

Milo (Muted astonishment)

Ricsia: “But you seem like a nice guy so I thought it only fair to tell you first”

Milo (Ever focussed): “Be easy”

We ingia digz, the music is switched on and the polite drinks start flowing. She starts dancing for me. In my head I’m calculating the way this is a set-up lakini that diab is being tingishwad with talent so I’m losing focus. She invites me to join her and I readily and greedily oblige J

I quench my thirst *cough cough*

A week later, she letas the pal who sent her wuwi. So now they’re two in the diggz…

Teren teren…