The Detour:

It's really unfair to females that most roads around the city are constructed with tiny multi-humps ( oba what are their real names, but you get what am talking about, er?' I won't deny that they make the road attractive that sometimes I feel like walking in the middle of the road, however, the consequences are rather disturbing. (Actually there's onl y effect I know/I’m basing on). Most times when I use the road from Ntinda to Spear motors, I have seen some women (including yours truly) protecting their rich bosoms with one hand or two, preventing them from rhythmically going up and down with the taxi movement, usually accompanied with pain equivalent to that I experience while rope skipping unless I don them in both a bra and bob-tub. Matter-of-factly, I gave up exercising because of that inconvenience. Furthermore, drivers don’t care to reduce the speed when they get to the humps. They will never have awesome chests as ours and thus have no idea what we go

You know when you are 'about' comfortable in life, you are content with what you have or can afford. Eating rice and beans every day for lunch and supper, holding one bag for three years and letting it go only when the damage is obvious to the naked eye, no new attire in your closet or a pair of new shoes (i have just taken my crafts for repair), keeping your hair for a month, sparing your deodorant and cologne on the days you won’t be leaving home, among others. And yet be content, somehow. Yes am somehow contented with my life that way, it’s the best I can momentarily afford. But, at times I ask myself, is it anything close to contentment or is it involuntarily living within my means? Only 'money' can explain that. I have a friend who borrows money in order to buy classy clothes or plait hair associated to certain celebs and that is something i have never quite understood.    When it comes to labels, I wonder, would I be fascinated with labels if I had th