Fuck Boy Ssewanyana

Outside the office and the dull, plain community college building the parking lot ran down to a patch of grass, then a copse of trees separated the campus from the highway that led to the dreary grid of suburban streets and fast food places, most of them eerily empty at this hour. He sneezed in the twilight breeze and spread his hands out with a teensy-weensy jubilatory cry of conquest

"It's a fucked-up world," He said, "Filled with fucked-up people. But I don't think you're one of them. I think those other guys were. I want to hold you because I want to hold you, not because I feel sorry for you. We have an agreement, remember? This is only the start."

“Are you serious?” Emma heaved as she skipped three steps to elude a trip from an ill disposed Styrofoam cup.

“Yeah, serious from the bone to the marrow”, Ssewanyana Daniel hissed between clenched teeth.

The past year had not been so great for her romantically. She had attempted being in an open relationship, which failed miserably. She got back together with two different men from her past, which failed miserably. She attempted to use self-help books to find love, which (you guessed it!) also failed miserably. She had been ghosted, both in the "guy stops texting me" sense and the "guy leaves the country for good" sense. It had been exhausting to try to encounter deep, romantic love, to the point that she had often considered giving up on the whole endeavor completely. But what was she going to do, not date at all? Sincerely sit around and wait for the right guy to come along? Fuck that. She was too impatient and too horny to wait, and too broke to not accept free drinks. This is where the fuckboy entered the picture.

Ssewanyana Daniel was the archetypal fuck boy- a manipulating dick who does whatever it takes to benefit him, regardless of who he screws over. He will screw over anyone and everyone as long he got what he wanted.

So Ssewanyana Daniel had bought her four drinks and this is how far his money’s worth had paid off! He was walking her past the fast food places, a cheap motel in his mind-Two ducks and a Seat, at the corner house crowning Magezi Street. Once they entered the cheap hotel room. The rest of the motions seemed to just fall in place like clockwork. She closed her eyes and her mind zeroed down on 'The Great Gatsby,' a book about the unattainable dream. She saw Ssewanyana slip into the bathroom, his dick looming ahead of him like a tow-bar. Her mind raced through the pages of F Scott Fitzgerald's classic book. One of the greatest pieces of literature of all time. A timeless classic that tells the story of a man, James Gatz, who has an undying dream, a desire for a love that he will never have. "Gatsby believed in the green light. The orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but it's no matter. For tomorrow we will run faster, reach our arms out farther. Then on one fine day, so we beat on, boats against the current, we are borne back into the past"- A closing line in the masterpiece novel, The Great Gatsby.

Ssewanya returned from the bathroom with a black, prickly condom already on his unbendable dick. The sight of him like this turned her on. She cherished the feeling of warm, oozy, goblets escape the tight lips of her womanhood down to her thighs. He loomed over her now with a look of absolute rage on his face, muscles swollen, fingers clenched—the rage of being oversexed. Ssewanyana bent over and grabbed her hair as if he could pull the come out of her, pulling her head to the side till she opened her teeth in a grimace of pain.

"Give it to me, bitch! Give it to me, you hot cunt!"

Slapp!! Whackk!! Splatt!! Plapp!!

He grabbed his cock in one hand and opened her cunt with the other and began to slap the head against her clit. His dick felt like it weighed a ton and the sound it made as it splashed into her wet trough was like a log splattering into a muddy swamp. He beat her cunt with his prick and each blow was a jolt of pleasure for them both.

Faster and faster he beat her with his cock, and Emma wailed and screamed so loud he was afraid they'd hear her at the other end of the hallway, so he quickly grabbed her rumpled panties from the chair and stuffed them into her open mouth. That seemed to be the last straw, the final indignity she needed. She wailed behind the black gag of her panties and arched her back and started to come—the big one, the soul-killer—and at that moment he stopped slapping her with his dick, pushed the head dick down with his thumb so it found her moist pink hole, and shoved his whole length into her with one thrust of his hips, right at the height of her climax.

Thirty minutes later, she was still waiting. Ssewanyana had left the room claiming he was going to the ATM. She waited on end for him to return. Later, three hours she disengaged the wait option, dressed up and sneaked out of the boarding house. She had never felt so cheap in her life. She had never felt so useless and miserable in all her life. She had never felt so small and vulnerable and yet so safe, before in her life.

Mine is Gorgeous Diana Cormac .

His face was lost in the golden hues of the twilight, his prosternum still drooping with fresh dew from a night out of Monkey Business. Through the haze of the gloom, a sketch of his muzzle was visible. His big red tongue pendulous between an array of razor-edged teeth. He was standing on mound of lake sand left over from our concrete fence construction works when Gorgeous opened the door and stared, awe struck. Doubtless, love-struck. Gucci anxiously turned his head and seized Gorgeous in a gaze that lasted a better part of half a minute. I was watching from our bedroom window and I knew instinctively that they had fallen in love.
My fiancée is mujer muy hermosa . A very beautiful woman with the body of a goddess and the character of an angel. She is truck-stop sexy and lord-have-mercy-wet. She’s got the most enchanting gaze that back in 2005 when I first saw her at Freedom Square with Joy Musimenta, she seized me and held me helter-skelter like a moth caught in a spider’s web. Although the preceding weeks after that first encounter didn’t seem particularly involving as I wasn’t able to bump into her again at Campus, she stayed in my mind vivid and recurring like a movie on repeat playback mode. Struggling for an escape, like the moth’s panic movements would only lessen its chance of survival, I dated many worthless chics with half a brain and a single butt-cheek double the size of Enanga’s head. My deep indulgence in carnal pleasures only exposed to me in its true depth how much I would never fill the emptiness in my life with infinite lips, breasts and pussies…. Pitiable women of all earthly hues submerged in their own unending feuds. Only Gorgeous could fit perfectly and expel the empty darkness that my yearning spirit was so wary about. Years later when the heavens opened and our paths crossed again, I saw in her eyes what I saw again today while she and Gucci stared. I saw love and I knew this love is what I had asked God for back in 2012 when Roy Kaka handed Gucci to me. I held him in my arms and his little fuzzy, double-coated black and brown hair wedged to my tweed DNKY jacket. That day a bond that would live through flames and canine puberty was borne. We both instinctively knew that this love that we conceived would never be full until that last, final component fell into place. I smiled as I watched Gucci approach Gorgeous with a hug. At last the final component fell into place. I couldn’t hold back anymore pent up feelings, I gave in to the bitter-sweet indulgence for I knew that our destiny had finally been curved and set out for us.
No artist with the even the most adroit and faultless skill could capture this feeling, this image, this Indulgence in a painting or curving. I resolved to try nonetheless. I chose to keep this image with me for life. I walked over to my garage that at times doubles as my workshop and I picked up a palette of natural, earthy colors and let the strokes of my brush run wild and unbridled against the taught canvas. Between each stroke of my painting brush were a million atoms of unexpressed emotions. Each stroke itself a living demonstration that love and destiny were the primal forces that drew and molded Eve out of Adam's side while he slept. As the image materialized before my etching eyes, Gucci was laying on Gorgeous’ lap, licking her unpainted cuticles. Tisha my daughter was smiling and giggling sheepishly as she drew laugher-choked breaths between intermittent hand claps. Destiny took my hand-clasped painter’s brush and the strokes grew more aggressive. A bit more chaotic. But beyond what the eye could see, an artist’s impression of love was visible. Like the writings on the wall at Belshazzar's feast that only Daniel could decipher, only me, myself and my loved ones could resonate with the message the painting carried. Today we understand the poetry of the heart, but over the courses of our lives we will tend to demystify this precious feeling more and more. We will learn about biological processes that cause specific reactions; we will learn about cultural influences on how we behave and think about love; we will learn about the psychological and physiological processes that make us fall for each other. Even though we often think of ourselves as a faithful species, we’re not the only one in the animal kingdom. Wolves, swans, gibbons, black vultures, albatrosses and even termites are just a few of those animals that find a mate for a lifetime. Mine is Gorgeous Diana Cormac .

You Cannot Censor Me!

Sir, I don’t need you to tell me when and where to pray from. No, you are not God. You are just a mere mortal. You are no better than me-we have all fallen short of God’s glory!
I don’t need you to tell me what and what not to see or watch on TV. I don’t need you to censor the information I receive. I have God-given intelligence and free will to decipher the information I receive. I will get whatever information I choose to and I will make my own intelligent independent decisions. I need you to serve the interests of the people that have entrusted you with the responsibility of that office you hold today.
You don’t have to fly those Sukhoi jet fighters over my head to assert your military might. No, owning a handful of Sukhois and a few other jetfighters’ doesn’t give you the right to violate my personal rights and freedoms. Instead, we trust you to keep those jets away and only use them to protect us from external aggression. If you must run routine tests, shouldn’t you fly over the massive Lake Victoria or any of those sparsely populated areas? I am just a man and certainly my opinion doesn’t matter-you are the THE MAN so I guess you will only do as you please.
Pastor, I don’t need you to coerce me to give a huge offering or a tithe with threats of hell and eternal damnation. I can read the Bible, I can intercede and prophesy Blessings and all the fruits of the spirit upon myself. I can give to the poor and support the work of God in ways galore. Stop acting like you are the only representative of God in this wretched generation. Instead, I need you to do the work of God and use the powers and blessings bestowed upon you with humility and the fear of God. If we the sheep must see God in you and heed your teachings and counsel, stop acting like the devil.
Aha Mr. Lokodo, I hear you are in war against pornography. Is that all there is to your Job description? Am not the judge of your performance in that office you have been entrusted with but am concerned that everyone I know thinks you are just a joke. My mind runs blank when I think about you….wait-a-minute, what was the name of that Nigerian boy who leaked Desire Luzinda nude pictures to the media? You threatend to string him by the balls(sic) and throw him behind bars? What happened? Didn’t he premier a video hurling insults at you? I was very disturbed by his lurid responses to you. And to my shock, the whole incident just was swept under the carpet. Then there was several other nudes that followed suit and the same common village barking dog(pardon the pun) barked on as the nude played havoc with the social media fanatics. Then in the season’s finale Stella Nyanza blew the plug off the whole episode of nudes. She had justifiable reasons and even the dumbest the fools in my village could somehow though in a creepy way understand that. Then you sir, said you would arrest and prosecute our Stella Nyanzi. She’s some sort of a super power in her own right, so she lashed back at you and blah, blah, blah…the Cancer machine was an issue about that time and you sir, smack in our face brought into the picture the Pornography machine worth billions? Wasn’t that rather misplaced-Like a pervert who talks about the girth of this Penis at his mother’s funeral? Is Ethics and Integrity all about pornography and leaked nude pics and videos only or is that the only role you are motivated to do? Is it sir? Wouldn’t the revered Reverand or rather Father dare advise the Uganda police, the UPDF or even the parliamentarians on their ethics and integrity Achilles heels? Of course not, instead he picks on the weak and defenseless ones, the ones that own no guns nor jet fighters. Father, these people are only victims of the circumstances. I think, the masses should be protected from such leaks. Instead of summoning Desire Luzinda and threatening her, it would have been prudent to have comforted her whilst working with her to bring the low life thug who leaked her pictures to book. Above all, we are humans and no law forbids us from taking pictures of our naked bodies either for our own gratification or for sharing with our loved ones. We should be protected in this endeavor! At the end of the day, I am just me and I don’t have the opinions that matter just as you do so just like water under the bridge, my ideas or opinions just tumble by. I must say this though, I believe you are better off preaching the word of God in a dioceses’.
I see they bought you new trucks, new motor bikes and a lot of concentrated tear gas and a lot more bullets. Am happy for you though you still sleep several notches below the poverty level. You don’t need to pollute my neighborhood with those potentially cancer-causing pollutants to deter me from joining Besigye’s defiance campaign. I am smart enough to discern what is good or bad for me. For instance, I sympathize with FDC and Besigye but I don’t support several ideas or actions they stand for. Am well cultured and civilized and my approach to challenges and frustrations defers from the ordinary brute. I will abide with the rules and regulations. I will respect authority as long as the Authority is Authority. I have no tolerance to Anarchy and this goes both ways. Therefore, my brother, my sister….Relax. Chill. Stop waving that gun in my face, take it to the armory and stash it away. It’s not necessary. Take that tear gas and store it away. It’s not required. If you need to communicate to us and you are convinced that your message is noble, step down from your high horse and we will communicate as humans and your message will be understood and respected. Brute force isn’t constructive. Dialogue is. We are one. We need each other. Lets act like it.
What happens when a formidable force meets with a tough immovable force? Besigye is Unstoppable. Museveni is Immovable. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?
Let me help you a bit here:
• An immovable object is an object whose motion cannot be changed by any force, except possibly by an unstoppable force (see below).
• An unstoppable force is a force strong enough to change the motion of any object, except possibly an immovable object (see above).
Dimensional analysis
Consider an immovable object of mass M. Mass is only an impediment to being accelerated quickly; even a tiny force can move an object of immense mass, albeit slowly. So, I don't interpret immovable to mean having immense mass. Instead, to be immovable by any finite force the object must be at the bottom of some infinite potential well. This means that it would take an infinite amount of energy to perturb the object and permanently alter its motion - something only the unstoppable force will be capable of doing. This potential well must have a characteristic width L, which is the width of the region to which the object is confined. The potential well must also have a depth V, a quantity with dimensions of energy. While the spirit of an immovable object implies that the width of the potential should be small, it is really the depth of the well that characterizes the object's immovability. The depth of the well V should accordingly be infinite, on the scale of Λ.
In non-relativistic classical mechanics, there is only one way of doing so. I must say that V ~ Λ. This is because V is the only quantity with dimensions of energy that can be formed out of M, L, and V.
Cut the long explanation short; We have a country to build, shouldn’t we stop fighting and rallying behind each other for lost causes? Shouldn’t we just all join in together and work forward for the good of the entire nation? Mr. Besigye, Mr. Museveni….stop. Let’s work together again. You did it before, you can do it again! We can’t wait forever. Come on guys!