BY MIKE MUTHAKA Felista’s Rug I knew there was something odd about Felista the moment I saw her. She had a slumbering fire in her eyes. If this was ‘How I Met Your Mother’, I’d say Felista had the crazy eyes. She was 19, tall, with high cheekbones that were
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA Because I’m strangely attracted to them. Well, not all of them, certainly. But I’m more likely to have a man crush on a middle-aged Brit than, say, Zac Efron. There’s just something about the old chaps. And I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is it
18BY MIKE MUTHAKA These legs know no slow pace. They are used to rapid motions, their triceps relaxing and contracting as they walk up the hilly gravel slope. These legs are black as night and tough as nails. These legs know no pedicures, and neither do they give a damn
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA On the weekend before Christmas, in the 34th minute of a game against Manchester City, with the scores level at 1-1, Crystal Palace’s winger Andros Townsend marked his 100th game with a beautiful goal. It was the kind of goal commentators would call,
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA I turned 23 in July. That afternoon, Chronixx was set to perform at KICC. I didn’t go to the concert. Instead I took a road trip with some friends, up to a little sleepy town called Kumpa, and we listened to the ‘Chronology’ album on the radio.
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA 1. She leans closer and plants a wet kiss on his cheek. Her pouty lips linger on his skin, and I almost want to walk over there and ask if she could give me one of those, wrapped in her matte lipstick. They’re a playful couple. They
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