They have nothing on me!…..
A little while back there used to be a dj group, Stratchaholics. Pinyee was the lead while Styles was a back up or just a lucky groupie. Adrian was still dope as today and so was John and the Homeboyz outfit. DJ Zaq my favorite hip hop DJ locally cool as ever. Another of my favorite because he was spinner at a club we frequented in my high school days, DJ Brayoh. A little braggadocio here. None of these boyz could have out done me during my little stint. All combined, I would have put them to shame at scratching. I guess you never knew that huh!
Afghan Camels
Back in the day when a mobile was fashionable, when you couldn’t send a text to a friend on the rival service provider, when Kencell couldn’t sell you running shoes just for the day of the race, when it was hip to forward text messages, there used to be a text that did rounds and went like “may the fleas of a thousand Afghan camels infest the bum of….blah blah blah.” It was a good joke back then. Well I don’t know whose day I had fucked with but the fleas did infest and not just my bum.
Am tingling baibe….
I had just finished my day at the Sunday Car Bazaar and my system felt some nicely brewed tea would kick-start a weary brain. I settled for a good measure of Cinnamon tea at this really lovely place. The tea gives the tongue this nice sting that sends sort of wave to the brain that is so sensational, relaxing, soothing…….Thereafter I got home in half an hour and started to get alil itchy. I didn’t take much notice….no wait….I actually did and took a nice warm shower to cool off. I didn’t have dinner I felt just fine.
Taking the throne
Come Monday at cock-crow, I couldn’t sleep any more. I waited for the quarter to six alarm just to switch it off for the first time without hitting the snooze. I was early not because I had a terrifying dream or even a wet one for that matter. I was early because the itching said “Get ya ass up GREAM! And get your scratch on! Dethrone Adrian, Homeboyz, Zaq & Scratchaholics!” Another shower, got ready to work and hit the road.”
Strip show part one
After an hour or so in the office pushing paper work and likes, the itching got worse. The more I scratched the more I wanted to end the itching with more scratching. It got to a point where I locked the door, closed the tinted windows, removed jacket, shirt, vest and got my scratch on. Trust me that shit is not funny. Not when you strip almost to your bare and the only difference between you and a ticket to a birthday suit is a singular clothing round your loin!
Causes
I mastered some manhood, putting back my clothes checking each piece for the invisible millions of fleas of thousands of Afghan camels. Sat down at my computer and I remember whispering “Take this thing away Jesus. Whatever it is, I have had enough of it!!” as did a google search on allergies and itching. Mind thinking it must be the new soap. But not. I had it for a week. May be the new roll-on. *pause that thought*. I hadn’t used it on the jabulanis or the chin. The soup at Grand Regency on Biashara Street. Yes, there are these two restaurants on that street called G&R. Me and my boyz called them Grand Regency a while back. Just for swagger. No. Couldn’t be the soup! I had had that thing for years. It came down to the last thing I had. The tea! The stinging Cinnamon Tea I had so enjoyed.
I promise! I haven’t left out a thing. I swear I didn’t touch that babe or her associates that gave my boy crabs a while back and he had to trim his amazon to its entirety and spray on the coolant that is Mortein Doom. I bet you thought that thing only kills Louis the pest! Which reminds of this other guy who had to get rid off those little buggers by going naked in a open field, on a real hot day, spread a good number of The Standard pages, stood over the pages, legs apart and a can of paraffin. No! You don’t think he set himself and his loving ones on fire do you? He took a sponge, dipped it into the paraffin, then gave a nice spread on the nether and proceeded to watch as the gazetti turned into sort of a blackboard. He has been a free man ever since. I guarantee.
Eeeh, where were we? Ahhh! The good old google search results. The more I read this stuff, the more scary and the more I realized I needed to get to a clinic and fast.
The Clinic & the Cynics
I am sure the chaps in line ahead of me at the clinic must have thought I had withdrawal symptoms of crack or something more potent. I could tell by how they looked at me as I scored a distinction in tearing myself up. They either have had experience with crack or they watch too many movies. Those were not piteous looks. Trust me. I know skeptical when I see it. I have seen it in the movies. Am sure you too would have thought the same. What do you make of a guy scratching his face like he had acquired a colossal crab infestation running from his beard to his eyebrows for giving head to a thousand Modern Green chips fungas? I don’t know if those nasty little ones get into eyebrows. I will google and let you know. I didn’t care much the disapproving look on the female doc who examined me. She must have thought to herself “oh oh! Here comes a chap who knows how hug and caress himself” the moment I walked in. She quickly wrote a prescription after explaining my case, getting me scared. May be this thing is communicable.
Bend over strip tease
After diagnosis, part of the prescription was to have two injections and dozens of tabs to take thereafter. Last time I had injections was 9 years ago. I remember clearly because I got 7 of them one for each a day. I hated showing of my bum and hated it even more because I couldn’t sit for days seeing the treatment was for a boil infestation on the same bum. But never before had I been so proud to show it off to this female nurse like I was about to for these two injections. I didn’t even think of asking for her lotion to oil my bum just in-case it was ashy. I just wanted this scratch thing to go! Pants to the floor, and ….I leaned on the ka little bed and she was done as quick as the itching came knocking. Bending over would have been plain gross. Come oooon!!
The Jerry moment
I didn’t take the prescription immediately. It said 1×2 and 1×1, I figured the injections would do till evening where I would set on the meds. Wrong! I was holding on to myself like Jerry on Boston Legal. Well, I didn’t get to whoop like Jerry, but I did hop onto the first Citi Hoppa that came along. Guy seated next to me wondering why I had to hold my nose to scratch it, groping my chevron mustache, all the way up the sideburns, to the dome. Shit was serious, you guy! He must have thought it was my way of holding a massive pee or something. I too would love to know if it would work. Next time I meet him, may be I will ask if he tried it.
The Peculiar Kenyan
I did run into a quack who went on and on or rather quacked how he too had a similar condition and he had to jipox into a nylon gunia naked so as to spread the scratch evenly overnight as he waited to get to clinic where he was treated for minyoo. For a moment, I wanted to take off the skin like Iniesta did his football jersey after scoring the world cup winning goal and forcibly have him wear it as I try to get back onto minding my own business. I had to get a 5th or 6th opinion on this so I called my boy Joe, a pharmacist, phone held and pressed between the ear and the shoulder, hands onto my acquired stratchaholic mode. Joe read to me two drugs that I had to get and take instantly. The same drugs I had in hand from the clinic.
They Lived Happily Ever After,
That phone call was my savior. I didn’t even bother to get water. I had salivated enough for these two tiny tabs. Within 15 minutes and I can confidently tell you that they were fifteen minutes, I got my skin back PAP! And nothing feels good like it.
That, my dear friends, sums up GREAM’s first ever experience of what an ALLERGIC REACTION feels like.
Nothing feels as good as having your sanity.
Put it Down – Redman (Now Playing)
