Category Archives: Legends

Streetsider Resigns: A Full Report On How & Why

The Streetsider, known mostly for the darkness that engulfs a room when he walks in and for being the very famous legend who took on Enygma in the rap battle which made Enygma start wearing masks, and also for being a writer and director here at Urban Legend, is not here anymore. Okay, he’s not here in office right now but he has also formally resigned.

He is known for crazy stories like this and for disturbing, stop-you-are-killing-me-top-tens like this and this and for hundreds of other incisive articles. We sent out a highly-trained, specialist investigative team to google what happened.

Streets

The Legendary Streetsider kills the camera with nothing but bare hands. And face. Although we wanted the chicks & he just jumped in.

Agent Sleek here

I walked into office quite early. The first thing that hit me was that the belly-dancers who greet us as we walk in weren’t in position; strange. Then I saw a trail of goo on the floor…a trail leading up to Streetsider’s office. My Sleek sense started tingling.  I withdrew my weapon of choice, my left fist, from my pocket.  I kicked Streets’ door in in time to find him being led to an orb of light by fourteen aliens. I know they were fourteen because I asked them to get in line so I could count them. He said they’d paid him top dollar to teach them how to molomolo. It is this fancy gyration used to win International recognition. In one bleep, he was gone.

Detective Ivan here

I always suspected that dude was unstable. In fact, the first time I started thinking this was about the time I handed him my drink and he tripped right after. That and the fact that the letters in his name actually spell ‘Unstable’. Of course, that does not really answer the question of the ‘where’ does it? For that I had to go around questioning more of the usual suspects, and turned up nothing. Besigye denied ever walking with The Streetsider and all the popular streets claimed that he was no longer lurking by their sides. It was baffling to say the least. For a split second I even wanted to consult with a higher authority, but you know how it is with consulting high people, you can never get a word in. I seem to be digressing more and more. Instead of concerning ourselves with strange disappearances, what we should concern ourselves with is what this means for the country. For instance, will people switch from grasshoppers and turn to locusts? Will hips start lying? There’s a ridiculous amount of ‘more’ appearing in here, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. In fact, let me graciously hand over to the next capable person.

Coporo Erique reports

I always knew he had a thing for the chick who sells mandazi just outside the office gate. It’s only now that I confirm it. We don’t allow relationships at work for the sake of national security and resigning was the only way he was going to make it work with her. Either that or she had to start selling mandazi outside another office gate and risk losing a great deal of customers. You know this economy is not mandazi-friendly. Most people prefer sumbusa, rolex, marriage bill and the occasional katogo. Personally, if you brought a chick who sells katogo here, I’d probably also resign.  So yeah, Street’s resignation is a mandazi resignation.

Baz Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. here

I don’t know why everyone is looking at me like that. I didn’t do it, okay. Yes, I have always been jealous of his steez, and the fact that he can shoot bullets back into the gun caused me no small amount of nuggu, yes, I have consulted with his enemies and haters to find out what we can do to, to plot a way forward, yes, I even hacked into his Facebook account and sent Margla Da Dancehall Queen a friend request on his behalf, in the hope that things will take their own course. But I did not destroy Streetsider. I could not. Nothing can. Ela just know you will hear from him again. Probably on the BBC or something.

And finally, a last word from the last ninja standing, The Streetsider

Last Street

Everyone knows I am as hard as constipation. That, and that only, is the reason why I am not going to allow this ka-tear that is threatening to pop out of my eye to make it. And if it does, that is why I going to suck it back into my eyeball by reverse osmosis. (As the convict said when they asked him why he was crying at his mother-in-law’s wake when everyone knew he was the one who had killed her, “what is good enough for the bullet is good enough for the tear.”)

Now as to the ‘how’ I have resigned, the answer is simple.

Aliens.

(yes, Sleek was right)

As to the ‘why’, I could say a lot but tell nothing. Some decisions make themselves and this was one of them. There is no real answer, if they brought Jennifer Musisi here and she fixed me with one of her stony eyeballs and demanded an answer I still would just present her with three and a half chapters of stammering only.

Maybe the aliens have the answer. Hmmm?… (shrug)

Stay tuned to ULK for all the jokes and laughs you need to get you through the day, the night, Christmas, your job, your break-up, tear gas … It was a whale of a time (as the wall clock protested when they asked it why it was blubbering)

This is the one who was once called Streetsider sighing out.

<<sigh>>

Goodbye.

Women’s Day Special: The Greatest & Worst Women Alive

It was on March 8 60,000 BC that God created the first woman and that is why we take this day off each year to reflect on Woman’s contributions to society.

Some women are awesome. Some suck. Because we don’t want to discriminate, least of all on Women’s Day, we are going to recognize both the awesomest and the lousiest women in our special women’s day post.

 

The Greatest Woman Alive

My nomination for the World’s Greatest Woman is Jennifer Mu$i$i aka Jenny From The Block aka J-Mu.

One day she was just making cakes, and the next she was earning all of the money to chase the socks, safi and ganja sellers off Bombo Road, shouting “Get eradicated, your filthy bastards!”

You may say her heavy-handed Kim Jong Illish tactics were unfair, especially now that you have to go all the way to the park to buy Chinese underwear, but just know that it is thanks to her that there are no rolex stalls outside Diamond Trust all along that road up to BOU. It is only the timely intervention of the Mighty Musisi that saved us. I know we all love rolex, but that stuff is not hygienic.

 

A Ugandan man attempts to manufacture a watch

The Worst Woman Alive

My nomination is Lady Gaga. The reason is obvious, but I’m going to first go over the objections you are going to raise.

“Oh she makes great music.” So? Who doesn’t? Even LMFAO make good music. Doesn’t mean they’re not the most gonorrhealistic worms that ever infected the rectum of music.

 

The Greatest Woman Alive

I salute Bad Black. No, no. That doesn’t mean that she has me standing at attention, but I recognize her contribution to our little landlocked country. Not many Ugandan ladies would go out of their way to buy people drinks, but Bad went the extra mile and made it rain in the club. Well done!

So what if she used her body to make money? Unlike you, the government can’t tax her income. That there is as innovative as it is shrewd.  Bad Black Brought Bleaching Back! Badness!!

History has shown that we evolve backwards {dorky spectacles, short shorts, and Uganda’s economy…} Bad has rejuvenated the Colour Separation Movement.

 

Bad Black before and after bleaching

The Worst Woman Alive

My nomination for ‘eh-eh’ woman of the year is that girl from the Sukuma advert on telly. I wanted it to be someone from the sexual network ads, but never has sending an sms looked so unappealing.

That ad comes on and I quickly drop my phone lest I start doing “the dance”… you know the one. I do not know her personally and it’s very likely I never will, but anyone that can take texting and turn it into what must happen when the “I need a distraction while I wait for the cubicle in the loo opens up-dance” and “Ugandan video sex appeal” meet and have a baby does not deserve any credit.

On the plus side, “Mwana, ndi wano nsukuma” has taken on a whole new meaning…

 

The Greatest Woman Alive

Rihanna Nakimbugwe.

No, it’s not what you think. We broke up. The reason for my nomination is different.

When a woman leaves Barbados in Kalerwe, boards a plane to America and takes a boda to studio just to record an announcement asking people to help and tell her what her name is, you can blame it on farming in China and let it pass.

But when people start singing and dancing to the announcement instead of calling her to pass on their condolences and read her what’s on her birth certificate, you know she forgot to move with her clothes. Respect to all the women who wear clothes that are still in the larva stage of growth.

 

Rihanna displays her torn nursery school uniform

The Worst Woman Alive

Masts are tall structures designed to support antennas for things like television and radio broadcasting. They are among the tallest man-made structures and are constructed using heavy steel, reinforced concrete, fiberglass and wood.

You know where I’m going with this, right?

With these construction materials, mast assembly requires so much dedicated labour that it takes a team of not less than thirty strong men aided by hefty Class A machinery and Straka to assemble just one adolescent mast.

Former Cabinet Ninja for Presidential affairs, Masiko Roko Construction Kabakumba disassembled and reassembled one single-handedly. Now that’s a bad girl right there. My nomination for Worst Woman Alive.

Respect to all the female mast uprooters in the world. And the women doing master’s degrees.

 

Sleek

The Greatest Woman Alive

That enterprising, go-getting, take-no-prisoners woman who after downing the guy’s drinks all night asks him to drop her in Nabbingo. At 5:00 A.M. You are a true hero. You fuel the economy.

Oh oh oohh teacher me. Also, that lady who goes and takes all her photos with one limb sticking out. She lets so many men out there know that the power is in their hand.

The Worst Woman Alive

That woman who goes to the first date with three of her buddies. She’s letting the guy choose a position on the sexual network.

 

Erique: The man wasn’t at ULK headquarters because he was doing a much greater service to his woman in her honour. Bless you, Streets. You’ve truly represented and fought for the honour of all men. May your farts never stink.

From the entire team at ULK, we wish all women the greatest of celebrations. It better be a public holiday. That’s a threat.

 

Maurice Kirya and Em live on the Lounge at Sanyu FM.

Maurice (aka Mo-Reese) Kirya and Em (aka still “Em”) are presenting on Sanyu. The Lounge. An experiment in switching things up, they say.

Background

  • Sanyu is a popular radio station.
  • Em is a presenter on it.
  • Mo-Reese Kirya is a folkish neo-soul guitar totin sex symbol.

Hi. I’m Baz, and my colleague is Sleek and we are going to afflict you with incisive media expert analysis of this event as it unfolds.

We tune in when kanye West is singing a song for the Douchebags. West fades out and the duo start talking. Mo-Reese says he knows a lot of Douchebags. Heh heh.  I bet you do, you guitar-totin’ sex symbol, you. Heh heh. Seriously, how much tail does it take to be Mo-Reese Kirya? Em said she does not approve of listeners who go around gallivanting on the sexual network but from what I have heard about Mo-Reese, the guitar-totin’ sex symbol, there are a lot of women out there, many of them even underage, who would get off the sexual network if they could get off on Mo-Reese.

This is MoReese

I am trying not to sound as insanely jealous as I actually am, I mean, he’s really a decent chap, but I hate Mo-Reese guitar totin’ sex symbol Kirya.

(Commercial).

I swear Em has put the boy on the spot and demanded that he tells her which man she thinks is hot. This cannot end well.

This is Em.

Mo-Reese tries his best: Em asks, “Don’t you think TI is awesome looking?”

Mo-Reese: “I like his suits.”

But in the end she has given him a list and he has to give each one a rating, and finally concedes that Maurice “Mo-Reese” Chestnutt, Taye Diggs and a fellow called Jason from a movie called Two Can Play At That Game are hot hunks in his humble opinion. No homo, I guess.

If they can tag-team, so can we. Over to Sleek.

Sleek:  Now they are playing ‘Grenade’ by Bruno Ems. “I’d eat a greeenaaade for ya. I’d shag in the raaaiinn for yaa.” The boy belts and belts. Then Mo Reese pauses the song and starts to speak over it, giving us acapella.

(get interrupted by mail man at ULK offices saying he’s brought in fan mail from Racheal Kay)

Listening again: Emm is asking about how many girls Mo Reese has been with. He pauses then he says “None”. Then Ziggy Dee calls in to ask them to play for him a song by Celine Dione.

Baz: At this point, like Kanye, I grab the mic from Sleek.

What? He said None?

You cannot understand how pissed off this makes me. I remember a guy (not me, some chap I knew) who was trying to impress this babe. So he took the girl to the MoReese Kirya experience, hoping that she will see how deep and exotic his tastes in music are and land for him. It was working well. She was all feeling the guy, all the way from Cafe

Pap up to Rouge. He even gave himself a hi-five. If you don’t know how one self-fives, ask Barney.

Then they reached.

Then MoReese got on stage.

Chick even forgot who brought her there. She ran to the front to join the gaggle of screaming groupie chicks and left him to go home and self-five in another way.

My point is that if Morees isn’t being very very very promiscuous, I am going to kill him.

Sleek:

Mo Reese: “Floetry is my the best girl group I’ve gotten with in all time…” (sic)

Em: Please call in and advise Mo Reese on his love things…

We are onto you you two….We can hear the guitar strings in the background as Mo Reese adjusts himself in his seat. Turns out he wants to break into Mexican folk song but Em is stiffing him. Em, don’t stiffle the guy, let him let it rip.

They are now talking about Love Advice. Somebody has sent a letter in to complain. Oba was our Agony Doctor’s email offline? Why don’t they ask us?

Herman wrote in and said his chick won’t let him go out to have his ME time with the boys. He says this is not right. The woman should get off his bumper and let him go out and chill with his boys. A caller called in to ask for a song, but Em offered him the finger. Very politely. I don’t think he even realized that he had been told to sod
off. Em has dope skills as a presenter.

On his bumper

Sleek: He took it well, the caller. He went off and said bad things about the hair of the girl next to him at work. Wama Fatuma, your hair is fine, that guy was just not happy about the finger he received. Finger reception is hard.

Now they are playing Whitney Houston, and Maurice keeps pausing the music to sing the high notes for her. He can really hit those high notes. He keeps saying ‘Crack is whack’ and then he goes even higher.

Mo Reese: I love John legend,..he is one of the best guys in the world…ED: No homo
Em: And he is good looking ya? (poke…poke..the real one)
Mo Reese: you really know how to pull my leg don’t you Em…(cheeky pat on the back, we can even hear it on radio)

Mo Reese has been laid-back throughout the show, letting Em take the lead. He’s playing it safe, sticking to the fence even when asked direct ( and potentially revealing) questions. Wise move.