Journeyman Reads the Book of Pook




The bus rumbled to a stop with its back still jutting out onto the road like an ass that’s too big for a chair. A conductor bundled Journeyman inside and he stood up near the door with his hand on a seat to keep his balance. Journeyman crinkled his nose at the mixed smell of 21 different deodorant sprays from 30 different people then cleared his throat to get their attention. They ignored him so he cleared his throat again and stepped forward with his hands open wide.

“Good people of Nairobi! I stand here today to preach to you from a book so powerful that it has shaped worlds, formed relationships and resulted in countless notches on the proverbial bedpost.”

The people in the bus ignored him, assuming that he was just another preacher who couldn’t wait till Sunday. Journeyman pushed on in spite of their indifference, confident in the strength of his message.

“You who ignore my words are the ones who need to hear them the most! You are the kind of men to put woman on a pedestal and make it so that she is the most important thing in your life. It is you who shall suffer the most at the hands of the demon that we call bitch! And it is you will be powerless to stop her from turning your life into an endless trip to the salon, the place that she goes to drown all those around her in nonsensical chatter.

“But all is not lost! For you have the power to reclaim your manliness and set yourself back on the glorious path of Don Juan. It is not too late for you, brother. It is never too late to read from this, the Book of Pook, and learn game.”

Journeyman pulled a bound spiral of papers with a big, yellow smiley on the front from his bag and shook it forcefully in the direction of the other passengers.

“Read this book, learn its secrets, apply its knowledge and see how women will revere you. But you must have courage my sons, the courage to leave behind any woman who disrespects you, safe in the knowledge that she can be replaced. In the words of the Wizened Masters Hato and Wabwire, “The most beautiful one is not yet born!” Believe this to be true and never again will you suffer from the debilitating effects of one-itis. Believe this to be true and woah-man shall prostrate herself before you in order to gain your favour. For once you realize that you are the prize then she shall see it as well and become the pursuer. Now bow your heads my DJ brothers and say this prayer with me to the Gods of Game: ‘I am the prize, the catch and the best that a woman can hope to have. Chasing women is not my priority for my mission is my priority. This is not to say that I shall not desire woman for woman is beautiful but I shall not let that desire control me.

“’Never again will I buy flowers or take her on dates in an attempt to buy her love, but use those favours as rewards for good behaviour so as to keep her loyal and submissive. I invoke the spirit of Casanova to bless me with strength so that I may forever resist the shackles of wedlock and with the good fortune to never have a condom break or believe her lies when she says that she is on the pill and then end up in the dreaded trap. Make all women humble, oh mighty Gods of Game, and banish all 6s who believe that they are 10s to the barren wastelands of spinsterhood. In Pook’s name we pray, Amen.’”



NB- The Book of Pook is available as a free download which you can get here.


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