Hi I'm Megaman. * "Hi Megaman!" JF members shout back in unison and Mwali, a dashing damsel, blows me a kiss* a lurker. I've thought about my life here and I have decided I want to quit this vile vice. I have admitted that I have a problem and so I've come to...... * AHHHGG! Kaa chini wewe" , a bald Kongosho with yellowish eyes shouts.* Growing up, in the mid-nineties, I was the kind of kid you'd only have described as good looking if you were trying be polite to my parents. My hair was brownish, my eyes bloodshot and my face and arms were covered in a collage of black and grayish chicken pox scars (spots) which 'forgot' to pack up and leave with the rest of the disease. Actually, it was partly my fault they stayed. See, when everyone stayed at home in bed and waited for the illness to heal, I didn't, instead I went out paper boat racing in rain water paddles. And while at it I got an idea that can be termed genius if not unbelievably idiotic. I decided to wash out the medicinal lotion that makes you look like some poor mans version of Casper The Friendly ghost with the bacteria, and all kinds of God knows what organisms, infested stagnant water. Sigh, to be young and smart. The lotion came off alright, but an infection got in. My rashes turned to small wounds and that's how I ended up looking like a Dalmatian. To top it all I was skinny as a rail. I take a look at my old pictures, once in a while when nostalgia burst in my head like ....... ummmmmm ..... a balloon? I know you get what I mean, alright I look at my pictures from back then and I have to admit I was ehhhhh... ugly. However, this never got me at all, sometimes I wonder why I was never teased, kids can be torturous, then I remember my big brother was a notorious bully, infact, he was THE bully. Guess I was lucky. That and the fact that I used to own a (Tommy Hawk) aluminum alloy frame BMX stunt bike is what got the kids around me blind to my looks, they had to be pretending because even I would have made fun of myself if I was any of them. All in all, my life was relatively normal as a kid, I had some friends, my parents were and still are very supportive. I never really thought that much about my appearance, except for that one time a kid in primary school, thinking his size was an intimidating factor, called me a zombie. I got my brother to hold him down while I kicked him in the groin. Yeah, I was <s> awesome </s> cruel like that. Finally came puberty and everyone started changing. Some developments were good some we thought were awful and even tried to hide like the slight tremor most boys get once they reach that time and they start talking like someone's constantly kicking them in the ball. For the girls it was boobs, some even developed a hunchback like walk until someone told them they liked their boobs and then they began walking around with three quarters of them exposed. Why are most grown men (and some women) more attracted to women's boobs than cows' ? I mean, at least you can get milk later, the owner of the former will probably be milking money from you while you are busy ....... suckling????. What's the deal here? Anyway, back to ME, ME, ME, ME.................MEEEE. As for ME, this was a good...no... a great time. while the others were busy complaining about adolescence pimples and trying everything to get rid of them even the falling for the plainly stupid but popular myth that if you got a girl to pop the zits they'd go away and never come back. I know you're wondering about lossers like me who couldn't get a girl to touch them even with a ten foot stick while they are in a protective cage, what a pity because I don't think the treatment really works if the girl is, well......., your mother. Not that it would, even if it was Jessica Alba popping them zits like champagne ...... does make and sense?Okay, I don't do that very often..... make sense. Anyway, I never got the pimples so I didn't have to kidnap a girl and force her to pop them. Yes, I would have.... seriously... I swear... okay, I was afraid of girls in the first place so kidnapping one would be even harder than getting one to talk to me. Instead the spots on my skin began to fade away and my eyes started clearing up, the sclerae regained their natural whiteness, although my hair still retained it's redish color. It still is right now, guess nothing was wrong with it, or is there? Anyway, I think it looks good and so do many people , that's got to count for something. By the time I was in form three I was completely changed, I had gained weight tremendously, not to mention that my height, which I got from my old man, shot up escalating me to the position of the second biggest person in the whole school standing at 6 feet 3" and weighing 96 kilograms, yeah I'm a behemoth, the other guy was a watchman, I don't know if he counts. I joined our school's rugby team. The main reason for this was to get back at the forth formers who tormented me during their second year while I was in form one. This was made even more great by the fact that no grudges from the field were taken to class or the dormitories and so I went on a tackling spree Rambo style, driven by revenge, at one time even breaking a player's arm and dislocating another's shoulder. I felt, for the first time, how it was to be feared. Right now I think it was stupid to thing do attempting to dismantle my own team, luckily enough we never lacked for replacements. Something else that came with the changes and was totally unprecedented was girls. When you are a bookish kid who looks like a malnourished leopard with a case of 'Smokesweedalot,' the term 'girls hitting on by girls' only resonates literally in the mind with the idea of them throwing rocks at you or the shoulder bumbs you occasionally get if an unsuspecting member of female species forgets to pay attention to where they're going. So when girls started talking to me during school festivals, as in not asking for the direction to the loo, but actually interested in knowing me, I took this as the greatest blessing ever. The Israelites couldn't have been more thankful for the manna as I was for the girls at that time. I was so thankful I welcomed any girl that came on to me, even the so not hot ones, and that way I ended up earning myself the title of a player. Starve a dog for three days and unleash it in a butchery and you'll understand my case. The most awesome thing is that it wasn't just some girls, but a bunch of them, almost a twenty hot things, I was taught to count my blessings, actually I could have made my own playboy mansion and get Hugh Heffner to sue me for copyright infringement. Okay, I couldn't because I was still living with my parents, but you get the point. I swear I had so many letters to write back I used to pay a friend to help me during free time. Right now I'm nineteen years old, a different guy from the ugly Dalmatian look alike kid or the girl crazed idiotic fourth former. I am wiser, stronger and even more good looking, at least that's what I've been told. I study medicine at the university of Nairobi, first year and I'm currently in a relationship with a very intelligent, funny and beautiful lady. However, I have we a problem, girls still hit on me and the woman I'm seeing is insecure about it. It's not my fault, because at my age girls value looks over everything else, but they wisen up when they get older, they realize that life with a man is more than looks.... wait do they really do that? Guess some do while some don't. I've tried to explain to them, the girls, that I'm in a relationship and I'd really appreciate if they respected this, but it's like trying to teach Einstein's theory of relativity to a herd of hungry retarded goats. So I'm asking, how do I deal with this issue because it is ruining my relationship with my girlfriend. It's not that I don't want to ignore the girls, I just CAN'T get my self to do it, I think it's cruel to ignore anyone. Maybe I still enjoy the attention subconsciously and should leave the young thing alone and stop putting her through this hurting, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone. Okay, I'm starting to sound cheesy now, so one line and I'll stop typing. How should I deal with this? Tafadhali nisaidieni.