All my journalistic life, I’ve fought tooth and nail to have myself elevated to the juicy rank of editor but, unfortunately, the Tuesday on which I was born some decades ago must have been a Black Tuesday. 

In other words, all my sweat and toil in that regard has yielded naught so far. I say "so far” because I still have plenty of hope that, one day, one time, my dream will eventually bear some fruit, aka imbuto. I like imbuto, you know. 

It’s the reason I’m fresh, alert, healthy, fit as a fiddle, and firm like that wall behind you. It (imbuto) is the reason I pounced on this keyboard like a beast. Imbuto makes you so full of vibe that, you run the real risk of getting carried away and veering off topic, like I just did, if at all you’ve been following. 

Anyway, we were discussing my prospects at "eating big” or "falling in things” at my work place. This craving to eat big has got nothing to do with any burning desire to spend more time in the newsroom hustling news reporters and generally keeping them busy. 

No, no, no! I do not have that discipline. On the contrary, the part I like about being an editor is where all the press invites to major media events arrive at the reception and get channeled to the concerned section editors. 

Here is how it all works: When Senderi "International Hit” or Mani Martin or Miss Confidence is launching a new album or has bought a new ride, the first thing they’ll feel compelled to do is rush to media houses and journalists with invites to the said event. And by press invite, I don’t mean to say that they are calling up journalists to dress in their Sunday best and go sip wine and champagne in the VIP section. 

When these celebs dish out their prized invites to the press, they expect the press to reciprocate the gesture with a story in the papers, or a DJ mention for the case of radio presenters. 

Likewise, when a big company is launching a new brand or product, they want the same kind of favor from the media fraternity. So they send in their invites as well. So in the normal run of things, an editor usually has an invite to an album launch, a business dinner, networking breakfast, celebrity wedding, beer rebranding, Facebook meet-and-greet party …name it, all hidden away in their drawers or, as for editors here at The New Times, who are known to be Dot Com, in their mail. 

In fact, next time you are sending me that invite to your album launch, do so by mail, but should you insist on bringing me the traditional paper invite, do know that there are unexpected risks associated with goods- in-transit. 

Do not invite me through Facebook though. That’s below the waist, that’s taking the joke too far …taking things personal, quite literally.