Save the Spam

February 3, 2008

And so, just like Jesus, I have returned!

The 411:

I reached a point at work, and in my life, where I felt completely blah. Only those who have felt it truly know the blah feeling. Anyway, I decided that I was going to quit this dead-end job. And I went to my boss and I told him that I was quitting. He suggested I take a vacation. And so I thought “okay, I’ll take a paid vacation and if I want to quit afterwards I will”. And so I took a month off. I was stuck here in Kuwait the whole time, which sucked monkey balls, but it was a vacation nonetheless. During this month, I decided that even though this job is retarded (TIMMY!) atleast I get paid decently for the shit I do, my coworkers are pleasant enough, and I can fuck around on the internet. Also, it would be really hard to ragga3 unemployment on a resume or grad application. And so I decided that I would give it another go.

And so, today is my first day back. Everything is pretty much the same, except there is a new Kuwaiti guy working with us now, seems alright. And the work is the same retarded crap, as in it is literally THE SAME. The stuff I had been working on more than a month ago is still not complete. How ridiculous is that?

One important thing has changed: I now have realized that this is a job and not a career. I know that the only reason I’m here is because I need to be. I don’t need to love it, I need to bear it, atleast for now anyway.

And with my job comes the return of my blogging.

Wow, and with that I have suddenly come up with the name of my new blog (I’ve run out of space on this one, remember?) :

And so my new blog is born –

The Chronicles of Random: Resurrection

There’s nothing on there yet, I’ll let you know when its up and running….

Anyway, I started this post with the intent of discussing two things.

First, spam. No, not the processed meat in a can, I mean the crap that gets sent to you via email or as blog comments (blam) trying to sell you junk. You know, “Breast Enhancement Cream: Guaranteed 2 cups in 2 hours!”

Why is it that most of the spam you get is sexual? Porn links, penis enlargement, breast enlargement… etc.

The porn links I might understand, but who would buy some mysterious cream that makes your body parts swell off of the internet? I wonder how many people actually buy that stuff online.

I have to admit that I actually found one blam funny. It was really long and it started off as usual:

“Nude girls sex lolita orgy oral anal blonde pussy gay underage nude midget….”…etc

But then it took an unexpected turn:

“dick threesome refrigerator television radiator….”

That’s some weird ass porn if it includes a radiator and a refrigerator. I wish I’d saved the spam, but alas, I did not.

Now, secondly, I’d like to discuss this whole whole plan to segregate the private schools and universities: WHAT THE FUCK WRONG WITH THIS FUCKING COUNTRY? This country is exponentially regressing.

I don’t agree with segregation in public schools (its the basis of why most of the guys and girls here are so fucked up), but I guess since I’m not paying for it I have no right to complain. But if I pay for my kids to go to a co-ed school, what fucking right do you have to say otherwise? If you don’t want your kids to go to a co-ed school, don’t fucking send them there. Why do my kids have to suffer because of your lame-ass religious issues?

I’ve always thought this shit was ridiculous. I remember when I was in middle school my private co-ed school had a barbecue one evening on a weekend. It was nothing especially interesting, there was bbq, food, and music. I think 3 people may have danced in total. None of them within 10 meters of each other and each surrounded by their friends (of the same sex).

The next thing we hear at school is that some kid told his religious parents that there was a party at school. And that his mom went to the ministry of education and complained about the sin that was occurring at the school. What the fuck? You have the audacity to send your kid to a co-ed school and then complain about an after-school party? I would understand if her kid had to attend mandatory exotic dance classes at school, but this was a completely optional afterschool activity. You have no right to go and ruin it for everybody (which she did because the ministry made a big deal about it). Bitch.

All of the people that force these retarded laws upon us are bitches! Bitches, the lot of you! Fucking useless government and retarded general population… *mumble**grumble*.

The government passes shitty laws and then placates the people by giving them shit like unnecessary pay raises or oil money gifts. And then thanks to the extra cash, which everybody knows is out there, prices go up. And then the people start to complain. Fucking idiots. Its simple economics. But seeing as segregating schools is the priority for the ministry of education I’m not surprised that most people are not educated in the basics of economics. Its so sad that education is the last thing that the Ministry of Education is actually concerned with.

I would really love it if somebody could point out something that the government is actually doing well. I like the social security system but when I think of the millions of retards that it supports, that basically don’t do shit all their lives, it would probably be better if it were different. I also always liked the fact that the government supplied free healthcare. But once you actually see the grimy insides of public hospitals and how fucking unorganized and inefficient they are I think that that the government can take the healthcare system and shove it. I’ll leave out the horror stories about death and mistreatment by incompetent and overworked public doctors. I’ll tell you a simple tale about me trying to go see an endocrinologist. I have to go to the mustawsaf who will schedule an appointment for me to see an internal medicine doctor in 3 months and then, God-willing, that doctor will give me an appointment 3 months from then to see an endocrinologist.

6 months… lovely.

This country is going to the shitter. Bitches.

And on that sweet note I bid you adieu!


Wooohoo! It’s Thursday bitches!!!!! I feel really good today. Even though I probably shouldn’t because somebody that works here just passed away yesterday. Allah yer7ama. And what’s really bad about it is what I thought when I first heard; “I wonder if they’ll give me his office”. I know, I know, I’m bad. But it isn’t my fault. First of all, the fact that I’ve been working here for 7 months and they still haven’t technically given me an office makes me feel that I need to take advantage of whatever opportunity comes my way. They’ve jaded me. I mean for God’s sake, I’ve been working here for 7 months and only today did they give me my own calculator. And I work in a motherfucking financial institution, a calculator is supposed to be the first thing you get. For 7 months I’ve been clicking away on my Windows calculator. I know I could’ve brought my own calculator, but I think that would’ve just increased my output and efficiency and they obviously don’t want that around here OTHERWISE THEY WOULD’VE GIVEN ME A FRIGGIN’ CALCULATOR.

Anyway, death and calculators aside, I feel pretty good today!

I think I would feel a little better if I ruin your days…. MUHAHAHAA!!! So I’m going to tell you a little story about myself and then lecture you (the lecture basically applies to females and some gay men):

People who know me know that I’m not exactly physically vain. i.e. I never ever put on tons of make up, most of the time I don’t wear any makeup at all, I don’t insist on wearing the latest fashions, I basically try to stay kinda simple and zen. A couple of months ago I got a huge lecture from a friend of mine basically stating: “Prophet! You’re a girl! You have to beautify yourself! You have to take care of your nails! Go get regular manicures!…etc.”

This girl’s nails are always manicured to perfection. They are always painted. Never a chip. She is more than a regular at the top nail places (N-Bar, N-Syle…etc.). And I have to admit her nails look good.

My nails aren’t bad. I always keep them clean, usually cut short, and I never bite them. I think they are okay. They’re normal.

Anyway, after her lecture, I think “Okay, how bad can it be? I’ll go to N-Bar every week or so”. Even though I hate being stuck in a chair for more than hour (I get butt-cramps).

Fast-forward a month or two. I start thinking: I’m not exactly into this, I don’t enjoy it getting it done, I’m trying to simply myself and my life not make it more complicated, why the hell am I doing this again?

So I decide I’m done with this whole getting manicures. If I want to paint my nails every once in a while I can do it myself. So that’s it I decide to take the polish off my nails. Lo and behold! My nails are yellowish! WTF? They were never like this! I look like I have freaking jaundice!

Basically, after researching it turns out nail polish tends to stain your nails. I was thinking, nail polish is basically a bunch of colors and chemicals that you are putting on your body, is staining really the worst of it? And guess what? It isn’t.

I’ll give you the summary of the worst of it: A chemical used in many nail polishes called DBP (dibutyl phthalate) which increases durability of nail polish has been shown to be a carcinogen and result in underdeveloped genitals and fertility problems in unborn males. So basically, it’ll increase your chances of getting cancer and your sons are going to have smaller dicks.

Now, I don’t want you to completely freak out, because at this moment there is still much debate concerning DBP. Lots of the companies that use it state that the amount the humans are exposed to is not enough to have these effects. Other environmental and consumer groups disagree. Anyway, there is research supporting both sides. The one thing that is undisputed is that your body does absorb the chemical. The long-term effects at this point are unclear.

So ladies, and gay men that get their nails polished, if you consistently polish your nails I truly think you are putting yourself at risk. Therefore don’t come complaining to me when your sons can’t please women, I warned you.

But don’t worry ladies! There is still hope for your vanity! Some cosmetics manufacturers have started making nail polish free of DBP. “Estee Lauder is among some major brands that have done that. But many others have not, including salon favorite OPI, cult fave Essie and ubiquitous bargain brand Sally Hansen. In 2004, OPI was forced to remove DBP from its polishes sold in Europe after the European Union banned it along with many other personal-care product ingredients known or strongly suspected of causing cancer, mutations or birth defects.”

Essie… Sound familiar? That’s right! Its that wonderful stuff they use at n-bar and n-style. Cancer, yum!

Now, some of you poor girls are probably sobbing in your seats, asking the question: “Why? Why Prophet? Why would companies sell what they know to be cancerous products? They wouldn’t, would they?”

My response is: Yeah they would retards! TIMMY! Why wouldn’t they? If it makes their product “better” and they could get away with it, why not? Do you remember how many years it took for the tobacco industry to admit that cigarettes were a carcinogen? Why should they admit to selling a dangerous product if it makes them billions? And, yes, they make billions upon billions. Thanks to the vanity of women the cosmetics industry is ONE OF THE MOST PROFITABLE INDUSTRIES on the planet.

Anyway, the power is yours!



With your powers combined I am Captain Planet!

Captain Planet, he’s our hero,
Gonna take pollution down to zero,
He’s our powers magnified,
And he’s fighting on the planet side

Captain Planet, he’s our hero,
Gonna take pollution down to zero,
Gonna help him put us under,
Bad guys who like to loot and plunder

“You’ll pay for this Captain Planet!”

We’re the planeteers,
You can be one too!
‘Cause saving our planet is the thing to do,
Looting and polluting is not the way,
Hear what Captain Planet has to say:


What my co-workers have actually walked in on me doing

Haha! Just messin’ with ya!

Cool staple remover

2.% Mil euro guitar?…oh….

Good Idea. Bad Idea.


Who’s a good boy?

Disturbing children’s book 

My mom didn’t used to let me walk my dog because “it isn’t safe” it would’ve been more than safe if I had this dog…

Only in America

Mini-Video Time! In this one, a guy tries to snatch this tiny lady’s purse. But he gets owned! You go girl!!!



PS: The crap make-up you put on your face can’t be that much better. According to an article I recently read in Bazaar magazine, women that apply makeup everyday absorb I think something like 4 lbs. of chemicals every year. SHASTY (Shitty and Nasty!!)!!!



September 4, 2007

Anyway, as you can tell from my previous post I’m not having the best week. But that doesn’t mean that you should get depressed and have a crappy week. So I just thought I’d be a little positive and tell you about some things I saw today that made me say “Que?”

First of all, KDD is putting up new ads for ramadan. One of these is for “qamar al-deen” drink which I always thought was tamarind, right? Then why the hell do they have a picture of the apricot drink on there? KDD won’t fool me!

Second of all, a bus passed by me today and there was a large ad stuck on it for “fawazeer 7alima”. As in 7alima Boland. She was dressed in a raggedy-ann outfit. I really don’t understand 7alima. Nor do I want to (I think that the RSPCA should just put that bitch down). But I do want to understand why she is so popular. Now, I’ve seen her on TV a couple of times, I enjoy tamaskharing on her (on how she dresses and the way she behaves). My question is: Is she popular because everybody makes fun of her or is it because she is considered fashionably cool and, dare I say it, kuwaiti girls want to emulate her? I would very much appreciate your input on this.

Third of all, I was walking to work when I could have sworn I saw Nicolas Cage. Well, kinda, I saw a hindi Nicolas Cage. Close enough, in my opinion.

So tell me, what has recently made you say “Que?!”

I also say “Donde estan mis pantalones?” alot, but that’s a completely different story.

Also, I have to make some small political commentary (obviously not concerning kuwaiti politics-because we all know what happens if I do that). So I’m going to address all you people that can vote in next year’s US presidential elections. Everbody knows what you have to do on Novemeber 4th of 2008: You gotsta….


Oh yeah, another thing that makes me say “que?” is this pop-up that keeps appearing on my computer. I don’t understand it. Why is there a whore in the background? If I want horoscopes I’m not going to click a pop-up with some prostitute on it. And if I want porn I’m not going to go to a horoscope website. I don’t understand the market they’re trying to reach with this pop-up. Let’s think about it….. hmmmm….. Horny Horoscopes. I think that that could actually have a following. I’d read it for a good laugh. Something like:

“Make sure to trim the bush, somebody is going to go down on you today.”

I should really start charging for all these awesome business ideas I give to y’all. I knew my business degree wasn’t useless!


Oh yeah, did you notice the “click here” on her ass? You gotta love that.



Quote of the Day:

“Energizer Bunny arrested, charged with battery.”





August 12, 2007

Hullo! Hullo!

I’m back to the drudgery I have concluded is masked unemployment. And so I’m back to trying to entertain myself by entertaining you all.

First, let’s talk about “No woman, No cry”. Now, as you all know, or you should know: Bob Marley was a divine prophet who’s songs are complex. He spoke mostly of love, peace, Rastafari (everything from Jah to Zion), struggle against oppression, and ofcourse the Lord’s good herb.

The meanings of his songs are disputed. But here’s pretty much what I think “No woman, no cry” means: It’s a song about the hard life in the ghetto and the struggle therein. And “No woman, no cry” means to me that no woman in the ghetto should be sad and cry. Or he could be telling one specific woman not to cry (his wife Rita). Another viable possibility is that the woman is the Queen of England and Bob was saying if she (ie. the British) wasn’t there would be no suffering. The only reason I say this is because alot of Bob’s songs are political on a level. But I think that in the context of this song the first two explanations are more suitable.

But it doesn’t mean that you’re better off not having a woman.

Anyway, the reason I was asking was because a friend and I were debating people’s thoughts on the song so I thought I’d get your input. Thanks y’all because I won the argument! Yay! Free beers all around!


Anyway, I want you suggestion on something else… The other day I was going into my house when I saw this poor bird/pigeon flipping and rolling around in the garden. Now this wasn’t the La-Di-Da “let’s frolic and romp in the grass” type of flipping, there was something wrong with this bird. So of course I had to rescue it. The poor thing can’t eat or drink itself and so I have to hand feed it (which is really time-consuming, this thing as a really tiny beak).
Anyway, I’ve decided to call the bird Flippy unless you can suggest a better name. So can you? Can you?!


Here’s something funny for you:

My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.

As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us “Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he’ll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super.”

On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed an extremely well-dressed and exotic young woman hadn’t moved a muscle. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me over those big brute engines but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground.”

She calmly turned her head and said, “In my country, I am called a Princess and I take orders from no one.”

To which the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, “Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I’m called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray up, Bitch.”

Prophet’s life lesson of the day:

Don’t Argue With The Gay Flight Attendant


Now, I’ve always been a thinker and a philosopher. Now that I’ve graduated from college, I’ve been thinking more and more about the meaning of my life and what I’m supposed to do with it. I try to lead a full, peaceful life and yet I have this aching fear within me. It’s a fear I can’t quite put my finger on. I figured out what part of my fear is thanks to the brief flash video: Life and Music.

And so I’ve discovered that I’m terrified going to miss the music because of all of the “should”s and “cant”s that are imposed on, and weighing down, upon me. *deep sigh*

I know, I know, I’m so deep. Anyway, the other philosophy flash film I like is “I”:


R. Kelly statue?

On a lighter note: I saw The Simpsons movie and The Bourne Ultimatum this weekend. I would recommend both. And with that I’m off, until tomorrow my white-out sniffing readers (I know you do it)!

Spiderpig, spiderpig…………



Bonjourno!!! Imamario annaimagonnaweeeeeena!

Sorry, I just have to immitate Mario whenever there’s anything italian said. I guess that’s what I get for being raised by the NES, SNES and all the other kick-ass nintendo consoles.

Anyway, I just found out that tomorrow is a holiday. Yaayy! I thought it was still Tuesday. My memory sucks but this time it wasn’t about my memory. I was tricked! You know when you take birthcontrol pills they have the days of the week on them? Well they do! Retard. Anyway, I sometimes forget to take one, so when I come to take it the next day I take the one of the day before. So I end up thinking I’m a day behind. Get it?

Yeah, yeah, I take birthcontrol. I hope you people reading aren’t one of the retards that think birthcontrol pills are only for contraception. Well, if you are all I can say is TIMMY! Actually, I can say more than that ( I have to assume that some of you reading this are ignorant and need to see the light):

  1. The pill can be used by virgins
  2. The pill is hormonal medication
  3. Birthcontrol does not reduce your chances of conceiving

The reason I’m even bothering to discuss this is because most of Kuwait is COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY RETARDED when it comes to such topics. I came to this conclusion following several experiences, the most relevant being:

I went to doctor to treat my hormonal dysfunction and he ordered an ultrasound. So I go in to get the ultrasound and the radiology guy or whatever starts asking questions like last menstrual peroid, are you married, and what meds are you on?

Me: I’m not married

Him: Ok cool—(he didn’t actually say cool)

Me: I’m on birthcontrol….etc

Him: Birthcontrol? Wait. What? I thought you said you weren’t married? *checks his notes*

Me: I’m not married.

*puzzled look on his face*

Me: I take it to treat my hormonal dysfunction.

Him: OOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooohhhhhh…. ok! Why’d you say birthcontrol?! Don’t ever say it’s birthcontrol, call it “medication for the treatment of hormones”. It’s better.

Me: Ummmmm… okaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay……?

In my mind though I was “WTF? You’re supposed to be a freaking medical professional! It is fucking birthcontrol! I’m not going to call it something else, well, atleast I shouldn’t have to to you! Your supposed to be a doctor-or atleast something like one. I swear, fucking fucked retards. And as a result of this unnecessary judgement there are girls that don’t take the meds that they should be taking because they don’t want people knowing they’re on “birthcontrol”.

And to continue this education on birthcontrol: Birthcontrol doesn’t make you less fertile. 1 in 3 couples have a hard time conceiving. Once people have a hard time having a baby they automatically say “oh it’s because she took birthcontrol, had a cat when she was 6, and eats tofu”. Uuuuuuummmm no it isn’t retard. The other people that can have babies did that shit too and they reproduce like rabbits. You’re just an unlucky statistic. If anything taking meds to fix hormonal problems now will increase your chances of conception in the future.

Okay? Get it? Got it? Good.

Let’s move on: I need to ask y’all something. You know the song “No woman, no cry” by Bob Marley? Ok. If you do, go to the comment box right now and tell me what you think that line means “No woman, no cry”. Don’t listen to the song again, just tell me quickly what you think it means. If you don’t know the song, download it and listen to it just once and then tell me what you think “No woman, no cry” means. Don’t cheat, and research it and shit. The whole question is about your preception of the words. Comment! I command you!

Alright, I know too many words…. your mind is melting and getting numb. So now its picture time! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!

The pictures below are from and the title is: “The Last Picture You’ll Ever Take”- and basically ‘the last thing you’ll see before you die’:



















Alright bambinos! It’s time for us to part once again! I’m off to enjoy my long-weekend! For those of you without a long-weekend: I’m really sorry because…. it sucks to be you!!!! Hahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Your hairdresser

August 7, 2007

Ola chicos and chicas! Welcome back to another edition of The Prophet’s Life Lessons. Today’s lesson: Make sure you really know who your marrying, cuz some people is fucked up!

My crew here at work keep me updated on Kuwait’s happenings, I wouldn’t really know otherwise because I don’t concern myself with such things. Anyway, today’s newest piece of gossip is that a top surgeon from a “good” family here in Kuwait recently married a Tunisian hairdresser. Ok, cool, not too scandalous. Who cares? The bitch slap in it is that he’s already married and he got to know the hairdresser because she’d come and do his wife’s hair at their home…….. oh snap!

I’d be feeling pretty pissed if I were this guy’s wife. I mean, my fucking hairdresser? You see ladies? That’s why I’m not going to marry a Kuwaiti man*. They fuck our maids and marry our hairdressers. I mean if I were going to do something like have an affair or marry somebody else I’d screw a hot Italian man and marry a part-royal British millionaire. You try to get something better than what you have, you climb up the ladder not down, I guess some people just lack common logic.

I mean really, what would you think if a kuwait girl came up to you and said she slept with her driver and married the shawarma guy at Badr il Budoor**. You wouldn’t go “You go girl! Gimme five!”. Atleast I wouldn’t.

I’m not trying to to say Kuwaiti women are any better. They’re just as messed up. For example, yesterday I went power-walking in Muhalab (I’m trying to become healthy and shit). Now, I’ve got to let you know that I’ve gone to Muhalab maybe 5 times in my life and its always been at night and two of those times is was just to jog around the top floor. I went yesterday, at around 3.20 so I managed to make “prostitution time”.

The girls from the college of business studies go to muhalab and flirt and sometimes leave with these random 3agad guys. And all these girls are munaqab, wearing a fitted (seriously fitted) 3abayat and tons of make up. The niqab isn’t a problem (the girl shows the guy her face if she’s interested in him—saw it myself). And they walk around in groups and shit and talk to any random 3agady guy (who’s obviously there to ta3arraf). These girls are some serious hos. And apparently, alot of the girls wear only lingerie under their 3abayat (so they’re ready when they need to get it on). Also notice that there are probably 6 lingerie shops in muhalab (because of the concentration of hos).

And the guys are no better. They’re 3gadi skinny-ass, mufasal dishdasha bastards. They do things like walk around in pairs trying to talk up girls while holding hands (as in the two guys are holding hands. Uuuuuuggggggggghhhhhh! *shudder*)

So what’s the point?: Make sure to know who the hell you marry because if you don’t he may end up being the type of person that marries your hairdresser, or you wife might end up giving you the clap because she used to be one of the Muhalab hos. You just never know these days.

*Kuwaiti girls are no better
**Its okay if you marry somebody from Badr Al-Budoor because they have the best kabab sandwiches!

+++ I would write more on this topic but it’s time to go home and you guys don’t pay me enough to stay overtime. Wait… now that I think of it, you pay me nothing! Hmmmmphh! I’m leaving!





August 5, 2007

First of all, thanks to all of you for your birthday wishes.


My birthday weekend is officially over. And it was kinda crazy. I don’t think I can go into details but lets just say it was fun and strewn with delicious legal as well as not-so legal substances.

I got a total of six cakes over the three days that I celebrated. I don’t like sweet things so I tried three of them. By far, the best looking one was one that a friend got me in the shape of Ali G. (Thanks friend).

Good times…good times. But now I’m thinking its time for rehab. But rehab is for quitters and my mama told me “Don’t be a quitter”. So I’m hesitating.

I have the full intention of reducing my bad habits. But then again I just can’t say no. Well, we’ll see how well I do.

I really wanna quit my job and do something ridiculously silly and fun like these guys:

Something else I’d like to do is write a book of incorrect etymology. You know like San Diego means whale’s vagina. Oh c’mon you remember it, from Anchorman:

Ron Burgundy: Discovered by the Germans in 1904, they named it San Diego, which of course in German means a whale’s vagina.
Veronica Corningstone: No, there’s no way that’s correct.
Ron Burgundy: I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don’t know what it means. I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholars maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.
Veronica Corningstone: Doesn’t it mean Saint Diego?
Ron Burgundy: No. No.
Veronica Corningstone: No, that’s – that’s what it means. Really.
Ron Burgundy: Agree to disagree.”

Man, I love that movie! Anyway, just compose a whole book of untrue definitions and roots of words.


Anyway, I’ve gotta go you guys. I’m tired and my head hurts. In other words I have a ________.


PS: To remind myself, and for you to unnecessarily anticipate, I think tomorrow’s post will be about sex, virginity, affairs, and the like -oooh scandalous. And to help you look forward to it:


Something to do

July 31, 2007

I actually had some work to do today so this isn’t going to be the most entertaining post ever, because it’s almost hometime. Yayyy!

Sorry for not posting the pics I promised to post yet. I’ve kinda been busy, you know planning my birthday and crap. What am I talking about? I don’t have to apologize to you! This is my website! Mine, y’hear? I’ll do as I like!

 To update you on the work situation: I’ve decided to attempt a hostile takeover. I requested that a computer be set up in the conference room here, without my boss’ permission. That’s right; I live on the wild side…rawr!

I’m going to reside in the conference room until my boss comes back and then I’ll show him! *rubbing hands together maniacally* Muhahahahaha!!! They’ll never get me out of there! Never! Nevaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Anyway, I was talking to a co-worker today about random social issues (the specific topic was killing people who turn from islam- irtad). Anyway, we somehow reached the topic of sexual harrasment. And she told me that if you’re 18, or under, and female if you complain to the cops that a guy did “something” to you they can force him to marry you. If you, or someone else, has proof that he was with you alone with you, thats all you need.

How come I didn’t know about this when I was 18? So many possibilties….. I would do it to a rich guy I really hated. The bastard would have to marry me, I would refuse to sleep with him, he’d cheat on me, I’d videotape it, take it to the judge, get a divorce, make the bastard pay me for the rest of his life.

Apparently, girls have actually done this before. The reason they did it is so that people would see that they got a “good husbad”. A better word than got is trapped a “good husband”.

Why would I do it?

  1. Revenge
  2. To ruin his life
  3. Bitches gotsta get paid!
  4. For fun

I would probably have to do it earlier than 18 though. I wouldn’t want it to interefer in me getting my college education. I would need enough time for action to be taken by the police, the marriage to take place, him to cheat, and the courts to approve my divorce. To be on the safe side, I’d say I’d have to be around….. let’s see…. fourteen. I think with some help I could have pulled that off at 14.

If you’re around fourteen and reading this; you know what to do.

You see? My blog is beneficial and educational for the young and old.

For you men out there that think 14 year-old are to young to understand shit, beware. 14 year olds are capable of alot. Just look at what happened to R. Kelly. -For those of you who don’t know, R. Kelly fucked  (made love to) and peed on a 14 year old. 

Despite what the law says, and as Dave Chapelle says, a 14 year old knows whether or not they want to be peed on. I knew at 14 that I didn’t want to be peed on. My mother didn’t even have to tell me “Baby, don’t let people piss on you”.

If somebody was going to piss on me I wouldn’t sit there and think to myself “I dunno how I feel about this, I need a minute”.  Fuck that! If somebody is trying to piss on you, you dodge that shit! I knew that at 14.

So to sum up: If you’re 14 don’t let a man fuck you or piss on you. Just play it smart and get paid!

If you’re a guy who messes with underage girls, don’t think that they’re innocent and shit because next thing you know you’ll be walking down the street with your 14 year-old bride and people will say “Shit, you got owned!”

*** If you don’t know, the base of my R.Kelly thoughts are from Dave Chapelle’s comedy. Hail Chapelle!


I’m back!

July 29, 2007

Hullo hullo! I’m back!

Now, now, I know, I’ve been off for two weeks instead of one. Despite popular belief, I didn’t pull a Dave Chapelle (convert to Islam and go to Africa). Nor did I die because of a puss-oozing infection in my nose. Don’t worry kids, Jah live!

Anyway, it’s update time!

Surgery: the surgery went well. No pain, lots of juicy blood. And a cup filled with pieces of my nose (all relevant pictures will be posted soon). I ended up taking two weeks off instead of one (you may have noticed that). I spent those two weeks sleeping and watching tv. I don’t use the internet while I’m at home. I have no idea why. Actually, I do. My house is cursed. If you step into it, you will do NOTHING. Seriously, my house just sucks the life out of you. But my house is another story for another time.

Cake: I have to tell y’all that I had a farewell gathering for a friend of mine that went off to finish his studies and I got THE MOST KICK-ASS CAKE! I got it from La Gourmet. It’s a specialty cake (pictures to be posted soon).

Pussy: I shaved my pussy yesterday (again, for you dirty-minded people I mean the one that meows and actually comes when you tell it to- get it? Comes when you tell it to? Lool… ahem..anyway). My retarded cat has been shedding like a motherfucker and with my nose and allergies, I just couldn’t have that- so I took him to the International Vet Hospital in Wafra and had him shaved. God damn! He looks like a freak now! I decided to have his entire body shaved with the exception of his head and a tuft at the end of his tail. Everybody in my house hates me now. My mom says he looks like a ratty-ass street cat. My dad keeps looking at the cat in disgust while shaking his head and saying to me “allah iy-sam7itch”. My younger brother can’t stop laughing when he sees the cat. My older brother refuses to touch the cat claiming that he looks like a naked man. And that watching the cat lick himself is like watching porn. The thing you need to understand about my cat is that he was so furry you couldn’t really see his body before. But now, you can see him in all his blazing glory (ie. his balls are VERY prominent).

Loool… man, my cat is a riot. Oh, how I love him so! That’s not all, I want to put some henna on him. Just on the tip of his tail and a small mohawk on the top of his head. Don’t worry, he’s fine with what’s going on. I thought that shaving him would make him all depressed and shit but it didn’t. He became playful like a weight was lifted from him. Another thing that you have to know, is that though my cat is cool, he has his retarded moments. For example, we have an elevator at home, and my cat took it upon himself to try to go in when the door was closing and almost shut. Needless to say, I was looking at a cat sandwich in an elevator-door bun. That’s right, my retarded cat got his head stuck in the elevator. Poor bastard.

Anyway, I’m back at a work now. So I’ll be blogging again. Everybody is out on vacation so there’s even less work to do here. That means the amount of work I have to do actually went down from 2 to -15.

Anyway, I’ll post the pictures soon (I promise). Don’t worry we have many long summer days ahead of us. By the time the summer’s done pictures will be coming out of your nose.

Oooh oooh! My birthday is this Thursday. I still don’t know how I’m going to celebrate. I’m thinking it would be a perfect time to henna the cat…..

Ok some real world updates for you kids:

A Vertu boutique has opened yesterday in the Salhiya Complex. I was going to go but attending boutique openings is SO last year, and I had promised a friend of mine I would do something beautiful with him (if you really know me you know what I’m talking about).

Secondly, I just got a menu of a restuarant called “Abou Shakra” which is a famous Egyptian restuarant chain. They have things like bird tongue soup and Ouzi – NOT to be confused with Ouzo. The restuarant is in Firwaniya. 

Anyway, I’m not sure what to post today. We have some Darwin Awards, Stella Awards, and tons of pictures. But I don’t want to overwhelm you so I’ll post the Stella Awards along with some pictures.  Enjoy yourselves, but remember to always use a condom!

Stella Awards

It’s time once again to consider the candidates for the annual Stella Awards. The Stella’s are named after 81-year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonalds. That case inspired the Stella Awards for the most frivolous successful lawsuits in the United States.

The following are this year’s candidates:

1. Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware, successfully sued the owner of a nightclub in a neighboring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out her two front teeth. This occurred while Ms. Walton was trying to sneak through the window in the ladies room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.

2. Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas, was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next-door neighbor’s beagle. The beagle was on a chain in its owner’s fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been just a little provoked at the time by Mr. Williams who was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.

3. A 19-year-old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbor ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently didn’t notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal his neighbor’s hub caps.

4. A. Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, $113,500 a! after she slipped on a soft drink spill and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument.

5. Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania, was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He couldn’t reenter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation, and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for eight days. He subsisted on a case of Pepsi he found and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner’s insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental anguish. The jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.

6. A jury of her peers awarded Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas, $780,000 after breaking her ankle by tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving little toddler was Ms. Robertson’s son.

7. This year’s favorite could easily be Mr. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mr. Grazinski purchased a brand new 32-foot Winnebago motor home. On his first trip home, having driven onto the freeway, he set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the drivers seat to go into the back and make himself a cup of coffee. Not surprisingly, the R.V. left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mr. Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising him in the owner’s manual that he couldn’t actually do this. The jury awarded him $1,750,000 plus a new motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit, just in case there were any other complete morons buying their recreation vehicles.

Wow, there are so many retarded people on this planet making so much money. But don’t worry kids because tomorrow I’ll post some Darwin Awards that will make you feel that this world is a better place.

And now, for some pictures. Yaaaaaaay! Pictures!



Teeeheee- you silly dyslexic people!:


Forgive me father for I have sinned….Mmmmmm…*choke*:


Why I tell people to avoid tanning excessively:


This last one is for Flava!