My Blackberry, My Cherie

 Nine months ago after I wrote about how the Blackberry changed my life (to the worse), I decided to pick my battles; and so I chose to disregard my friends’ excessive blackberry consumption while we’re out together, even if it meant that I would be ignored on several occasions (but still, that would give me much pleasure and time to check my Facebook and ASW notifications,  e-mails, BBM messages and status updates, MSN and What’s App messages – yes, I’m semi-retarded).

BUT, there is always that one person who irritates the life out of me with their 476 blackberry status updates and their 498 broadcast messages per day!

WHY?!

We can all go crazy ONCE IN A WHILE and feel the need to update our statuses 9 times per day, or send funny, meaningless broadcast messages to our friends; but that is not what I am talking about. I am talking about out of this world psychotic behavior. For instance, there are these 2 (more like 6) girls on my BBM list that update their statuses faster than they can  say “I’m an annoying freak of nature that must stop scaring people!”

One of them, Ms. Merry Berry updates her status every 4.5 minutes. Allow me to demonstrate:

“I am flying”

“I am flying high”

“I am flying hghh in the sky” (she realizes she made a typo and corrects it)

“I am flying high in the sky”

“I am flying so high in the sky” (it’s all about emphasis)

“I am flying so high in the sky :)”

“I am flying so high in the sky :) :)”

“I am flying so high in the sky :) :) :)” (as I said, emphasis)

Okay, I believe you!

Till today, I still ask myself two questions:

1. Does Ms. Merry Berry realize that people can see her going psycho 12 times
per hour?

2. Was I temporarily insane when I accepted her friend request?

3. How oh how can I delete her without hurting her merry, twitchy, little feelings?

To all the merry berry people out there: please tone down the creepiness (for the sake of your keypad and your self-respect!)

There’s also Ms. Scary Berry who always seems to be starring in a blockbuster horror/thriller/suspense movie:

“Oh nooooooooooooo”

“It’s sooooo bbbaaaddddddd”

“It’s sooooo painfullllllllll”

“What will I dooooooo?”

“I’m dyinngggggggggg”

“Noooo wayyyyyyyyyyyy”

“Helllppp meeee”

After my rage and exasperation subsided, a feeling of overwhelming curiosity swept over me, so I asked Ms. Hitchcock what’s wrong. She then told me that she was experiencing severe menstrual pains (privacy much?); I couldn’t help but wonder what she told her 200 other contacts that must have asked her the same question for the same reasons that I did!

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-my-blackberry-my-cherie/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

My Friday started with an 11 am rendezvous at my manicurist’s, who was having a semi-stroke because her car was at the wash and there were chances of rain. This automatically put every girl present into panic mode: “If it rains, what shoes will I wear tonight?”, “Should I wear a light jacket?”, “Should I even bother going to the hair salon?”, “Should I commit suicide because the world is coming to an end?” I sat there feeling very left out because I couldn’t remember the last time I washed my car, and I virtually never get my hair coiffed to go out; I was actually looking forward to the rain, and I definitely think it’s something to look forward to after that sizzling hot summer (one can only sweat so much!).

Surely enough, it rained . . . and rained . . . and rained till all hell broke loose. To all you readers who do not reside in Lebanon, I would like to assure you that it was nothing close to a tsunami (or even a small storm); it was a couple of hours of gentle rain with a little bit of thunder, and the result was as follows:

As soon as I stepped into my car, and after leaving skid marks all over the streets of Jounieh, I was reminded that my wheels needed changing. The dust on my windshield mixed with the rain, resulted in a muddy mixture of crap that my wipers couldn’t get rid of (this was the universe punishing me for not washing my car for the past 2 months). Roads were blocked with traffic – I am guessing that every other Lebanese citizen must have also realized that their wheels needed changing (either that or they simply enjoy panicking and driving at 20 kmph for no reason at all). Who knows, maybe it’s a Lebanese ritual to drive like a 90 year old corpse at the first glimpse of a rain drop. Roads were also suddenly polluted with garbage . . . where the heck did it all come from? Water is supposed to wash away dirt, not make it more visible!

I reached my home dripping with water, but still feeling thankful that the months of scorching heat are finally over. Since our water heater at home runs on solar energy, and since the sun was non-existent today, I was forced to shower in cold water. It then took me almost 2 hours to finish blow drying my hair because the electricity went nuts – I guess “Electricité du Liban” (a.k.a. Sons du Bi***es) believes that a harmless rain shower is good enough reason to repeatedly cut out the power supply from every home over the duration of 4 hours until every Lebanese citizen has officially gone mad.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-rain-rain-go-away/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

PMS: Beauty & The Beast

As if being a woman weren’t hard enough, we had to be “cursed” with “that time of the month” as well. And as if men didn’t complain about us enough, they have an extra reason to do that every month for the rest of our lives (or until menopause at least) – and by then we’d all be too old to bother talking, let alone arguing.
Since “rivalry” and confusion between men and women has existed long before the invention of the cheese sandwich, I decided to clarify (in my opinion) why women are monsters during the wonderful days of PMS (Pre-menstrual syndrome).

As much as women like to complain about it, I think that deep down we are all thankful for having a few days a month where we have a good excuse to behave as we please; and we can be as mean, angry, annoyed, and fussy as we want. A lady must act like a lady at all times (I try to keep it at a good 50-50, for my sanity’s sake); it’s hard work – especially when we watch men walk around topless, scratch their balls, spit in public, pee at the side of the road, burp, fart, smell bad, etc. And all though that type of behavior is absolutely disgusting (even for men), they are allowed to do it – for them, it’s justified. Although it will never be acceptable for women to act that way, and although we don’t care to act that way either, that type of liberation does create some feelings of envy in us. So when PMS-ing, we can complain from dusk till dawn, and although those around us may be contemplating how to kill us, they can’t do anything about it since our behavior is justified – it’s a privilege (and a curse) that can’t be taken away from us.

I have heard time and time again about how Ms. PMS is late, is cranky, has cramps, has cravings, is in pain, is tired, and wishes to stab her boyfriend or husband 5 times in the face (why? why not!). For the remainder of the month, she absolutely adores her man – the simple thought of him makes her smile; but during this time, his face represents all that is ugly and awful in the world. His voice makes her heart beat faster (and I don’t mean that in a good or romantic way), his actions (whether romantic gestures or routine behavior) make her want to cry with misery (or turn into King Kong and climb a building). Why? I believe it’s the price men have to pay (just for being men).

No matter how great you are as a man, stay away from a PMS-ing woman; or if you insist on being around her, simply ignore the beast and everything she says and/or does for that duration (although I must warn you – that will piss her off even more). How can you win in this situation? You can’t.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-pms-beauty-the-beast/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

We're All Mad Here

Since I can’t come up with one topic to complain about this week, I decided to whine about several things “a la libanaise” that I just can’t understand. Here’s some food for thought:

1. Why is it that the moment someone phones you, their first question is “Wainak? Shou 3am ta3mol?” Is there no limit to nosiness? Whatever happened to privacy (I guess that died long ago with the creation of the Facebook and the blackberry)? What happened to “hi, how are you?” (And no I don’t mean “hi kifak ca va?”)

2. Why doesn’t anyone use their car turn signal blinkers? When my turn signals are blinking, I look at my rear view mirror and all I see are cars stampeding to over-take me (I think the blinking lights excite their infantile brain cells). I also constantly find myself driving peacefully when all of a sudden, the car in front of me makes a turn (without turn signals). Naturally, I honk angrily at the driver, only to receive the middle finger gesture and the typical insult: “inteyé”.

3. What is up with stupid English grammar mistakes? OH MY GOD! It must be one of my worst pet peeves ever.

• You are a Looser: WRONG! Loser is the opposite of winner. Looser is the opposite of tighter.
• You are so sweat: WRONG! Sweat is perspiration. Sweet is the opposite of bitter.
• Thx you: WRONG! Thx is the abbreviation for Thanks. You simple cannot say “Thanks you”, ladies and gentlemen.
• You are an angle: WRONG! Angle is a point of view or part of a triangle. Angel is that flying white-winged person.

(I once received a love letter that said “You are a sweat angle.” All I could think of was body odors and perpendicular triangles – what a turn off!)

4. What’s up with the horrifying elderly people? Aren’t they supposed to be sweet and full of wisdom? Instead, they are bitter and full of odors. They release gas (loudly) out of every available opening in their body, publicly, and do not care if they are stinking up the room. They are loud, obnoxious, and rude; they drive horribly, push and shove people (aren’t they supposed to be weak and fragile?), and they constantly remind me of how our generation is a failure compared to theirs because they made their money from scratch, fought in the war(s), and had 57 children (Be gone dinosaur!)

5. What do people like in “tish tik tah tah” music? I don’t get it! I see people driving around with their windows down, blasting their Arabic music and dancing to it. Yes, there are some old Arabic songs that are mesmerizing, but nowadays, the lyrics are either completely meaningless, or too corny, or absolutely miserable (backed by horrible melodies and vocals)! I think it is an excuse for girls to pop their cleavage out and shake their stuff like belly dancers who are high on caffeine. Is that supposed to be sexy?

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-were-all-mad-here/

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

Dates From Hell Part III: The Shakespearean Alien‏

The third and final installment for “Dates From Hell” is by yet another one of my dear girl friends. This one is more like “The Relationship from Hell” (or from outer space), but it is also sadly true. I hope you enjoy this true horror story.

 The Shakespearean Alien

When Dr. Jekyll (the jack ass) met Fifi, there were no sparks; there were no rainbows (or fireworks or music or butterflies or anything) – there was a suicide threat. Let me explain, when Dr. Jekyll asked Fifi out on a date, Fifi refused, so Dr. Jekyll sent her a suicide message that went something like this:

My dearest Fifi,
From the moment I met you (24 hours ago), something changed in my heart, body, and soul. You have changed my life. My very existence depends on yours. In other words, if you do not want to exist in my life, I do not want to exist at all.
Yours truly,
Dr. Jekyll

Fifi was quite freaked out, but being the good-hearted (naive) person that she is, she agreed to go out on a date with him so that he refrains from committing suicide.

After their first (boring to death) date, Fifi decided that she will not go on date number 2 – she thanked Dr. Jekyll and explained to him that she does not want to date anyone at the moment.
Dr. Jekyll responded with yet another suicidal, pity-inducing message:

Dear Fifi,
How could you be so cruel? I have lost my will to live. I have succumbed to starvation as I sleep alone in the garage of my village home. I have come across photos and objects that reminded me of my childhood (huh?!). I would like to share them with you. I would like to rest my head on your lap and weep (yes folks, the dude said “weep”). It is now evident that this will never be possible so I bid you farewell as I will be leaving this world soon (yeah return to your planet you freak of nature).
Best Regards, 

Dr. Jekyll

Once again, Fifi the fool felt guilty and could not allow Dr. Jekyll to hurt himself and that is how their boring, longer than life relationship began (and never seemed to end). Fifi, who was known as the life of the party, became the most boring person on earth (to better suit Dr. Jekyll). She slowly lost all her friends, and this nourished the beast within Dr. Jekyll, preparing him to transform into Mr. Hyde.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo/

 I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.

Dates From Hell Part II: The Loser, Loner, Wannabe-Ghetto Boy

As men are proudly patting each other’s backs for being players and “maniaks”, I am busy spending long hours on the phone with my girl friends, laughing and listening to their horror stories about the not so “maniak” guys. This is Dates from Hell, Part II (also based on facts).

The Loser, Loner, Wannabe-Ghetto Boy

Feeling lonelier than ever, Marsha decided to take a different approach to dating. This time, with Jimbo, a guy younger than her by 7 years, who faked having everything from an education and a job, to a social life and friends. In other words, he is the real life version of the 40-year-old virgin (except he’s much younger, much uglier, and way higher on the loser scale).

Fast forward to the end of their terrific (a.k.a. horrific) first date (possibly Jimbo’s first date ever), Marsha tells Jimbo that she’d rather not go with him to the beach the next day because she is at that time of the month.

Jimbo: “WHAT?!?! Are you insulting my intelligence?!”

Marsha: “No I am not. Just go with your friends . . .”

Jimbo interrupts her by covering his ears and,

Jimbo: “LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LAAAAA, I can’t hear youuuuu!”

Marsha blinks in awe as she holds back a chuckle.

Jimbo: “I don’t need to go with my friends, I don’t have or want any friends, I passed that stage already – you are my friend, Marsha, my best friend.”

Marsha is terrified at this point because she has finally realized the level of retardation she is dealing with.

Marsha: “Umm . . . ok, Jimbo, you’re going to drop me home now.”

Jimbo ignores her remark and drives her off to a distant remote area (possibly the ghetto where he was raised).

Jimbo: “Listen up YO, don’t you f*** with me now YO! I ain’t down with that, YO!

Marsha screams at the top of her lungs.
Jimbo finally drops her home.

Is it finally over? No.

 At a common friend’s wedding, Marsha arrives wearing a stunning dress, the venue is magical (like a Cinderella setting), and all that’s missing is the prince – that’s where Mr. Jimbo pops in. Marsha manages to drink herself into oblivion; Jimbo senses this and runs over to her to continue mentally harassing her. He introduces her to all his family as his girlfriend and future wife. At this point Marsha is brain-dead from intoxication and is susceptible to everything happening around her, including dancing with the butt monkey. Jimbo manages to steal the limelight and the first dance from the newly-weds, and halfway through the spot lit dancing, Jimbo begins to twirl Marsha. She truly enjoys this until she realizes that all the wedding guests are gawking at her butt cheeks, so she angrily asks Jimbo to put her down.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-dates-from-hell-part-ii-the-loser-loner-wannabe-ghetto-boy/

 

I am now writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!", which is a new section on BeirutNightLife.com that provides a light mockery of the silly things happening around us every day.
Don't take it seriously, after all, it is simply a breath of fresh air – stating the obvious with a bit of humor and a change of perspective.