Showing posts with label school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label school. Show all posts

October 3, 2010

Lazy "Lebanese" Ladies





I remember reading somewhere that the year 2010 would witness “the rise of the female entrepreneur”, and many of my friends and acquaintances have indeed lived up to that claim and proved to those around them that you do not need to have a penis in order to be hardworking and independent. This made me take a glance at where I stood in this: after graduating 3 years ago, I jumped right into the employment scene; slaving away 12 hours a day, 5 days a week for over 2 years until I decided I needed a break, just to remember what the sun felt like on my skin and what oxygen felt like in my lungs.

During my break, I decided that I wanted to become an entrepreneur as well, and that is what I have oh so slowly been working on for the past few months. Whenever I am in doubt or hesitant, I force myself to remember when I was jealous of all those unemployed girls I know that could go to the beach any time they wanted, travel randomly when their hearts desired, and stay up every night till the break of dawn until I became one of them and realized that it is not a privilege, but a curse; because laziness inevitably brings one thing: more laziness (and consequently, uselessness).

I also realized not many girls enjoy working . . . at all. Instead, some graduate from university and claim not to be able to find a job; and some graduate and start looking for the next best thing: a “rich” husband. They believe that it is only a man’s job to make money and build a career.

Me: “Why aren’t you working?”
Useless Post-Grad: “Oh I haven’t found anything yet.”
Me: “How long have you been searching?”
Useless Post-Grad: “I’m not (because I am a coward who is terrified of failure).”
Me: “Oh . . . OK (loser), how come?”
Useless Post-Grad: “I have a severe case of Post-Graduation Depression.”
Me: “You have post-what?!”

The worst part about lying is when you start believing it yourself. “Post-Graduation Depression”, Ha! I wish these hopeless cases would
stop searching for “smarter” ways to camouflage their actual problem; instead they should say “I am refusing to acknowledge that I am a lazy loser who is a waste of space and an even bigger ungrateful waste of my parents’ support, time, and money. I am also getting tired of searching for a rich man to support me financially (I need to get those new Gucci shoes or life as I know it, will end), so please God, help me win more time to come up with yet another lame excuse for why I am such a useless burden (or better yet, please find me that
rich husband, really fast!).” The saddest part is that when Ms. Useless Post-Grad was still in university, she bragged to everyone about how she will become a big shot when she graduates. Aah . . . she talks the talk but can’t walk the walk, tsk tsk.


To continue reading, please follow this link:

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.


August 23, 2010

Dates From Hell Part I: The Stingy Brad Pitt


Back by popular demand, I decided to write about some more “dates from hell” stories, but this time, as told by some of my girl friends and divided into 3 parts. (Based on 100% true stories)

The Stingy Brad Pitt

When Powerpuff met Brad, she found him to be quite the good looking charmer. On their first date, Brad decides to take her to a beach resort but he asks Powerpuff to pick him up (how charming) because his car is at the garage. As they arrive to the beach resort, they both proceed to pay the entrance fees. Powerpuff offers to pay her share of course – out of politeness. Without arguing, Brad takes the money from her (Powerpuff assumes that he is trying to avoid a public display of “take my money, no, please, bla” and that he would discreetly sneak it back into her bag later). Instead, Brad blatantly shoves the money into his wallet (Ahem, this is a FIRST DATE!! Who does that?!). After getting over her shock, Powerpuff decides that it is no big deal, and continues with the “date”, which mainly consisted of Brad yapping and bragging about nothing:

Brad: “I am so sick of my car. I want to sell it and buy a new BMW, What do you think?”

Powerpuff: “Umm…I guess your car is OK (and I don’t bloody care!!).”
*Attempting to change the conversation*
“Where did you go to school, Brad?”

Brad: “I studied in Europe (said Mr. Pretentious), and now I am finishing my M.B.A. at a university here in Lebanon.”
(Huh?! Isn’t it usually the other way around??)

Powerpuff: “…..”

After their enthralling “conversation”, Brad’s friend magically pops up and lingers around them for about an hour. Powerpuff can’t figure out what would be more torturing: listening to their boring conversation until her ears explode or staring at the sun until her eyes burn. Brad announces that he is starving and they all agree to eat. Brad’s friend recommends a certain restaurant at the resort because it is “affordable” – Brad is delighted. (Affordable: a word not to be used on a first date.)

As they sit down to eat, Brad’s brother joins them, and Brad introduces Powerpuff as his girlfriend. Brad orders a hamburger, his brother orders a jumbo meal, and Powerpuff orders the most insignificant sandwich on the menu. When their food arrives, Brad realizes that his burger is accompanied by potato wedges instead of french fries. He insists on calling the waitress and making her life hell:

To continue reading, please follow this link:

 

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.

August 16, 2010

Daddy’s Girl, “Bint el Pap”


After more than a decade of living in Lebanon, I found that dividing people up into genres makes it easier for me to identify and deal with them. Although we are all somehow Daddy’s Girls (and it is great), within this genre lies the most annoying species known to mankind: the LEBANESY “yiiyy yaaayy ya alla” Daddy’s Girl, also known as “Bint El Pap”. I came across this shocking species of girls a few months ago (the 8th world wonders) and wanted to share the horror with you.
Bint El Pap is . . . useless. All she cares about is appearances, so she invests every ounce of her time and energy into looking good. Ironically, she has zero sense of style and at 20, ends up looking like a 45 year old woman. Even when going out for coffee, Pap’s Girl will wear all her makeup and accessories, her highest heels, and madame-like clothes (adequate for attending a wedding). Since these Pap’s Girls only care about flaunting brands, most of what they wear is fake; but they will continue to show off at how they spend over 10,000 US dollars on shopping each month (here’s a tip: people that specify the amount of money without being asked, are peasants!)
Whenever Pap’s Girl buys or might buy something new, she announces it to all humanity. In her nagging voice (made of the heaviest matter) she asks, “yyyyyiiiiiiiiiiiiiii . . . What car should I buyyyyyyyyy? This one? That one? The other one? The next one?” (As if anyone cares)
After being asked about her budget, she pompously refers to herself in the third person and responds, “Yyyyyiiiiiiiiii walawwwwww?? Bint el Pap ma 3anda budget 3end el Pap” (translated: Me, airhead. Pap, Bill Gates).
Among the other things that Pap doesn’t set a budget for, is a new nose for his stunning petite goat. She gets rhinoplasty and/or breast enlargement surgery done before she is 18. The sooner she stops looking like she has a bird’s beak instead of a nose, the sooner she can start blossoming into the divine flower that she is. She will also undergo full body laser hair removal (since she is hairier than a baboon) and live on a never-ending diet so that her bum-bum continues to fit in her “designer” jeans.

To continue reading, please follow this link:


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.


July 29, 2010

The Bridezilla Syndrome


As the summer season reaches its peak, one thing that tops everyone’s list is weddings. I don’t know about you guys, but I find myself invited to several marriage ceremonies that constitute of the same cliché.

Since high school, I have met, known, and befriended too many pathetic girls who don’t know the first thing about being funny, looking good, or getting a guy’s attention. Oddly enough, these young ladies in particular usually seem to be the first that get married. Knowing how unpromising they are (by most people’s standards), all that matters to them is digging their claws into the first naive guy that gives them the time of day. In other words, Bridezilla meets her victim at a perversely young age and remains with him in a “dedicated, committed, long-term relationship” until he is either financially or psychologically capable of tying the knot as planned by her mother, grandmother, and any remaining living ancestors) while her boyfriend proudly boasts to his friends that he is lucky to have found a virgin who he can mold into the lady of his dreams (well, DUH, she’s 16 . . . pedophilia much?).

Now although Bridezilla has been an ass-kisser since the ice age, the minute her wedding date is set, she suddenly becomes the Queen B whose marriage is the event of the season that only the crème de la crème are allowed to attend (of course, being tightfisted is always the reason for why X, Y, and Z are not invited to the La Classe wedding). Bridezilla will also become the love guru du monde who never stops giving relationship advice to friends, enemies, siblings, trees, and furniture. She will say annoying phrases like “3a’belik . . . inshallah nefrah mennik. Yalla, sheddé hemtik.” (Yuck, yuck, YUCK!). My answer is always “metel ma allah bi reed. . . merci”, but what I really want to say is, “sorry but I actually have a life, value my career, and have parents who are willing to support my lazy ineligible self for as long as I want”. God forbid you are still unmarried after 25 (or OH NO, after 28?!), you will be pitied, judged, and expected to have a justification for still being single at such an age; like having male genitals or a fatal, contagious illness. In any case, Bridezilla will always give a condescending smile before she walks away to harass yet another person who couldn’t care less.

To continue reading, please follow this link:


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.