Be Stupid!!

Many Lebanese girls have become so influenced with movies and TV series that they’ve turned their lives into a cheap imitation of the plastic Hollywood culture. Everywhere I look, I see 100 Paris Hilton wannabes making the statement “I am rich, beautiful, and shallow”.

Trying to be the mayor of Lebo-ville, where I had given myself the liberty of trying to fix or change the retards around me, proved to be impossible – little did I know that I need an army of psychiatrists, sociologists, wrestlers, snipers, and undercover retards to be able to communicate with these girls. I have now decided to stop trying to change anyone and everyone.

Instead, I considered trying a different approach of becoming more like them so that I don’t feel like vomiting or stapling their lips shut every time I have to see them or hear their stories.

For starters, I would tell daddy to open up a clothes boutique for me as a hobby because I’m such a fashionista that knows nothing about anything other than clothing labels and what’s HOT this fall. I will “create” my own designs and display some of my friends’ high-end, ridiculously priced designs (made of high quality fabrics only found next to the vegetable markets of Tripoli and in “Sou2 el Ahad”). Of course, I wouldn’t stay in Lebanon to work – I have aspirations! My real job would be in “Milan, Paris, London, or New York” (of course cities like these would kill to have a little shit like me working in their job market).

I would replace my novels and Time magazines with more stimulating reads that will inform me on whether Brad and Angelina are getting a divorce or not, and where Jennifer Love Hewitt got her vajeyjey vajazzled! Not only would I become more globally aware, but I’d have more to discuss with my new group of girlfriends.

I would only go on vacations when the other cool kids are traveling –we’d all plan it out on each others’ walls on Facebook and meet at the same “in” destination where we could all go shopping and take photos of our shopping bags, and go clubbing in the hopes of a one night stand with a famous football player or actor. That wouldn’t mean I am a whore, no, it would just mean I’m the hottest of the bunch.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-be-stupid

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.

Broken-Hearted Girls

Following last week’s “Broken-Hearted Boys”, here’s a little heartbreak insight for the ladies. I will only mention the top two scenarios I hear about the most (and wish to never hear about, ever again).

Scenario Number 1: The Slithery Slimy Rico Suave
You meet your “Prince Charming” – he is Mr. Perfect; the handsome (vain), sweet-talking (lying), charismatic (patiently awaiting sex), suave (sly), mysterious man you’ve always dreamed of (the reason he’s so mysterious is because he’s a liar – wake up women).  A few weeks into it, while you’re telling your friends he’s your boyfriend, he’s telling his friends you’re his “friend” (with a wink); and while you’re falling for the reptile, he’s busy finding a way out.

What he said: Absolutely nothing.

(Translation: He stopped answering your calls and started ignoring you because, a) he doesn’t care, or b) he’s a disrespectful and cowardly swine.)
What he meant: “Please don’t call me. Forget about me. I don’t like or want you anymore and I assume that by not calling you, you’ll understand and never bother me again.”

Your question is: “Oh my GOD! What happened? I need to know! Why did he leave? I need my closure or I can’t move on! Nag! Nag! Nag!”  (Seriously?)

Your question should be: “Why am I still sulking over a man-whore who dumped me in such a disrespectful way? He doesn’t respect me, but don’t I respect myself?”

The verdict: He wanted to have fun with you, either to forget an ex-girl friend or simply because he’s “just not ready for a relationship” (i.e. he is, but not with you). When he realized that you are so stupidly in love with him, he felt choked and decided to run away like the mouse that he is. There are two scenarios:
a) He wanted to have sex, you didn’t, so he left to find someone else to answer to his needs.
b) He wanted to have sex, you gave him what he wanted (quicker than you could say “Hi, How are you?”) so he got bored (no more “thrill of the chase”) and left.

Whatever the reason, it would have never worked out because he wasn’t in a relationship mindset. Forget about him; don’t call or stalk him – it’s called preserving your dignity!

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-broken-hearted-girls/

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.

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:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wlooo-dates-from-hell-part-i-the-stingy-brad-pitt/

 

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.

Man! Make Her Feel Like a Woman!

1. You complain she’s a gold digger, yet you take out a car loan to flaunt your expensive ride and live a showoff-ish lifestyle that you can barely afford because “that’s the only way she’ll ever look at you” – Ha! Well, what kind of girl were you expecting? The saddest part is, some men end up marrying these women. It’s simple, if you want someone true, keep it real!

2. You are NOT her father! You should never tell her how to dress, talk, eat, or laugh. Never tell her who she can’t talk to, and don’t smother her with constant phone calls when she’s out with friends. She has a brain of her own and knows her boundaries – if she doesn’t, then she’s not the girl for you.

3. You are not her bodyguard; if there’s a guy who is up in her business, she can take care of it – and don’t interfere unless she asks you to. There is nothing more vulgar than a guy starting a public fight to defend HIS macho ego.

4. A little jealousy is nice – too much is borderline psychotic. You have no right to accuse her of being a whore because she has male friends – it’s not like she is fornicating with them for Pete’s sake! When in doubt, hear her side of the story before transforming into the mighty Hulk.

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/news/la-wloo0-man-make-her-feel-like-a-woman/

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.