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.

Terrorizing, Traumatizing Traffic

On a typical day in Lebanon, no matter where you live or work, a simple drive from point A to point B could induce heart attacks, stokes, and/or anxiety attacks amongst the best of us. Regardless of trying every known or undiscovered shortcut (until you start sweating through your eyeballs), you will still get stuck in traffic, drive into a ditch, or get verbally harassed by another road-raged driver. Why bother driving in the first place? “Yiii, my prestige doesn’t allow me to walk or use public transportation!”
In our 10,452 km² country and on our “very strategically built” highways, why all the traffic? Where in the heck does it start and end? You could be speeding down the road enjoying the music, when all of a sudden: a traffic jam (it begins and ends for no logical reason at all). I’ve come to notice a few reasons as to why this happens:

1.       Shops at the side of the road: Cars are ALWAYS parked in front of those shops, and it is inevitable that everyone must panic once a motorist attempts to drive back onto the highway. WHY is this so difficult? Cars driving by simply cannot slow down without creating havoc, and the motorist who is reversing out of their parking space suddenly forgets how to drive like a human being. The result: panic, and thus traffic.

2.       Car accidents: No, I do not mean car accidents on the highway you are actually driving on; I mean accidents on the highway to your left. All motorists simply must stop (because the road belongs to their fathers) and stare at the accident (to check what car it is, if anyone died, and tell the whole world that they saw it first– Reuters style). Some motorists even get out of their cars and join the police men and ambulance drivers on the scene of the accident – why they do this, I will never know!

3.       Left lanes: Almost everyone is always driving on the left lane. In all fairness, it is supposed to be the fast lane (everywhere except in Lebanon), but here we all make our own rules – the Lebanese motorists will drive on the left at 30 kmph (any slower and they’ll be moving backwards), and God forbid that you honk at any of them because they own the roads and are too uncivilized to understand the concept of a “fast lane”. As a result, you will only receive a handful of insults (the only way a Lebanese motorist knows how to communicate). “Man, kermel heik ba3mol betweeneit.”

To continue reading, please follow this link:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-terrorizing-traumatizing-traffic/

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.

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:

http://www.beirutnightlife.com/lifestyle/cultural/la-wlooo-lazy-lebanese-ladies

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.