Hello awesome readers!
I have re-located my blog to the following URL:
http://www.blogtoblague.com
See you there!
April 13, 2011
April 12, 2011
Lebanese Internet SUCKS
Since 1998, I haven’t enjoyed one day of fast, non-stop internet. It’s always like a suspense movie, “what’s going to happen next?” or “how many minutes do we have left before we run out of megabytes?”
For someone who’s lived in Lebanon their entire life, this is perfectly normal. It’s not strange that we cannot watch a video on Youtube without having to wait for it load first, it’s not strange that one song needs fifteen minutes to download and it’s certainly not strange that we can’t watch an “Entourage” episode online without waiting half a day for it to load.
Personally, I’m pissed off and I think you should be too because if:
The electricity cuts at 6 pm while you’re in the middle of a Skype call or a download. You then have to wait a good five to ten minutes for everything to start running properly again. The minute you’re back on the net, you can bet that whoever you’re chatting to is going to disappear for ten minutes as well (granted that they live In Lebanon).
You pay 200 USD for a 2.3 mb connection. Let’s not forget how you must pay 250 USD (or something like that) for the initial installment of a router that serves no significant purpose. You must then pay 40 USD per month for megabytes that won’t last a week. Do you have any complaints? Click here: www.noonecares.com
You call your
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
April 4, 2011
Sun Of A Beach
Beach season is only a couple of weeks away; I can tell, since I have no place in my aerobics class that magically went from 15 to 50 people – all struggling to ward off the evil fat.
Excess body weight is not the only problem at the beach though – allow me to elaborate.
Undress to Impress
For her:When buying a swimsuit, make sure the fabric isn’t see-through. There is nothing sexy about wearing a white swimsuit that reveals your secret garden.
Also, pay attention to fabric. Stay away from vulgar prints and metallic fabrics. Mesh is a big NO-NO, especially when combined with army print. You’re not Lara Croft or G.I. Jane, so don’t try to flaunt that look.
Keep in mind that there could be families at the beach you’re going to, so keep your thong bottoms for a more private occasion (or burn them, preferably). If you have large breasts, make sure your swimsuit top covers more than just your nipples. You want to look sexy not scary. If you have fake breasts, please stay away from push-up swimsuit tops – that’s just plain disgusting.
If you’re overweight, do not wear anything stringy because it will look plain ugly on you. Be considerate of other people’s eyes and feelings.
It would be very considerate of you to wear a cover-up while walking around, especially if you have a blubbery behind. Once again, other people have eyes.
Never wear high heels. You’re not going out to dinner or to a trendy club, you’re going to the beach! Whatever happened to Havaianas? Seriously, there’s nothing sexy or cool about a woman parading around in high heels or wedges while wearing a swimsuit. It’s way too overdone and I get uncomfortable just watching these women attempting to walk.
One more thing, visible hair (anywhere other than your head and eyebrows) is unacceptable. Deal with it.
For Him:Speedos may be the bomb in certain countries, so if you want to rock that look, fly there and spare us from the misery. No one is comfortable looking at a man wearing Speedos. Your bulge is way too distracting. It looks as if it’s about to explode or pop out to say hello.
Do not hike your swimming trunks up to your throat, and don’t push them too low to the extent that we can see your wiener lower pelvis. There is a comfortable and proper way to wear your swimming trunks, a way that doesn’t scare off children – keep that in mind.
You may be the hairiest beast in the world, but we don’t need to see or know that. Spend a day (or three) waxing or shaving all that nasty chest (back, neck, stomach) hair before you make your debut at the beach. a) girls will look at you without vomiting, b) children won’t think that King Kong just emerged from the sea, and c) you’ll feel much better about yourself, and lighter (since carpets belong on floors).A beer belly is not that bad; no one is asking you to look like Brad Pitt, but if you have man breasts…it’s over. You can either try to lose weight or cover them up just like women do. Yes, when exposed, man breasts are even more distracting than their female counterpart.
Wearing your watch, chain, ring, and whatever else to the beach (where there is sand, sun, heat and water) is just cheesy and vulgar. Keep it simple, and keep all your metallic objects in a drawer in your bedroom . . . and spare yourself the 573 unnecessary tan lines.
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
March 28, 2011
33 Things You Didn't Know About Men
1. Men don’t like snobs or snobby behavior; they interpret it as rejection. Always remember, there’s a big difference between sexy self confidence and a turn-off holier-than-thou attitude.
2. Men will choose a neat and presentable girl over a good-looking girl. There’s no point in dating a Gisele lookalike if she’s dressed like a hooker. That being said, even if your man enjoys you being the biggest b**** in bed, you better be a lady in public. Men take no pride in boasting a hooker-lookalike girlfriend; for starters, his friends will either make fun of him or make jokes about banging her.
3. Stop worrying about your silly tick or your wide hips or splits ends or small breasts. When a man truly really likes you, he’ll ignore all your bad characteristics.
But,
4. Never underestimate a man’s attention to detail. If you have Sasquatch toes, he’ll run away. If you have hairy arms or armpits or moustache, he’ll run away. If you have crooked homeless guy teeth, he’ll run away. If you have fart breath, he’ll run away. And although women may tolerate some body odor on men, it doesn’t work the other way around. If you stink, your man will run away. Men love the sweet smell of a woman’s skin and hair so make sure you don’t smell like sweat!
But,
4. Never underestimate a man’s attention to detail. If you have Sasquatch toes, he’ll run away. If you have hairy arms or armpits or moustache, he’ll run away. If you have crooked homeless guy teeth, he’ll run away. If you have fart breath, he’ll run away. And although women may tolerate some body odor on men, it doesn’t work the other way around. If you stink, your man will run away. Men love the sweet smell of a woman’s skin and hair so make sure you don’t smell like sweat!
5. Yes, women hate it when men compare them to their mother; but weirdly enough a man is attracted to a woman that reminds him of his mother (Oedipus much?), so if you feel his mother is an evil b***, you’re most likely an evil b*** too.
6. Keep in mind that:
Men cry too, they just don’t make a dramatic Shakespearean show out of it like women do.
A man can be infatuated by you for five minutes, then forget you for the remainder of his existence.
Men will go crazy over a woman’s smile.
When a man tells you he doesn’t understand you, it’s because you’re not thinking the way he is.
Whether he’s lazy or super hard-working, every man has dreams bigger than his ego.
When a guy keeps teasing you, it means he’s into you.
Men love their moms. Men hate gays.
Men cry too, they just don’t make a dramatic Shakespearean show out of it like women do.
A man can be infatuated by you for five minutes, then forget you for the remainder of his existence.
Men will go crazy over a woman’s smile.
When a man tells you he doesn’t understand you, it’s because you’re not thinking the way he is.
Whether he’s lazy or super hard-working, every man has dreams bigger than his ego.
When a guy keeps teasing you, it means he’s into you.
Men love their moms. Men hate gays.
7. Never underestimate or question a man’s ability or power. Whether he’s driving around trying to find that new restaurant, or trying to fix your phone or his TV set, never tell him: “you don’t know what you’re doing,” smile instead and give him a thumbs up.
8. Men are self-conscious about their weight too. They don’t like having a beer belly or those extra love handles, so don’t squeeze them and say “oh how cute!!” No man wants to be your teddy bear, he wants to be your grizzly bear and rock your world.
9. A man can flirt around with 54 girls per day, but right before he goes to bed he only thinks about that one girl he truly cares about; whether it’s a girl he broke up with 7 years ago or his current lover or his best friend’s girl.
10. You’re not playing smart by telling a man: “Umm, you know what? . . . never mind, forget about it.” You’re not being a tease; you’re being stupid, because he will jump to a conclusion so far from what you were actually thinking . . . following that, hell may break loose.
11. Never talk about your ex-boyfriends. Men hate it. Their imaginations will run wild too. On that note, never tell your man that you’re friendly with your Ex; his mind registers it as: “my Ex and I still hook up every now and then”.
12. When a man asks to meet your parents, don’t stop him. You never know, two years down the line you could be begging him to meet your parents are he’ll be refusing . . . think about it.
13. No girl likes an emotionless man. The key here is moderation, so don’t keep trying to provoke your man in order to get a reaction out of him. If he’s provoked enough, you’ll be getting much more than a heated temper (and no girl likes that either).
14. When a girl says “no” to a guy, he usually interprets it as “try again later”. When a girl says “yes”, he interprets it as “I want you to f*** me”. There’s no such thing as being too hard to get, but there is such thing as being too accessible. Men don’t like accessible girls, they enjoy the thrill of the chase and prefer a girl that’s a challenge to him and unreachable to guys before him.
15. Although they will deny this, men are even bigger and worse gossipers than woman. They have the power to spread a story across the face of the earth faster than a woman can put her shirt back on. That being said, men cannot keep secrets that women tell them.
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
March 21, 2011
34 Things You didn't Know About Women
1. No we do not enjoy watching boring action movies and sports games we know nothing about, so it wouldn’t kill you to watch “The Fashion Police” with us every once in a while without complaining that your testosterone levels are dropping.
2. No we do not enjoy getting waxed at the salon. It’s time, money, and energy wasted on agonizing physical pain, so it wouldn’t hurt you to trim your nose hairs and tweeze your unibrow. We also understand that you’re a man and you’re entitled to chest hair, but please don’t abuse the privilege. If you can braid them, shave them!
3. We also burp and fart . . . in private. How would you feel if your woman rubbed her belly and burped after each meal?
4. We get our nails manicured on a weekly basis so that our delicate lady hands remain soft, polished, and appealing. We’re not asking you to have lady hands too, but we don’t want you to have Godzilla hands either. Cut your nails, push back your cuticles, and don’t chew at them. It’s quite simple.
5. We have eyes; we can see when your vision wanders from our face to our breasts. Please keep in mind that there is no way to be subtle about it. If you want to sneak a peek while we’re not watching, go ahead, but don’t gawk at them while we’re talking to you. Eww.
6. You’ll never understand what PMS truly is . . . neither will we. We don’t PMS every month, but we still enjoy the privilege of acting like monsters with you when we can simply blame it on PMS. It’s the perfect excuse to call you a stupid prick. You may think it’s a lame excuse, but it’s not – it’s darn great one.
7. We’d rather be with a man who doesn’t dance rather than with a man who can’t dance but still insists on dancing like he’s at a gay parade. If you don’t know your moves, sit down. Contrary to Abba’s song, you are not the dancing queen.
8.Whether we’re out on our 1st or 93rd dinner together, we want dessert. Whether we ask for it or not, we want dessert. Whether we’re dieting or not, we want dessert. When you’re in doubt, order us dessert (preferably something with lots of chocolate) – why? Because we want dessert.
9. If we love you, we will turn into worriers. We will worry about what you eat, how you sleep, and everything else. We do not like hearing that we are like your mother; so instead of complaining, appreciate that a female of the world actually gives a crap about you.
10. Whether you’re going to the beach, the supermarket, or to your cousin’s wedding, we expect you to look sexy and smell good. Whether you are bathed or not, drowned in cologne or just back from the gym, it’s all the same to us as long as you smell good; even if it’s your natural manly smell (but as long as it’s not a bad case of body odor – unacceptable).
11. If you wear a suit or a tuxedo the right way, you’ll have the power to make any girl swoon over you – you’ll have the power to turn us into porn stars. True Story.
12. We understand there’s a three day rule to calling a girl after you first meet her. We don’t like that rule. It’s become so cliché and we don’t like men who need to plan their every move. This is not a board game, so spontaneity won’t give you an ulcer. Call us the next day; not only will be appreciate it, but we’ll appreciate you.
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
March 14, 2011
Marriage: Sex, Money & The In-Laws
Marriage season is only a few months away, and while many brides are worried about what dress to buy, what venue to rent out, and where to spend the honeymoon, the more important issues are almost entirely overlooked. These important issues seem to magically surface during the first year of marriage and the newlyweds are in awe as to “what went wrong”.
For starters, newlyweds must accept the idea that they are starting new, at the beginning, and working their way hopefully up. Not every man is a millionaire and not every man starts off with the wealth of his or his wife’s father, since a man at 40 is at a different level than when he was 20. With this in mind, every woman must be realistic.
It is every woman’s dream to have her house on the pages of the Architectural Digest, with at least 500 m2 of space, a garden, a swimming pool, and a sea view; let’s not forget the nanny, 2 luxury cars, 3 vacations per annum, and the valuable presents (designer bags and diamond earrings). It all sounds so yummy; and even if you had these privileges when you were single and living in daddy’s house, when you’re a newlywed with no kids and trying to build a future, that is too big and too early of a dream because there are other priorities to focus on.
Some girls may have that messed up princess attitude and say “I deserve nothing less. Daddy gave me everything I ever wanted”.
Of course daddy simply cannot continue paying for you after you’re married, unless you’d like to castrate your husband.
To Daddy’s Princess: You should marry your own father. Who cares about incest when he’s flying you to Bali?
Keep your expectations realistic.
Many women like to glue themselves to their mother and cannot understand how much of a turn off that is:
To the Overgrown Embryos: congratulations, you are on the right track of making your husband hate you. He will either cheat on you or divorce you in the next three years. Always remember this equation: Husband + Mama = Disaster = You’re an idiot.
It’s even worse when the husband can’t get enough of his mama and it makes you question whether or not he has underlying Freudian issues. For starters, it’s not cool to always compare your wife’s cooking to your mama’s. Remember: your wife has only just started cooking while your mama has been doing it for decades. It’s also not cool to let your mama interfere in your financials or when you’re deciding to have kids. One word: creepy.
To all Oedipus Wannabes: You can’t have two women in your life . . . and there are limits to what your mama can do for you – know what I’m sayin’?
For starters, newlyweds must accept the idea that they are starting new, at the beginning, and working their way hopefully up. Not every man is a millionaire and not every man starts off with the wealth of his or his wife’s father, since a man at 40 is at a different level than when he was 20. With this in mind, every woman must be realistic.
It is every woman’s dream to have her house on the pages of the Architectural Digest, with at least 500 m2 of space, a garden, a swimming pool, and a sea view; let’s not forget the nanny, 2 luxury cars, 3 vacations per annum, and the valuable presents (designer bags and diamond earrings). It all sounds so yummy; and even if you had these privileges when you were single and living in daddy’s house, when you’re a newlywed with no kids and trying to build a future, that is too big and too early of a dream because there are other priorities to focus on.
Some girls may have that messed up princess attitude and say “I deserve nothing less. Daddy gave me everything I ever wanted”.
Of course daddy simply cannot continue paying for you after you’re married, unless you’d like to castrate your husband.
To Daddy’s Princess: You should marry your own father. Who cares about incest when he’s flying you to Bali?
Keep your expectations realistic.
Many women like to glue themselves to their mother and cannot understand how much of a turn off that is:
- Because mama-glue seems like an immature child who cannot make an adult decision on her own
- Because mama-glue seems like a tattle tale who runs to mommy whenever big bad evil husband tells her “no” or raises his voice
- Because mama-glue seems like she was better off living with mama, single, in mama’s home . . . without the accessory husband.
To the Overgrown Embryos: congratulations, you are on the right track of making your husband hate you. He will either cheat on you or divorce you in the next three years. Always remember this equation: Husband + Mama = Disaster = You’re an idiot.
It’s even worse when the husband can’t get enough of his mama and it makes you question whether or not he has underlying Freudian issues. For starters, it’s not cool to always compare your wife’s cooking to your mama’s. Remember: your wife has only just started cooking while your mama has been doing it for decades. It’s also not cool to let your mama interfere in your financials or when you’re deciding to have kids. One word: creepy.
To all Oedipus Wannabes: You can’t have two women in your life . . . and there are limits to what your mama can do for you – know what I’m sayin’?
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
Too Cool For School
Teacher’s day is an occasion to give thanks to the beautiful minds that helped shape our method of thinking, behaving, and living. Out of the four schools and university that I’ve attended, there are a good few teachers and professors that I will never forget; some because of how they inspired me and others because of how they disgusted me. I haven’t thought of my teachers in a while, but the incidents of Friday night put quite the spotlight on horrible high school professors.
Teacher’s day was celebrated this week in Lebanon; and just like every year, I must encounter some form of human disaster on this date. Friday night was no exception, when some friends and I decided to dine in a charming and authentic Lebanese venue, far away from the Beirut city bustle. We wanted a calm evening to enjoy some of our country’s delicious chardonnay and relax after a long week. To our horrible luck, at least 60 teachers from some strict catholic school decided to celebrate their teacher’s day in that very place bringing with them the most obnoxious entertainer (singer/pianist). You’d think strict catholic school teachers would have some manners and poise, but no. I have seen buffaloes, wild boars, and warthogs with more etiquette (and less body fat), and just imagining having those people as my teachers made me feel faint. Where do I begin on how horrifying their behavior was?
What looked like a bulldozer 400 pound lady was picking her teeth (with her thumb) all night. At some point, I questioned whether she was cleaning her teeth or filing her nails. After three hours of devouring her friends’ share of the food, she looked rather glum that the feast had come to an end. I couldn’t imagine how this entity was a teacher. How did children look at this beast all day long? How did they manage to learn from her – whether it’s information or manners? On a final note, did she also pick her teeth in class (or did she pick her nose instead)?
Every one of the women looked like they had escaped from a brothel. With skintight leather outfits, leopard print shoes, and red faux fur blouses, it was like a scene out of a circus act – especially when they’re 40 year old women, shaking what their mama gave them all over the dance floor. I felt the earth move and the walls crumble as they bombarded the one 70 year old male professor that was happily enjoying the beastly female attention. He felt and looked like a star, gesturing each female to take a 10 minute break from wiping the plates clean to dance with him. I can only imagine being a teenager again and running into one of my teachers looking like that – high school would have been a different experience altogether.
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
February 28, 2011
A Plague Of Pigs Among Us
It is very possible that I have exhausted the subject of civility regarding the “people” I am forced to come across every day of my existence, but it is justifiable considering the sad truth that these rude/discourteous/foul/loud/unmannerly/uncivil people exist by the millions and seem to be multiplying at an unstoppable pace . . . somewhat like the plague – which is what I ought to call them from now on. Yes, the Plague.
This plague that I speak of is the uncivilized caveman (or woman) that you inevitably run into in the parking lot, supermarket, petrol station, cinema, and sometimes even in the public toilets where their creepy behavior seems to interlock and strengthen with the disgusting odors they release from their cavities.
Being sick and sedated from heavy prescription medication for the past two weeks oddly made me only more aware of this medieval mode de vie and I wished that a manual for proper behavior existed; something titled “How Not to Live Like a Pig”, and after searching for such a book and not finding one, I am taking the liberty of writing down a few guidelines for some of the pigs out there who may one day consider transforming into human beings.
Being sick and sedated from heavy prescription medication for the past two weeks oddly made me only more aware of this medieval mode de vie and I wished that a manual for proper behavior existed; something titled “How Not to Live Like a Pig”, and after searching for such a book and not finding one, I am taking the liberty of writing down a few guidelines for some of the pigs out there who may one day consider transforming into human beings.
Note to Pigs: Common courtesy was created so that person A can interact with person B and person C (and etc.) without killing each other.
On that note, the concept of standing in line was created so that each person has his own rightful turn. There is no “wasta” in standing in line; and no, you may not barge through if you sound or look angrier than the rest. Your uncivilized, impatient being must simply wait it out until it’s your turn; your time and existence are in no way more valuable than the rest of the people lined up – you are not a semi-god. Also, to those of you who stink: SHOWER! We are not obliged to bask in the revolting odor of your stinking armpits. Let’s all fight against pollution.When you are in such a hurry to enter an elevator, please let the people inside exit first. You are not paper thin and if your parents taught you any manners, you’d be aware of this pleasant gesture. And no, you may not allow the door to slam on a person’s face. Holding the door for someone is not like donating a kidney; it’s a very quick and simple procedure – try it.
Thank you for making a visit to the supermarket become like a visit to the underworld where I have to fight demons and zombies before I reach to the deodorant aisle. I understand it may be torment for you to choose the ideal box of cornflakes or shampoo, but it would be great if you parked your cart somewhere other than the middle of the passageway where you will inevitably create a “traffic jam” and of course begin a feud over who has the right of passage. To the next person who does this to me: I will not hesitate to smash a can of beans right into your face.
Lebanese mothers are the worst. I will allow myself to be chauvinistic and sexist by saying that you truly do belong at home and nowhere else. You must not be allowed to drive or shop or function outside your household. No one cares about your annoying baby’s fat cheeks, but if it’s crying for hours you better shut it up before someone else does. A crying, screaming child is not cute; it is frustrating. Keep it at home the next time you choose to venture into civilization. Dogs aren’t allowed into malls, yet they are ten times more bearable than screeching children . . . think about it. Also, your “baby on Board” bumper sticker does not justify you driving like a vision-impaired Sasquatch.To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
February 21, 2011
Lifestyles Of The "CLASSE" And The Cavemen
I love Lebanon; always have, always will. As much as we complain about the silly behavior, lifestyles, and traditions of many Lebanese people, nothing will probably ever change. So, deep down I’m glad that we’re all so crazy and thankful that I have something different to laugh about every day. To those of you who don’t understand the concept of “sarcasm”, please stop reading here and spare yourselves from feeling offended over nothing.
How to be “CLASSE” a la Libanaise
Always remember, everything in Lebanon is about being classy or “CLASSE”. You should eat at classy restaurants, wear classy shoes, and even buy your mobile phone from Class and get ripped off or else it wouldn’t be the real deal.
You should always look angry while driving or walking (all three expression lines on your forehead must be visible). God forbid people see you with a smile on your face – they’d think you’re a peasant and “mish CLASSE”.
If you’re a woman, you must walk around like you’re smelling sh** and make it clear to everyone around you that they are lucky to bask in your “CLASSE” existence.
If you’re married, spend your afternoons at the ABC mall as you enjoylimping walking around with high heels on your feet and a stick up your a**. Your Filipino slave maid must be racing after you, carrying all the bags while she watches over your two little monsters who do not have one polite bone in their body because their “CLASSE” mama forgot to do one little thing: be a good mama.
If you’re single, spend your afternoons searching for a “CLASSE” boyfriend according to his daddy’s dollars (doesn’t matter if it’s dirty money . . . money = “CLASSE”). Once you meet this “CLASSE” boyfriend, tell him that you are a virgin (even if you’re not) because only virgins are “CLASSE”. Your nails must always be manicured and your eyebrows always tweezed or the “CLASSE” boyfriend will leave you (yes those are very important criteria for being “CLASSE”).
If you’re married, spend your afternoons at the ABC mall as you enjoy
If you’re single, spend your afternoons searching for a “CLASSE” boyfriend according to his daddy’s dollars (doesn’t matter if it’s dirty money . . . money = “CLASSE”). Once you meet this “CLASSE” boyfriend, tell him that you are a virgin (even if you’re not) because only virgins are “CLASSE”. Your nails must always be manicured and your eyebrows always tweezed or the “CLASSE” boyfriend will leave you (yes those are very important criteria for being “CLASSE”).
If you’re a man, you should always have a nonchalant attitude and an expression on your face that says “I am a billionaire that rules the world. Come, worship me,” even if you’re the biggest loser/poser/fake, people will be impressed by your “CLASSE-ness”. If anyone defies you, you must shout “Bta3rif ana min bkoun?!” (ah yes, you’re that piece of bird crap that’s been stuck on my windshield for two days).
You must have a table at atrendy “CLASSE” club every Saturday night and invite only “CLASSE” people to be seen with you. No table? No way! The manager is your friend and he’ll crap a table out for your royal highness.
A cigar might help you look good too – don’t worry about your breath smelling like dirty socks or about the fact that you’re sucking on something shaped like apenis cylinder. . . just sayin’.
Explain to your girlfriend that she must act “CLASSE” when she’s with you in public; she must laugh in a very low voice, talk to only “CLASSE” people, and not say “Hi” to anyone unless they say “Hi” first.
In brief, all behavior must be planned, constipated, and rehearsed in front of your mirror at least 5 times before you kiss yourbovine divine reflection and leave your house.
You must have a table at a
A cigar might help you look good too – don’t worry about your breath smelling like dirty socks or about the fact that you’re sucking on something shaped like a
Explain to your girlfriend that she must act “CLASSE” when she’s with you in public; she must laugh in a very low voice, talk to only “CLASSE” people, and not say “Hi” to anyone unless they say “Hi” first.
In brief, all behavior must be planned, constipated, and rehearsed in front of your mirror at least 5 times before you kiss your
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
February 14, 2011
Why I Hate Valentine's Day
Whether I am single or in a relationship, Valentine’s Day has always proven to be a cheesy, corny, lovey-dovey, nauseating holiday for me. Call me dark and bitter – I don’t care, but V-Day has become – in my opinion – a “retail holiday” of no essential or valuable meaning whatsoever. I will never understand why people must wait for one specific day to express their love towards each other, or why a measly bouquet of roses that would normally cost 30 USD ends up costing 130 USD on V-Day – talk about price inflation! It may just seem like red roses, red hearts, red teddy bears, and chocolate in red wrappers to the majority of you; but I will take the liberty of sharing my point of view on this oh-so lamer than lame “hallmark holiday”.
Big Girls Like Big Bears: Let us all take a moment to reflect on the significance of an adult (and hopefully mature) woman owning an over-sized teddy bear. What-Is-The-Darn-Point?!I once received a humongous teddy bear on V-Day and cringed at the idea of where I would place it. It serves no purpose whatsoever and has been sitting on the top of my closet, staring down at me for the past few years. Not only is it terrifying, but I had to carry it up several flights of stairs to get it into my home because it simply did not fit in the elevator. Not only did I have acute back pain for days, but I have cursed at every man who buys his woman a teddy bear (on any occasion) and have loathed women who love these useless gifts.
To all bear-loving over-grown females out there: You are not 5 years old anymore – grow up!
To all bear-giving men out there: Instead of paying 200 USD on a giant teddy bear, buy her something useful – like a pair of shoes (which she can at least fit into her bedroom).
Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue: A bouquet of roses is a lovely gesture indeed – and a timeless cliché that I am so sick of, to the extent that I’d like to vandalize every florist from here to Alaska. I would like to meet the person who decided that a red rose is the symbol of everlasting love (or whatever)! Here’s a thought: a red rose wilts and turns black after a few days – if you’d like that to symbolize your love, go ahead. A bouquet of red roses is also absolutely meaningless when it costs more than a dinner for two. A few years ago I received two bouquets of red roses on V-Day; one from an admirer and one from a stalker. As soon as I left the office, I gave one bouquet to my sister as it was her birthday, and gave the other to a homeless boy so that he may sell the roses to passersby. Now that’s how you can make a useless bouquet useful. Don’t get me wrong, I love receiving a bouquet of red roses (preferably not red . . . and not roses) on any random day of the year – just not on V-Day when possibly every other woman in the world is receiving one.
Dinner for two: When a man takes his lady out for dinner, it’s not because he wants to, it’s because she wants to. God forbid he doesn’t take her out for an overpriced, pretentious dinner during which they throw fake smiles and kisses to each other while they nibble on their heart-shaped potatoes.Although I’m a fan of everything fine dining, during V-Day dinner I couldn’t help but notice how stuffy it felt – not only because of my pantyhose, high waste belt and skirt that were suffocating the life out of me, but also because of the people around us who were planning their every move to better fit into the lovey-dovey cliché around them. There were so many rose petals on our table that it looked like a cow had been butchered and was left to die on our table cloth. Every platter served to us contained something shaped like a heart. My boyfriend and I couldn’t stop laughing, and I realized that the only thing I liked about that cheesy, overpriced dinner is the man that I’m with and so next year I’m going to skip dining out and I am going to do something that’s a little more “us”.
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
February 7, 2011
The Waz Waz Show
Clubbing in Lebanon never fails to impress both tourists and Lebanese people living in the country or abroad. From the streets of Gemmayze, Hamra, Monot, Jounieh, and Byblos, to the happening clubs all over Beirut. I have always loved partying and there’s nothing more I enjoy than getting all dressed up and spending the night dancing, but one concept I will never learn to love or understand is the “One Man Show” culture and all that comes with it.
Yuck.
I will be very immature about this in order to avenge my horrible Saturday night; as a result of spending three hours at a certain club . . . notorious for its “One Man Show” (and what a punishment that was). Let me start by saying that I merely existed for 3 hours as I stuffed my ears with rolled up tissue paper to avoid becoming deaf after the Godzilla’s lewd growling (a.k.a. the “One Man Show”) that so many people enjoy oh so much. Although all my brain cells had shut down as a self-defense mechanism, I mustered enough patience and energy to glance around me at what must have been a zoo or brothel. I could not believe what most people were wearing, I could not understand where/how they picked up their offensive dance moves, and I certainly could not understand how they were enjoying that repugnant music.
Yuck.
The clothes: Oh-My-God! Why? Why would a woman purposely want to look like a street prostitute? Even street prostitutes don’t like looking like street prostitutes. The men, oh the men, with their gold chains, hairy chests, and fake True Religion jeans – “1980’s pimp” style, gone bad.
The Fake: So many men and women were wearing fake clothes that my LV bag almost looked as though it was frowning. There are affordable labels everywhere, so if you can’t pay 400 USD for a pair of jeans, it’s fine; go and buy yourself a pair for 50 or 100 dollars. But no, these fakers prefer to spend that 50 USD on buying a fake pair of jeans because they care about the label more than their self-respect. Here’s a newsflash: fake jeans look fake from a mile away! Don’t think for a minute that people don’t notice – they’re probably just too polite to say anything. What about fake bags? Puh-lease! A garbage bag looks more expensive than the fake bags I see with certain girls. Point being, people that don’t wear designer labels aren’t going to know what you’re wearing – whether it’s real or fake, but people who are brand-conscious and actually own the real deal, are going to laugh at your desperate attempt to look stylish/fit in/be cool or whatever your pathetic excuse is.
To continue reading, please follow this link:
I am currently writing a weekly column called "La Wlooo!!" 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.
January 31, 2011
Lose Weight, Feel Sexy, Love Chocolate!
As the New Year dawns on us, we bid farewell to the festive season and not so eagerly welcome the extra pounds that we’ve put on thanks to all the food, alcohol, and bûche de noel. I for one enjoyed overdrinking and overeating like a jolly pig every night for three weeks as if Armageddon was approaching . . . I guess a little too much celebrating, too little exercise, and dose of karma (since I always mock fat people) caught up with me a couple of weeks ago – and while I was in denial, believing that I was suffering from a major case of water retention, the reality of the situation (a.k.a. my jeans) proved that I had simply gained weight! I noticed that so many people I know were going through the same thing and are now running to the gym and to their dietician for some hardcore damage control, “yiii, yaaayyyyy, ya allah, I must lose my extra weight . . . before summer . . . so I can wear my swimming suit”.(lame much?)
I shall call this “a sensitive time” during which we should all show some compassion for each others’ mishap and try to watch our words and behavior as much as we can to avoid tears, anger, and misunderstandings. I for one, vow to not make fun of any fat person anymore . . . at least until this “sensitive time” is over.
I shall call this “a sensitive time” during which we should all show some compassion for each others’ mishap and try to watch our words and behavior as much as we can to avoid tears, anger, and misunderstandings. I for one, vow to not make fun of any fat person anymore . . . at least until this “sensitive time” is over.
Don’t offer a fat kid chocolate cake: These words of wisdom are helpful to every weight-watcher out there. The worst thing you can do to a dieting person is to offer them anything that looks, sounds, or tastes delicious. Same applies to you – if you have a certain friend who knows you’re on a diet, yet doesn’t cease to offer you sugar and spice and all that’s nice, it can only mean one of two things: 1) Your friend is an insensitive, selfish swine who is inconsiderate about your feelings and your cravings. 2) Your friend is devising a master plan to purposely prevent you from losing your extra weight. In any case, stay away from the cake-feeder. In case you’re a cake-feeder yourself, trust that you are hated by so many.Don’t offer vodka to an alcoholic: Let’s face it, most people would stop eating for 3 days in order to binge drink a bottle of vodka – especially when they’re on a “strict diet” (what a way to puncture a hole in your stomach). If you know you have a love affair with bottles of booze, simply stay away from them or limit your drinking to once a week. There is no way that you can be at a bar or a club, surrounded by alcohol-guzzling friends (while you’re sitting there like an old geezer) and not feel the temptation to sneak a sip* (*five drinks). The next day you will only wake up with a headache and a guilty conscience, so steer clear of the booze! In case you’re one of those “Know-it-all” morons who insist that alcohol doesn’t make you gain weight, I’d love it if you could also try to disprove the law of gravity – since you’re so darn bright.
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.
January 23, 2011
Facebook Is Out Of Control!
Every Monday, I post a link to my column on hundreds a few of my friends’ walls, and recently, I must have pissed someone off (Mark Zuckerberg perhaps?) and have lost my “posting URL’s” privileges (I know, what the f***, right?). I received several warnings that my “behavior may be considered abusive to others” and that I may be a spammer or something of the sort (a Facebook robot perhaps) and let me tell you this: I have never been more offended IN-MY-LIFE! It gets better; even my regular posts are being monitored now and I am not allowed to write words such as: “F***, S***, God, or Hell”. I once wrote the word God and received a warning that said “your comment cannot be posted as some of its content may be considered abusive to others” – oh well, sorry Facebook!! I’m sorry, I didn’t know that so many devil worshippers were monitoring my profile and felt offended when I mentioned God! It’s not possible for anyone to hate Facebook more than I do, and after this, I am waging war (against a social network that only exists in my life because I am so pathetically addicted to it). Since Facebook is complaining about my behavior, I would like to return the favor.
Facebook is Nosy: you are asked to provide information about your phone number, home town, current city of residence, job CV, siblings, parents, birthday, who and what you are interested in – Jeez! What’s next, my shoe size? Facebook also wants to know what I’m planning, places I’ve checked in, and wants me to track who is on Facebook because of me. With the new “See Friendship” button, we can all agree that you can find out anything you want about two selected friends and write a full investigative report about their lives. Let’s not forget that most of these people are only best friends on Facebook, and have probably seen each other twice in the past 5 years. Thanks to these invasive informative techniques, I can now receive 500 “Happy Birthday” messages from people who completely forgot I exist – thank you Facebook.
Facebook is Creepy: What’s up with the “photo memories”? I have old photos (of when I was 10 kgs LARGER) that I have erased from my memory; but unfortunately, Facebook hasn’t forgotten about them. Every 2 or 3 days, I see a familiar round, pudgy face staring back at me from the upper right corner of my Facebook page . . . WTF?! The upper right corner also brings you ancient photos of your friends (also looking very bizarre) and I always wonder what the point of that is. I also wonder how many of my “friends” saved my ugly photos only to circulate and laugh about them. The worst is when a stalker steals one or more of these wretched photos to create a fake profile.What I hate most is the horror of connecting to Facebook applications. For example “Tag ‘em may access my data when I’m not using the application” – Umm yes, I really want the Tag ‘em team snooping through my computer while I’m sound asleep at night. After contacting Tag ‘em, it was clarified that all they wanted is access to my Facebook account in order to publish the questions I’ve just answered. Cheers to how Facebook frightened the daylights out of me with its warning message though.
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.
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