They’ve now hit the Facebook Marketplace! Here is the listing:

As you can see it’s too good to be true. And indeed, it is. They’ve hit the consumer’s soft spot – those shiny, exorbitantly expensive Apple products – and offering them for a very good price. They’ve listed their email for further inquiries (a .org) and I sent them an email. I thought they may harvest my email but took the little risk anyway. They replied to me with all the specs but here is what was fishy in their reply:

Right, cuz other than fixing their grammar I will be willing to give someone my full name, full address, phone number, email, and PO Box, probably about all security questions to gain access to my bank records! AAAAND I pay them 850 bucks for it LOL!

Apparently the same item is being listed by several people across several locations (Qatar, KSA, UAE, Oman). Sure, they’ve got an infinite amount of MacBook Pros and iPhone 3GSs to give with the Valentine promotion!

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And I am just as bewildered.

[obvious note: 'adult' content follows. Kids interested in learning about sex should go here]

It happened yesterday, as I was waiting for my friend to arrive. I decided to kill time before lunch by going to the beach (in Ajman) in the middle of the day to enjoy a true winter’s noon – chilly winds and a burning bright sun. My body was perplexed by that very combination, but it felt comfortable to be BBQed at a deceivingly cool temperature.

As I admired the seagulls being chased by a species of roaches I had nightmares about during the night, a portly short man in his 40′s strolled by and commented on the weather as an ice breaker. Having been single for a while I missed the whole point of this cheesy introduction. From his accent I deduced he was Lebanese.

Indeed, I replied, it’s quite nice. The one thing people seeking solitary retreat hate is having someone adulterate the experience with a conversation. The epic battle of mechanical roaches and the majestic griffins (the ancestors of seagulls) that was waging in my head had to be put on hold. The man found it perfectly reasonable to sit at the other end of the bench where I was sitting.

Life is tough, he reminded me, which is why I find the sea relaxing. I have imagined, like countless times before, that a tsunami arrives at that very moment from which a form of Divine sea serpent emerges and swallows the nuisance that arrived in the form of that man. I remained silent. He continued, I got fired from my job and I am taking them to court because they refused to pay me.

It’s not a story I have not experienced myself in one of the agencies I dealt with in my previous job, so I was not interested in hearing it. But the man went on anyway, describing the details of a case and the court hearings and the paperwork and the disputes at the Ministry of Labour, most of which I have blocked out of memory.

Being a nice person that I am, I let him talk, giving him half an ear while my attention was diverted on more important matters, like the fallen commander from the griffin army and the rolling out of the Mass Griffin Annihilator  by the mechanical roach army. But the griffins were an orderly bunch; even without a commander they would follow The Order as has been dictated to them by the Battle Plan. The Mass Griffin Annihilator, however, was unaccounted for, and after a brief moment of confusion, the griffin flying the highest was elected as the new commander. The ritual was a quick one with each griffin giving up a feather, rendering the sky a white confetti flying up in celebration of the soaring new commander.

… and then I knocked on the door and my friend opened it and he was naked. I was snapped back to reality by his shocking switch of topics. He and my Egyptian roommate were sleeping with a Romanian woman at the same time. His C-grade 2 minute porn flick did not interest me in the least but he was far from done. He described to me in detail the times he caught his roommates sleeping with other women or, often, even with another men they brought in. I have no idea why I did not tell the guy to stop. My facial expression was that of disgust and I expressed it verbally but did not manage to explicitly tell him to stop.

He went on describing how his friend got fooled by someone else in a job interview, where the interviewer took his friend to the “site location” where he coerced him into sex and paid him 10,000 AED. Taking people to “site” and forcing them into sex is a cliche story line right out of a 1987 porn movie remake of 1937 Disney’ Snow White.

Then he said something that finally made my brain click: His friend was coerced by the interviewer easily because the interviewer has been talking about sex earlier in order to arouse the man, so that he reaches a state where he will do anything just to experience the pleasure. Not aroused in the slightest, the man sensed it and thought if he let me talk about my sexual experiences I might get aroused and probably succumb to him later on.

With nothing but disgust and disbelief on my face I still did not know why I just didn’t beat the shit out of the guy. Disappointed in my lack of response, he opted for a last resort: to entice sexual feelings through bestiality. As soon as he started to talk about him taping cats mating, even the mechanical roaches told me enough is enough.

You know what, I said, finally, I will leave you to your porn and quickly left. My car was close by but I didn’t wanna risk him knowing what my car is and its number. I feigned hailing a cab until the guy went back to his car and left. A good 20 minutes later I decided to leave.

Recalling the whole scenario, it was karma. Back in college I went out with the guys and did what all guys do: make fun of whores (and some of the guys did a bit more). We hollered from the car asking them how much? before we left them to their devices to grab a bite and head back to the dorms.

Oh dear, what does the future hold!

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أنا ما عندي أي فكرة عن البرنامج بس كونها بتحكي شامي متل إلي داحشه منشر غسيل بالعرض بحنكها، مالي مضطر.

بعدين معلش سمحولي إلي بده هيك منظر، هيفاء وهبي أحلى وعلى الأقل “بتتفنن”، سو تو سبيك يعني!

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It’s either that this time passed (which I know didn’t) or people I surround myself with just rather like to casually say over hookah “Oh btw I got engaged.”

No way! Well I am glad you didn’t tell me before that you were interested in someone because I would have so turned green with envy and put a curse on you that no matter how many anti-voodoo talismans or imams you go to you will never cure it and that I spread the word to everyone you hate so we all conspire against you that how come someone like you can get engaged when we can’t and then I would do my best to ruin your relationship with her so I won’t be the only single guy in the world.

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE <<< inhale
PHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO >>> exhale

Now I know I am also on the other end of the spectrum – I am a diagnosed internet whore – but the humanity I aspire for lies some way in between right?

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In the past four weeks, I skipped 3 Friday prayers. I haven’t missed any since I started ‘practicing’ back in college. Though I am a firm believer that practicing doesn’t only involve praying, or attending Friday, but rather involves a lifestyle. Of course, I am not saying non-believers follow a less morally-sound lifestyle. Not at all. I am equating myself with another believer, only who I didn’t attend the past 3 Fridays, but I don’t feel I have any less faith.

Friday prayers almost became like a chore. I am not talking about going to pray in the baking heat. You also don’t need to cite phrases of the Quran denouncing my faith, that it should not feel like a chore if I were a true believer.

It’s not the act of praying, or going to prayer, or attending it. It’s listening to the guy rambling on the podium.

I don’t know how they do it in other countries. I know how they do it in Syria, in the mosques I attended Fridays there. They were beautiful. In fact, and you can ask, I always went early. I was in the mosque two hours before the prayer, watching how the mosque slowly fills up, how people pray, or read Quran, or talk and converse, how the old men gather around the perimeter and pillars to rest their backs, how kids make noises and giggle outside or in the corner, and how the sun rays filter through the windows. There is an undeniable charm about attending prayer in a mosque, especially Fridays, in Damascus.

Then the preacher talks about important matters or tells an old story and the moral derived out of it, or why people reacted to a situation that way, or the reason behind a revelation of a certain phrase of the Quran. In one remarkable prayer the preacher was on the 86th lesson about the Prophet’s life.

Here, it’s different. It’s dictated, so you can’t escape to another mosque in hope of a better prayer. There used to be an African-American preacher who spoke in English, in a small mosque not too far from my place looking over a canal. I discovered him in the winter months, and I used to pray outside on the open grass. There were so many attendees there, almost 6 times as much as the mosque can handle, all praying outside under the gentle sun. He talked with passion and with respect. He didn’t make us feel guilty or obliged to things with cringed teeth. No. He made us feel happy. He made us feel loved, he made us feel that we would make a better future.

Then he was replaced and no one knew what happened to him.

Now, I go to Friday mass and attend a boring lecture on ludicrous topics, like Islam and Traffic. Traffic is all the rage in the UAE, and suddenly it became a grave sin to not wear a seatbelt, one which we might go to hell for, especially if we were speeding above the “well calculated speed limits  by the God-blessed road and transport authority, may God bless their souls”.

The road and transport authority is responsible for the death of many people thanks to their unplanned, illplanned diversions, and their incompetence to remove debris and concrete blocks protruding halfway through the fast lane. God bless their souls.

I sit and listen to a guy talking in a monotonous tone, making a serious issue out of any laughable, trivial matter. Everything is suddenly forbidden, and no amount of praying will atone our sins. Really. None. Except if God happens to love us and have mercy on us. We should all do nothing all day but weep for mercy. One time I stopped listening, when the guy started selling religion through sex. He had the audacity to tell us of ‘a way that would definitely make our youth rethink religion’. What was that? He said “instead of you sleeping around, turn to God and you are promised so much sexual power in the after life, you will sleep with a woman dedicated to you for so and so years, and when you’re done, another woman comes!”. And the horny bastard starts crying, imagining himself with a year-old erection sleeping with a supermodel.

I couldn’t believe my ears. And he went on and on, describing sex in the afterlife. The guy next to me was snorting and giggling, mumbling curse words under his breath. I should have excused myself out.

And then he inevitably talks about how sinful we are, how hopeless we are, and how powerless we are, and how we have no future, and that we should all give up and weep and literally beg for forgiveness so we might have a chance. Or some other hideous topic, in monotony, like how we should respect our boss, get our salary and shut up, and how our boss should treat us nice as an extra feature.

Is this the God they were told to worship? Strange. The God I know from the Quran is different.

In the area I live in (Sharjah), there are over 700 mosques, I think I read somewhere 971 I don’t recall, and they are not enough. It’s almost a rule that every junction should have a mosque. And that’s not enough. People literally flood the mosques. It will take another 971 mosques to accommodate the surplus people who pray outside.

And to think how many preachers in mosques give crappy speeches.

If you’re in Sharjah of Dubai or Ajman PLEASE tell me of a good mosque where I can pray Friday.

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It’s a different story however when it’s early in the morning and you decided to be a parent and punish your kids by locking them OUTSIDE the apartment.

Where’s the logic? Seriously? Let’s forget the fact that they will wake up the entire building with their wailing. Let’s ignore the lesson they will learn and the fact they won’t disobey you ever again (for the upcoming two hours).

What the FUCK where you thinking? Who the heck locks their kids outside the apartment for 15 minutes? Have you no shame? No heart?! What if the kids decided to do something funny, like, run away, or something? The poor kid was banging his head on the door begging to be let in!

Now I understand parents may have unorthodox ways to raise kids, but you can go to great lengths and be creative in ways of punishment but there are psychological limits and throwing your kids outside the house… let’s hope they don’t get a liking to a maul when they grow older.

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Sunday mornings are notorious for their unexplained traffic. You’d think that everyone works every day of the working week. But I have come to the  conclusion that there is a Secret Society that only operates on Sunday. This Secret Society’s job is to unleash countless cars onto the roads to cause traffic jams and set your mood to FUCK OFF for the rest of the week.

Today, the Secret Society have upped the ante.

I live in one of the busiest areas in town, mostly because it is located on one of the primary entrances/exits between Sharjah and Dubai. I park my car across the road, which saves me a solid 40+  minutes alone from doing a uturn.

This morning, I crossed the road like I usually do, turned on the car, and sat there for two hours.

Yes you read that right.

I don’t know what the fudge was going on, but in two hours not one car moved a single inch. Almost everyone left their cars and headed to the many cafeterias located around to get a bite and some coffee or tea. Other people were taking videos of the massive congregation of cars and people lying about. Yet some others were asking people who were on balconies to relay what was going on as seen from “up there”.

Apparently no one knows what was going on. Traffic was at a complete standstill.

I spent the two hours reading Fragile Things, not a necessarily enthralling book but a form of entertainment nontheless. It slipped my mind to cross the street back to my place and get the camera and take photos of the event.

Eventually the police arrived from the opposite side of the road and thought it would be a wise idea to block the whole road off. Yes – we were all quarantined, right in front of my building.

Heh, wtf!

Three hours later we made it to work.

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So here goes another day, when I log in to my deviantART account to find it magically blocked by everyone’s favorite internet provider, Etisalat.

So first we grow up under the impression that art is freedom of expression. It is a form where you can visualize your imagination, build worlds for others to breathe and live in. Art is anything you want it to be. It takes on any form and format, and transcends the ordinary to the extraordianry.

Then we grow up.

We grow up to find our teachers and parents telling us this is wrong. This is done wrong. You play the violin wrong. The piano strokes are too strong. The painting is a mess. The people in the photo are not dressed up for a portrait. The lines shouldn’t intersect. The fonts don’t match. BLA BLA BLA

Now people argue, if I vomit on a piece of paper, would it be art? As revolting as it is, it may be called art in some weird way.

Sure, there are “general guidelines” so that art is elevated from ordinary to beautiful. I understand that. And sure, I understand that some people can get creative enough to create their own guidelines, break old conceptions and come up with something great.

Which makes it understandable that deviantART is both devious and artistic.

WHAT I DON’T UNDERSTAND IS WHY THE HECK ETISALAT DECIDES TO BLOCK THE SITE!

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An international relief agency executive called on the international community to help children in Gaza, whom he said are literally facing extinction as a result of almost two years of an Israeli blockade against the strip. – Gulfnews

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

A few minutes ago on Al-Jazeera, a major in the Israeli army was asked if those little kids were on the list of “terrorists” that are to be killed.

Earlier they were listing every single leader I have heard of condemning the assault on Gaza that left 225 dead (as of this writing), and an urgent Arab Summit is to be called.

Till when is condemnation a sufficient “action”?

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Daily homicides and maid suicide stories notwithstanding of course.

Dubai isn’t too worried about terrorists flying through their well built and marvelously engineered works of art to bring them down.

They’re doing a pretty good job getting people killed without any external help. I don’t have the exact report but if you’ve been keeping track of construction “incidents” related to poor health and safety protocols you’d get a formidable sum of labourers who lost their lives.

Just this morning, a monolith crane (yes, crane) tumbled down on unsuspecting people in the middle of Sheikh Zayed Road – arguably the most commuted road in the whole country.

WTF? Yup, wtf as much as you want at the following photos.

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While stories of people in coma on the news is not uncommon, what shocked me the most were the series of archived articles related to the main story.

I went through all of them to discover that this woman, who had a stroke while shopping in 2004, has been abandoned by her husband and her family, and has been taken care of at the hospital’s expense for five years.

First off kudos to the hospital for treating a patient like any hospital should.

Secondly, WTF?!

This married woman was abandoned by her husband and her family! Several Finnish people in the UAE have tried contacting the embassy but the woman was also abandoned by her government.

Outrageous!

The news made it to Finland a couple of months ago where people shared more than what’s on their mind. The woman was finally taken back to her country where she was (while in coma) reunited with her (obviously) not too happy husband.

How could someone just abandon their wife, mother, daughter, heck… citizen!

In related coma news, a mother whose daughter is in a coma is asking the government to help sponsor a care taker for her (as she cannot afford it), and the government is refusing – even though Gulf News readers donated enough money to afford a care taker.

WTF!

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Please!

I beg you to stop for a moment and think of what the F you are doing!

For the past few months I have been seeing the most horrid things done by parents to their kids (babies and toddlers). I swear if there were social services here witnessing such scenes they’d have the whole family not only deported but permanently exported out of this planet.

Case A: I live in cozy neighborhood that has a notrious reputation for heavy traffic at certain hours. There is a roundabout in the middle of the road. One day my friend picked me up and we were doing a “u-turn” on the roundabout when a stupid father (who was on the phone) was pushing the baby stroller/pram/buggy thing ON THE STREET against traffic! And was attempting to CROSS the damn roundabout PUSHING THE BABY FIRST (while still talking on the phone). My friend (who was driving) went around the roundabout again and we waved for the cars to stop so the imbecile can cross… and his hand DIDN’T LEAVE THE EFFING PHONE!

Case B: I was with my sister and a friend of ours waiting outside Chilis for our table to be cleaned up. There was a woman sitting with a stroller and a baby inside. Upon inspection it was pretty obvious that the baby isn’t hers… and that she is a caretaker (who wasn’t paying attention to the stroller by the way but was doing other stuff). Where are the parents? They were both inside, eating. There are many things wrong in this scenario, on many different levels!

Case C: In the mall I was going up an escalator when, on the other side (escalator going down) I see a dad trying to be funny, who has the stroller on the escalator (which is a felony in itself) and is tilting it up and down so that the baby could “see” his death (and making scary noises). The kid was just too bewildered to scream!

I could go on forever… like people who are feeding a pizza to a toddler, like parents who bring their babies to an effing shisha place (enclosed, not open), like people who take their babies to a rock concert (hellooooooooo eardrums!) and the list goes on…

So if you have a baby, take a minute and reconsider how the heck you’re treating him/her!

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