This morning, the suggestion was for an awesome photographer who’s only link between the two of us is his presence on my Google’s RSS and a comment or two on his photo blog.

My privacy settings are super strict and I have blocked almost all FB application in existence except “the obvious ones” like wall and photos and whatnot.

I may have posted one of his photos on my wall. Could it be that FB was intelligent enough to match the URL to an existing profile? Or is Google conspiring against me!? Behavioral ads?

In any case as long as it doesn’t reveal I am an Angelina Jolie fetishist or questionable RSS feeds I have, I will try to move on

*expects Qwaider to give a lecture and a 3-post followup*

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Anyhow.

A dear friend of mine is going through some trouble. Some major trouble. The Women kind of trouble. Specifically, the wedding was called off a week before the date.

Yup.

Being quite notorious for my willingness to offer help, he turned to me to console him and give him a helping hand through the mess he’s in. And, as usual, I took it upon myself to help in any way possible.

Which means Psycho Mode.

I am one who believes that to truly help someone you need to know how they think, analyze, experience, feel and quantify. Which means that I have to live like him, breathe like him, and go on my day like him. For a short while.

So yes, it means I have to be depressed. About something. About a called off wedding.

Which means I have to invent a love affair in my head, out of imagination, similar enough to his. Which means I now smoke, make a mess of the house, not shave, not answer all phone calls, and drive around town at 3 AM listening to Chris de Burg and other utterly depressing love songs from 1980-1995.

The only thing I am not able to do is not to eat. I can’t not eat. It’s… ridiculous not to eat. I can’t just sit and watch someone eat something and not have it. With a side dish. And dessert. And juice. Then tea. Then probably Cinnabon. And a turkey sandwich later on. Ooooh, Baskin Robins chocolate ice cream with hot fudge. And nuts. And then at night some beer and Twix ice cream after shawerma. Yes yes. And before I go to bed some good ol’ fried eggs, shower and then banana milkshake.

In any case, yeah, I am a total mess right now, and the funny part is that I am aware I am in a total mess of my own creation, and I can switch back and forth if need be, like when I talk to mom or when I have to give him advice from a “bird’s eye view”.

So in the end, you might ask: Did anything come out of this? The answer is yes: I CAN’T STAND THE MESS IN THE BEDROOM AND THE OCD IS DRIVING ME INSANE! I sleep now in the living room because there is no space on both beds from the clutter.

The real psycho part about all this? I am actually happy! And depressed of course because my wedding was called off.

Don’t you just love being me

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The lyrics are just sensational! Shed 7elak estaz Jad, you’ve got solid competition here

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Yes!

He told me he SNEEZED at the poor little animal! WHY? Because Peter was nibbling on Hamza’s toes while he was drilling through someone’s skull in Silent Hill.

Don’t believe me?

Here is a SCREENSHOT of said confession!

And not only that! But he is also blaming fellow blogger tooteh for recruiting him to carry out this vile act! In the name of vengeance!

Now sound off your options and take a poll on the right on how to deal with that imbecile!

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Two bloggers have quit on us!

I call upon the blogging community to help bring them back! Let us try everything in our power to bring their asses back here! Even if it involves lying and telling them they have amazing blogs!

Blogger A: Maher!

What the ef! Really! I suspect one of his many girlfriends found out about his blog, and he went into trouble! Too bad he is not MAN ENOUGH to put his foot down and claim his rights!

BRING MAHER BACK!

How else are we going to wage war between men and women?! Now that Qwaider is married and Maher gone, it puts me in a difficult situation! MAHER COME BACK! OTHERWISE THESE WOMEN WOULD STOMP ME! (coming to think of it, it doesn’t sound like a bad thing)

Blogger B: Hani!

ZOMG!

TEH one and only Hani had his site terminated! Pay your bills Hani and COME BACK PROMPTLY! You were the only voice of reason and intelligence around here! Who would be able to draw the connections between nonsensical things BUT you!

And how dare you leave the atheist community against us barbaric believers! Shame on you for betraying your kind!

BRING HANI BACK!

Flood both of them with emails, explain to them in detail how their absence from your lives would lead you to suicide (and no one wants that on their conscience!). Elaborate using tried-and-true methods that they are NEEDED in the sphere! (ie women can use their Guilt Cards and Emotional Blackmail).

Go to their facebook pages and bombard them with questions that demand answering!

Organize protests!

Do whatever you could!

BRING THOSE IMBECILES BACK!

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Well it did! Here’s the story.

Thursday night I was going out to pick up my friends and I stopped on the way over a bridge to take a photo of the traffic below. You know, for the upcoming TTL (which might be slightly delayed). I went down from my car and realized that I forgot the batteries at home. I got back into the car and drove off.

Little did I know that my wallet had dropped on the road right there and then.

I noticed the missing item within minutes as my internal clock triggered an OCD-checkup on all items in the car to ensure they’re all in their designated compartments. I went back to the site and searched to no avail. I went OCD on my car; nothing. I called up the bank to block my account and I went to the police station to file a report for my driving license and my missing wallet.

Sunday, 12:23 AM, I get a phone call from a local number. A guy who can barely speak English and no other language communicated to me that he has my wallet and I have to meet him. He decided to meet me in the mall parking lot (2 minutes from my place).

I went to the mall (which I knew is still open) and didn’t find anyone who looked like he was waiting for me. I called back, he didn’t pick up. After half an hour (and the mall closed) I went back home.

Then he called again, and told me he is leaving and will be there in 20 minutes.

My videogame-based mind started its permuations through my “history logs” and I picked up a possible threat. Empty parking lot behind the mall at 1:30 past midnight? It has GTA written all over it.

I called the cops, gave them the numbers I got contacted from and they told me they’d send some patrol to my area.

Meanwhile, I utilized the 20 minutes and made a tour around the mall to check all possible places where I can escape from (or get attacked from) if I am in or out of the car. I saw the police patrol and we discussed my concern. They had a list of gangs/criminals they’re looking for whom they suspect “do their business” in this area. They decided to conceal themselves.

mall with parking

I waited in the car, rolled down the windows only enough for me to get some fresh air, locked the doors, put the handbrakes down and gear on D for an easy escape when needed.

Three men approached. I made a quick scan of the surroundings for more people. There were some labormen. I tried not to be paranoid, but I remained cautious – ie not to escape through that route. I used EagleVision to check questionable portrudings in their pockets (weapons) and made sure their hands were always facing front.

The guy started talking to me, asking questions about the contents of the wallet. Fine, I thought. All is good. Their country of origin though is politically questionable.

He took out my wallet to hand it over. ie, I had to roll down my window. That was the cue for the cops.

Within seconds, they came out and grinded to a halt next to me. One of the guys was in total shock, one remained calm and the third rushed to the police vehicle. The cop talked to him while the second cop kept an eye on the other two. What upset me was that the police car blocked my escape route.

While I was mad at myself for not having put the police car into my escape formula (and mentally trying to load the “Load Saved Game” menu to redo the whole thing), the cops sorted out their business and I was given my wallet back, all items and money intact.

I went back home, thanked the people, and reminded myself that there are still some honest folks out there. Still, I will have my license replaced. You know, just in case I was wrong

ZOMG am turning into Qwaider LOL!

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