I watched the new superman movie,, it was cool,, but it brought about a lot of superhero movie talk.. I will say one thing about the movie though, DC did sort out the Kryptonite Condom debate..
The Superman debacle..
According to some, he is the most powerful superhero in the fictional realm of comic books.. he may have x-ray vision, super strength, the power of flight and all that good stuff; but I just don’t think Superman is the greatest superhero ever… my statement caused a little bit of ruckus.. my point being that Kryptonite is superman’s weakness, find enough of it and he’s a goner.. you build a cage out of kryptonite, terrorize some woman and hold her hostage, have her scream help, superman will fly in to save the day, pull the lever and drop the kryptonite cage, and superman’s yours.. the oldest trick in the book, and I’m positive he’ll fall for it.. cause he’s that much of a goody two shoes..
Would it kill Superman to use his powers for a little personal betterment.. if you had superman’s powers, how would you use them? Would you go out and risk your life day in day out to save those in need? Personally, the first person I would help is me.. here are just some of the things I would use my superpowers for, off the top of my head..
x-ray vision: a superpower with endless potential.. apart from the obvious of checking out what’s underneath that pretty dress - I would hit Vegas and gamble my heart’s content, using my powers at the blackjack and poker tables.. all in? you’re on bitch... Hit me, I said HIT ME DAMMIT!! I would also fuck around with all the hustlers on the streets of all major cities with the “follow the queen” card game, or the famous find the nut under the cup (or whatever that game’s called). Make some quick cash, and when they come to mug me and steal the money back, I’d beat them into next tuesday with my super strength. Ladies, the locker room will also be free territory, and you better believe that I will.. umm huhh.. Giving public speeches would never be easier, instead of just picturing everyone naked, you can actually see them naked.. I’d never pick the short straw.. life would be good..
super strength: apart from the obvious of twisting metal bars like balloon sculptures at birthday parties.. “here ya go kid, it’s a giraffe” CRUNCH!! “ohh hehehh excuse me, I forgot, your little 7 year old body can’t hold onto the weight.. what was I thinking.. heehehhee little fella musta broke a rib or something..” I would also forget about parallel parking, just pick up the car and safely place it in its parking spot.. compete in the world arm wrestling tournament and kick ass.. and I would bitch slap Hulk Hogan for the Ultimate Warrior.. I would definitely wrestle a rhino for my daily workout..
super speed: I’d compete in the Olympics as Bahrain’s only athlete, and win every single gold medal.. I’d then take all the gold medals, melt them into one huge medal and wear that around my neck, as a true Olympian..
flight: fly right up to a commercial airplane in mid flight and hang out on the wing waving at passengers.. I would fly into every single concert and major sporting event without paying for my tickets.. go on a tandem skydive and then freak the jumper attached to me, and not pull the cord.. Start up a pizza delivery service with pizzas flown directly from naples… I would fly up Everest, then take a leak off the top and take a picture of that.. I would definitely do you know what in mid air flight..
icy breath / heat vision: hey buddy, what the beer’s warm? No problem.. cue in icy breath.. here’s your ice cold beverage.. yeah what would you do without me.. you wanna see something cool? I can bbq those steaks with my heat vision.. cue in heat ray with accompanying heat ray sound.. how do you like yours done, medium rare? Sure baby.. and might I add, that’s some sexy underwear you have on..
What would you do with your superhuman powers, if you had them?
Another thought I had in regards to the whole superhero meditative sessions, is: what are the insurance premiums in these cities that house superheroes like? Will your car insurance have maniacal villain coverage? How about buildings? Who would insure and then who would reinsure? I’m interested to know someone’s theories on the structure of the insurance industry in these superhero cities…
It’s Thursday, give me a break..
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Sunday, July 09, 2006
go ask alice
‘Twas late on a Thursday night, which in a technicality would’ve made it a Friday morning.. Well past the birthdays fêtes, bon voyages, and your run of the mill weekend of merriment - I end up at a friends place.. The dwellings of said friend is in a compound of houses designed long long ago in a time far far forgotten.. The house has a lot of character and has been the source of interesting conversations, sounds, stories, and theories: the wooden ceiling in one room is warped like waves, remnants of previous tenants such as Asian characters etched on the doors, weird noises of what we think is a mongoose living in the pitched roof, and stories that we ourselves have lived out between these walls.. like I says, the house has lots of interesting character(s)..
Well past the witching hour, inside in a muddled trip of the warped wavy ceiling and the English mustard colored walls, I listen to the Sherpa pluck his guitar. Throwing licks together, his music makes the room a lot weirder than it already is… I compose myself an excuse and decide that retiring for the evening (or morning) might not be a regretful decision.. wafting past the cigarette smoke, empty bottles, and waves of conversation, I make my way out of the room, to the door, but not before a trip to the washroom for a quick pre-drive slash..
Exiting the house, the darkness swallows my world. Only a white light from the house gates illuminates the walk to my transportation.. Embarking on my 36 step trek past the confines of the house, I come across the most peculiar of characters to encounter on a pre-sunrise homeward bound slog..
In complete late late night silence, frozen, I stand face to face with the definitive example of literary inspired hallucinations, a white rabbit… As the spirit of Lewis Carroll laughed over my head, I start to formulate scenarios: number 1: Stop drinking Absinthe, even if it’s not the really real shit. Did someone poison one of my many tumblers? What sort of hallucination is this? Will the walrus make an appearance? Is this real? Someone put the kettle on? Will the rabbit lead me down a hole? A very happy un-birthday to you too edu. Will the red pill give me truth or should i take the blue one and remain ignorant. Is an attempt for contact with the rabbit in order? I need to investigate the verity of this image..
Just as I contemplated touching the white rabbit, the image of the killer beast from Monty Python and the Holy Grail populates my imagination.. As asinine as it sounds, the thought of a carnivorous white rabbit gnawing off my legs did put me off contact.. time ticking on by as it would for gunslingers at high noon, the notion of proof would be the ultimate savoir to my neuroticism..
Turning the flash on my camera-phone-life-dependent-apparatus, I adjust my stance to capture the rabbit.. in reply, he turns to face me and poses for the picture..
then, in an act that I deem out of character for a white rabbit (but not substantiated since I don’t know any white rabbits or their habits), he hops onto the path by my feet and gets even closer.. Is it trying to tell me something? should I follow him? Is this magic? Someone trapped in this body of a rabbit? Is this djin? He’s at the door to the house, should I let him in? Contemplating my queries, my head begins to ache, or that could have been the circumstances of my demeanor.. I decide to gather further evidence and take another picture..
The idea of ringing the doorbell was a plausible one; bring the guys outside and ask them if they see what I’m seeing.. Maybe I should let the rabbit into the house, cause the thought of it being the spirit of a previous tenant who died there was not too far out of my head..
and then in a moment of clarity, I looked at the time, assessed my state just before sunrise, reflected on my drive home, looked at the comrade in question, and decided that sleep sounds much better than running around the garden trying to follow a silly fucking rabbit...
Well past the witching hour, inside in a muddled trip of the warped wavy ceiling and the English mustard colored walls, I listen to the Sherpa pluck his guitar. Throwing licks together, his music makes the room a lot weirder than it already is… I compose myself an excuse and decide that retiring for the evening (or morning) might not be a regretful decision.. wafting past the cigarette smoke, empty bottles, and waves of conversation, I make my way out of the room, to the door, but not before a trip to the washroom for a quick pre-drive slash..
Exiting the house, the darkness swallows my world. Only a white light from the house gates illuminates the walk to my transportation.. Embarking on my 36 step trek past the confines of the house, I come across the most peculiar of characters to encounter on a pre-sunrise homeward bound slog..
In complete late late night silence, frozen, I stand face to face with the definitive example of literary inspired hallucinations, a white rabbit… As the spirit of Lewis Carroll laughed over my head, I start to formulate scenarios: number 1: Stop drinking Absinthe, even if it’s not the really real shit. Did someone poison one of my many tumblers? What sort of hallucination is this? Will the walrus make an appearance? Is this real? Someone put the kettle on? Will the rabbit lead me down a hole? A very happy un-birthday to you too edu. Will the red pill give me truth or should i take the blue one and remain ignorant. Is an attempt for contact with the rabbit in order? I need to investigate the verity of this image..
Just as I contemplated touching the white rabbit, the image of the killer beast from Monty Python and the Holy Grail populates my imagination.. As asinine as it sounds, the thought of a carnivorous white rabbit gnawing off my legs did put me off contact.. time ticking on by as it would for gunslingers at high noon, the notion of proof would be the ultimate savoir to my neuroticism..
Turning the flash on my camera-phone-life-dependent-apparatus, I adjust my stance to capture the rabbit.. in reply, he turns to face me and poses for the picture..
then, in an act that I deem out of character for a white rabbit (but not substantiated since I don’t know any white rabbits or their habits), he hops onto the path by my feet and gets even closer.. Is it trying to tell me something? should I follow him? Is this magic? Someone trapped in this body of a rabbit? Is this djin? He’s at the door to the house, should I let him in? Contemplating my queries, my head begins to ache, or that could have been the circumstances of my demeanor.. I decide to gather further evidence and take another picture..
The idea of ringing the doorbell was a plausible one; bring the guys outside and ask them if they see what I’m seeing.. Maybe I should let the rabbit into the house, cause the thought of it being the spirit of a previous tenant who died there was not too far out of my head..
and then in a moment of clarity, I looked at the time, assessed my state just before sunrise, reflected on my drive home, looked at the comrade in question, and decided that sleep sounds much better than running around the garden trying to follow a silly fucking rabbit...
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Important music at one point in my life
I was in Junior High… my brother had just come back to visit from college… a forgotten tape lay there in the car – it contained music that would forever change my life… The tape was labeled “Slutting” – that’s all, it had no pornographic or crass references – just slutting and a piece of artwork that reminded me of something by Frank Miller… The funny thing about the tape is that it only had music on one side... It was given to my brother by a high school friend of his –my first encounter with what today you’d call a hipster – I would label her my first alternative indie rock crush… The track list was typed up on an old school dot matrix printer and said “Ani DiFranco (Out of Range)”… Disclaimer: I did some research and found out that Ani DiFranco released Out of Range in 1994 – which couldn’t be true because I was in high school in 1994… I’ve verified the dates with my brother and he’s corroborated my time order… He did mention that the hipster friend was really into the underground indie scene in the early 90s, that she could have very well had a bootleg… I’m still searching for a garage band called “Red October Conspiracy a Go Go” – she was definitely a cool cat…
On drives to and from school we had our tapes: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice In Chains, Faith no More, Soundgarden, (kids running around wearing Doc Martens and flannel shirts in the heat – it was grunge in the desert)… Ani Difranco had a different sound than I had ever heard, it wasn’t grunge, it wasn’t screaming through the speaker, it was a female’s vocals that sounded so warming and caring, but so hurt and misunderstood. I couldn’t tell what Ani was about, some of her songs were about love, but you weren’t sure whether she was singing to a man or a woman… She had moments of dancey indie rock and tunes of extreme heartache and pain. My little sister and I soon found ourselves constantly listening to the tape that would forever refine our taste in music… whether we were going to bounce around in the car to “Out of Range” or we were going to Cry about the fact that track three was about a sad stripper who was abused at a very young age; or how about how you are a china shop and I am a bull… we were listening to music that was much older than we could understand – but we loved it… Looking back, my kid sister may have been a little too young to listen to Ani, but she turned out much cooler than the rest of her siblings so I’m gonna let it slide..
You also have to remember, this was Bahrain pre 1994… There were 3 shops on the island that actually had CDs; cassettes were in abundance, but due to no copyright laws, they were all faked up copies… The music that made its way to Bahrain was also very popular – we were lucky that there was a decent rock following, so there was also acceptable rock music to get your hands on – but everything we had was still mainstream… I had to wait till I went away on my summer vacation to find out who Ani DiFranco was… walking into a tower records and asking the guy for an Ani Difranco cd… his blank “cannot compute” look at the little man (me) looking for bisexual indie college folk rock was soon replaced with him putting some cds in my hand.. It was there and then that I developed my crush for Ani DiFranco and her music…
Y’see, while my friends were just getting into girls, I was getting into Bisexual girls.. I know I know, perverted at such a young age, I agree, but at least I wasn’t drooling over the latest teeny bopper – I went for the artistic icon.. But it wasn’t just because she was a hottie that dug both men and women.. Ani refused to become a slave to the music industry… She pulled up her shirt and flashed Universal, Emi, Geffen and all those Big record labels that were milking it, her beautiful breasts and then pulled her shirt down and walked away.. She formed Righteous Babe Records, and did her music her way.. In an industry, where the big record labels easily dupe so many musicians to following trends, into signing off their lives, Ani stuck her ground, and that made me love her even more..
As the years piled on, my relationship with Ani blossomed and faltered – new genres of sounds were being incorporated in my library and I wanted to explore. In college I went to see her in concert – she sat there on stage looking into the crowd and poured her heart through the microphone.. She spoke back to us, teased us, laughed with and loved us.. Her sound brought back all those years of playing that tape over and over again.. all those junior high fantasies about a singer songwriter that touched me, in so many ways.. ehhehehh..
Many days have rolled on by since I listened to her music – I don’t know if I flooded my eardrums with so much of her sound that I wanted a change. Or maybe because I had to give up my life as a college student .. no matter what – I’ll always love you Ani.. always..
Sunday, July 02, 2006
world cup 2006,,
my thoughts so far...
Insta-pundits: I cannot stand how people who never watch football, come in during the world cup and voice their opinion on the beautiful game… I’ve been hearing so much flak about the Italian national team constantly diving and making a meal out of every foul.. Diving in Italy is snidely accepted in the Serie A, but lets face it, everyone does it these days, you can’t just say that the Italians are the worst divers. If a player thinks he can get away with it, then he will try. Plus you don’t know what’s going on with the team when they’re a man down and are trying to win the game, you’ll resort to anything, even playing the foul to your advantage. The Australia Italy game was fodder for the amateur spectators to come in with their once every 4 years analysis to talk their shit.. you don’t understand the game, or watch the game regularly enough to know what the hell is happening with the history, the grudges, the rule changes, the officiating.. but because you’ve been watching the world cup these past couple of weeks you’re instantly transformed into pundit?
Gloating: to all you fans that said brazil or argentina were gonna win the world cup : muahahahaaaa.. I told you all that a South American team will not win the world cup in 2006.. I showed you the trends of the world cup winners bouncing between Europe and south america, I explained the two anomalies that occurred for italy and brazil winning it twice in a row.. but none of you listened.. I explained it all to you, but no one listened.. you were all wowed by the starting lineups, throwing names of champions.. It’s an all European semifinal fiasco and that can only mean one thing…
too bad for the English yesterday… I was cheering them on, & honestly believed they had a fantastic chance to win the world cup. They scraped through every single game, and when they needed to explode and step into proper form to lead them to the finals, they couldn’t do it. There are a couple of things that I would like to point out.. One of the senior players should’ve spoken to wayne rooney before the match and warned him of retaliating against carvalho. His reputation precedes him, you can’t pull that kind of shit in the world cup quarterfinals (three feet from the ref nonetheless) – everyone needed to keep their cool & the ref was looking for something. Owen Hargreaves’ performance should cement his position as the holding midfielder for England. Frank Lampard, a midfielder, can lead the scoring charts all year long for Chelsea, the team that pays him a seriously ridiculous amount of money per week - but he can’t do it for his own country? Steven Gerrard, who countless times has stepped up for big games and come out a champion, fizzles when they need him the most? Peter Crouch, for all his lanky x-factor sucked in front of the goal.. Sven, why did you bring Walcott to Germany if you had no intention of playing him? Why not take Defoe? I wouldn’t have taken Crouch in the first place… Substituting Aaron Lennon?? Subbing the substitute for penalties? Did you even make them practice penalties? I just think Sven tactically crumbled yesterday, and I personally don’t think Steve McLaren is the man for the job (although he is a good coach) – Right now, the English need Gus Hiddink.. too bad for the fans, the atmosphere they created during the game was incredible.. you can’t beat the English fans at spirit..
Politics of another country: During the Ghana game against the Czech Republic, John Pantsil, a Ghanian Player pulled out the Israeli Flag hidden in his sock and and waved it around when both goals were scored. The Ghanaian Football Association, apologized stating that they have nothing to do with politics they’re just here to play football and that the player was just naive. He was claiming that since he plays in the Israeli league he was supporting the fans that traveled from Israel to support him. Revealing a message under your jersey when you score has been banned and can be considered inciting the crowd.. so how come pulling out a flag and waving it above your head not be seen as inciting the crowds? Are you here to play football or make a statement?? And During the middle of the game?? He didn’t even score the goals.. look, if he wanted to show support to the fans that traveled to see him after the final whistle was blown, pull out the flag and wave it all around, that’s fine.. but during the middle of the game? Again, this isn’t a political comment I’m making.. I’m just saying, I don’t think that celebrating your country’s goals during the world cup is the more appropriate time to wave the flag of another country, because you’re showing support to your fans..
Conspiracies Galore: After the scandal that’s being unearthed in Italy right now, it’s difficult to watch the world cup and feel nothing’s been staged.. Moggi and Co. controlled the outcomes of a lot of games for so many years – everyone talked about something fishy going on, but for it to go on for that many years? they cheated, who’s to say that when you see something during the world cup right now, it’s not already been decided..
So now you’ve lost Brazil and I’ve lost England.. You’ve still got Germany and I’ve still got Italy..
FORZA AZZURRI
Insta-pundits: I cannot stand how people who never watch football, come in during the world cup and voice their opinion on the beautiful game… I’ve been hearing so much flak about the Italian national team constantly diving and making a meal out of every foul.. Diving in Italy is snidely accepted in the Serie A, but lets face it, everyone does it these days, you can’t just say that the Italians are the worst divers. If a player thinks he can get away with it, then he will try. Plus you don’t know what’s going on with the team when they’re a man down and are trying to win the game, you’ll resort to anything, even playing the foul to your advantage. The Australia Italy game was fodder for the amateur spectators to come in with their once every 4 years analysis to talk their shit.. you don’t understand the game, or watch the game regularly enough to know what the hell is happening with the history, the grudges, the rule changes, the officiating.. but because you’ve been watching the world cup these past couple of weeks you’re instantly transformed into pundit?
Gloating: to all you fans that said brazil or argentina were gonna win the world cup : muahahahaaaa.. I told you all that a South American team will not win the world cup in 2006.. I showed you the trends of the world cup winners bouncing between Europe and south america, I explained the two anomalies that occurred for italy and brazil winning it twice in a row.. but none of you listened.. I explained it all to you, but no one listened.. you were all wowed by the starting lineups, throwing names of champions.. It’s an all European semifinal fiasco and that can only mean one thing…
too bad for the English yesterday… I was cheering them on, & honestly believed they had a fantastic chance to win the world cup. They scraped through every single game, and when they needed to explode and step into proper form to lead them to the finals, they couldn’t do it. There are a couple of things that I would like to point out.. One of the senior players should’ve spoken to wayne rooney before the match and warned him of retaliating against carvalho. His reputation precedes him, you can’t pull that kind of shit in the world cup quarterfinals (three feet from the ref nonetheless) – everyone needed to keep their cool & the ref was looking for something. Owen Hargreaves’ performance should cement his position as the holding midfielder for England. Frank Lampard, a midfielder, can lead the scoring charts all year long for Chelsea, the team that pays him a seriously ridiculous amount of money per week - but he can’t do it for his own country? Steven Gerrard, who countless times has stepped up for big games and come out a champion, fizzles when they need him the most? Peter Crouch, for all his lanky x-factor sucked in front of the goal.. Sven, why did you bring Walcott to Germany if you had no intention of playing him? Why not take Defoe? I wouldn’t have taken Crouch in the first place… Substituting Aaron Lennon?? Subbing the substitute for penalties? Did you even make them practice penalties? I just think Sven tactically crumbled yesterday, and I personally don’t think Steve McLaren is the man for the job (although he is a good coach) – Right now, the English need Gus Hiddink.. too bad for the fans, the atmosphere they created during the game was incredible.. you can’t beat the English fans at spirit..
Politics of another country: During the Ghana game against the Czech Republic, John Pantsil, a Ghanian Player pulled out the Israeli Flag hidden in his sock and and waved it around when both goals were scored. The Ghanaian Football Association, apologized stating that they have nothing to do with politics they’re just here to play football and that the player was just naive. He was claiming that since he plays in the Israeli league he was supporting the fans that traveled from Israel to support him. Revealing a message under your jersey when you score has been banned and can be considered inciting the crowd.. so how come pulling out a flag and waving it above your head not be seen as inciting the crowds? Are you here to play football or make a statement?? And During the middle of the game?? He didn’t even score the goals.. look, if he wanted to show support to the fans that traveled to see him after the final whistle was blown, pull out the flag and wave it all around, that’s fine.. but during the middle of the game? Again, this isn’t a political comment I’m making.. I’m just saying, I don’t think that celebrating your country’s goals during the world cup is the more appropriate time to wave the flag of another country, because you’re showing support to your fans..
Conspiracies Galore: After the scandal that’s being unearthed in Italy right now, it’s difficult to watch the world cup and feel nothing’s been staged.. Moggi and Co. controlled the outcomes of a lot of games for so many years – everyone talked about something fishy going on, but for it to go on for that many years? they cheated, who’s to say that when you see something during the world cup right now, it’s not already been decided..
So now you’ve lost Brazil and I’ve lost England.. You’ve still got Germany and I’ve still got Italy..
FORZA AZZURRI
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Streaming Consciousness
No stimulants, no chemicals, no spirits, no elixirs, just my imagination and some thoughts that’ve bounced around today..
Sex with a puffin was interesting until she asked if she could read me some Attar, he’s cool I suppose, but I then decided she was getting a little too spiritual for spirit’s sake. The only place I wanna conference birds is between the sheets. I asked her if she had anything to eat, she complained about not having any time to hit the super, so I ended up snacking on some seeds. She wanted a "sit down" regarding our commitment, I told her that I ain’t no goose. She cried and I left.. probably for the best, my breath always smelt of herring and she always beat me at Mancala. I hate losing at Mancala.
And then there were three: the coat check girl of a gentlemen’s club, a carnival ride operator, and a librarian’s assistant.. it was a task and a half trying to negotiate their way out of the giant mosquito’s nest – but the promise of thirteen pints of blood from a satanic virgin goat in heat was too good to pass up, the Giant Mosquito thought. they had 23 hours and 42 minutes to come good with the plasma or else it was their haemoglobin what was to be gobbled. The brutal death of the magician’s assistant was fresh in the back of their minds, their outcome in case of failure,, poor bunny, poor little bunny… looking on the bright side of things, this was their opportunity to break free from their sidekick labels and actually have their own adventure - even if it did come at the price of a spin-off with a group of number twos taking the lead..
Crossing the street to an internet café, I get hit by a thunderbolt in the form of a fox in pinks kicks navigating a Vespa.. she smiles my way and offers me a peek into my future.. I see room and push myself on. Inviting her for a cappuccino, she takes half the foam with a spoon and folds the rest in, I grind the beans with my molars and suck on the coffee mulch – caffeinated love perks us both up. “I wish you were here” she pauses as the phone crackles - I am enthralled by her pauses, not so much the crackles. I unwrap her like the cds I covet so dearly, eagerly hoping for electric ladyland and getting it. weird and charming she calls me, the perfect foil to her elegance and wit. In competition for coordination, I run through the fields collecting thoughts in a glass jar to light our way home..
I’m led to the dentist chair and told he’ll be a minute or two.. looking around I see the instruments of terror to be inflicted on my chompers.. to calm my nerves I get up and take a swig or 20 of the nitrous oxide in the corner.. hhhrrrmmm.. life is good.. a marsupial hops into the room and tells me that life as a marsupial all depends on if I view myself inside the pouch or outside the pouch.. just then a zebra appears out of thing air, grows fangs and dives straight for the marsupial’s neck. The blood gushes everywhere and starts to freak me out a little.. another 20 swigs, aaahhh much better…
So what is ballsy art? Handing me a cup with some nudey magazines she points to the bathroom and tells me to do my business.. she pulled the blinds and turned on the black lights, revealing her work in progress on the sheet up against the wall.. trying to walk me through her masterpiece, she points out the brush strokes and wants me to see the waterfall.. amazed, shocked, and slightly grossed out, I sat around trying to grasp her madness in an aesthetic light.. spart she calls it.. that’s the last time I spend the night at her place..
A café coretto a la grappa sets me straight.. 28 hours travelling, no sleep and Rem Koolhaas is pouring more grappa in my coffee.. the funny thing about architecture he says while we sip our spiked morning,, is that it’s not funny at all. I couldn’t agree more.. shaking the fatigue out of me, William Gibson shows up and invites himself to my scrambled egg whites.. after breakfast, lets go hit on some cyber samurai dressed high school girls in Harajuku he says.. cyberpunk or cyberperv I still haven’t figured him out.. Rem laughs, and Gibson looks at me weird like he’s hoping to insert wires into my head.. I need another coretto..
Sex with a puffin was interesting until she asked if she could read me some Attar, he’s cool I suppose, but I then decided she was getting a little too spiritual for spirit’s sake. The only place I wanna conference birds is between the sheets. I asked her if she had anything to eat, she complained about not having any time to hit the super, so I ended up snacking on some seeds. She wanted a "sit down" regarding our commitment, I told her that I ain’t no goose. She cried and I left.. probably for the best, my breath always smelt of herring and she always beat me at Mancala. I hate losing at Mancala.
And then there were three: the coat check girl of a gentlemen’s club, a carnival ride operator, and a librarian’s assistant.. it was a task and a half trying to negotiate their way out of the giant mosquito’s nest – but the promise of thirteen pints of blood from a satanic virgin goat in heat was too good to pass up, the Giant Mosquito thought. they had 23 hours and 42 minutes to come good with the plasma or else it was their haemoglobin what was to be gobbled. The brutal death of the magician’s assistant was fresh in the back of their minds, their outcome in case of failure,, poor bunny, poor little bunny… looking on the bright side of things, this was their opportunity to break free from their sidekick labels and actually have their own adventure - even if it did come at the price of a spin-off with a group of number twos taking the lead..
Crossing the street to an internet café, I get hit by a thunderbolt in the form of a fox in pinks kicks navigating a Vespa.. she smiles my way and offers me a peek into my future.. I see room and push myself on. Inviting her for a cappuccino, she takes half the foam with a spoon and folds the rest in, I grind the beans with my molars and suck on the coffee mulch – caffeinated love perks us both up. “I wish you were here” she pauses as the phone crackles - I am enthralled by her pauses, not so much the crackles. I unwrap her like the cds I covet so dearly, eagerly hoping for electric ladyland and getting it. weird and charming she calls me, the perfect foil to her elegance and wit. In competition for coordination, I run through the fields collecting thoughts in a glass jar to light our way home..
I’m led to the dentist chair and told he’ll be a minute or two.. looking around I see the instruments of terror to be inflicted on my chompers.. to calm my nerves I get up and take a swig or 20 of the nitrous oxide in the corner.. hhhrrrmmm.. life is good.. a marsupial hops into the room and tells me that life as a marsupial all depends on if I view myself inside the pouch or outside the pouch.. just then a zebra appears out of thing air, grows fangs and dives straight for the marsupial’s neck. The blood gushes everywhere and starts to freak me out a little.. another 20 swigs, aaahhh much better…
So what is ballsy art? Handing me a cup with some nudey magazines she points to the bathroom and tells me to do my business.. she pulled the blinds and turned on the black lights, revealing her work in progress on the sheet up against the wall.. trying to walk me through her masterpiece, she points out the brush strokes and wants me to see the waterfall.. amazed, shocked, and slightly grossed out, I sat around trying to grasp her madness in an aesthetic light.. spart she calls it.. that’s the last time I spend the night at her place..
A café coretto a la grappa sets me straight.. 28 hours travelling, no sleep and Rem Koolhaas is pouring more grappa in my coffee.. the funny thing about architecture he says while we sip our spiked morning,, is that it’s not funny at all. I couldn’t agree more.. shaking the fatigue out of me, William Gibson shows up and invites himself to my scrambled egg whites.. after breakfast, lets go hit on some cyber samurai dressed high school girls in Harajuku he says.. cyberpunk or cyberperv I still haven’t figured him out.. Rem laughs, and Gibson looks at me weird like he’s hoping to insert wires into my head.. I need another coretto..
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Oh beautiful game I love thee..
It’s been a long wait.. I’m not going to come out and say it was easy ‘cause throughout the past 4 years, a lot has happened.. Bahrain for the first time in its history flirted with making it to the big show, late nights of qualifiers, screaming at the television, even got my mother onboard for the qualifying campaign.. I’d also be a liar if I said that the last world cup was a lot of fun.. there were some great games, yes, but there were too many issues embedded in having the world cup in Asia that just rubbed me the wrong way. I’m sure Fifa will be more prepared the next time they decide to have the world cup in Asia..
Remember the 2002 world cup? The fact that the actual timing of the world cup was brought forward to avoid the monsoon season in Japan or Korea, probably not giving the players enough time to rest. The English and Spanish leagues did not finish in time as everyone else and it was obvious that the players in those two leagues were not fully rested (Fifa this year put in a new rule that all leagues needed to end on some specific day in May – the 19th if my memory serves me right, but it has been known to evade me). Holland didn’t make it to the world cup.. the teams that we all expected to progress were all knocked out – Everyone predicted Argentina France for the final, and they both went home after the group stages.. The timing of the games were totally fucked (I was in Boston at the time, the latest game started at 10 AM) do you know what it’s like to watch the world cup final before you normally fix yourself a cup of coffee in the morning?? Having a pint and watching the game that early in the morning really did make you wonder about your personal struggle with alcoholism. The horrible refereeing – Byron Moreno: I still hate you.. No disrespect to the South Korean football team (cause they played some great football, and look even deadlier this tournament) but a lot of calls went their way, making you feel like since this was the first time Asia was hosting the World Cup, Fifa wanted to give an unnecessary nudge to one of the teams there (ie: the hosts).. the horrible sportsmanship, Rivaldo getting the ball in the knee and then him dropping to the floor clutching his face against Turkey,, What was that all about? Ronaldo with that stupid half moon haircut – a horrible attempt at something anime.. I was just left a little deflated… I waited 4 years for the 2002 world cup, only to be disappointed.. so for all intensive purposes I’ve been waiting since France 98 for a good world cup..
It’s taken me 8 years, and now I’m only 1 day away.. I’m 24 hours away from cheering and jeering.. giving up my life for one full month to focus on football. I’m no silly purist that supports one team and only one team.. My support this world cup goes as follows: Italy, Holland, Ivory Coast, & England… Although I will be paying attention to all the teams (Spain, France, Japan, Brazil [how can you not?], etc.. ) I am going to stick to my four.. why? Well there are 32 teams, why focus on one, four is a better number.. pick 4 teams and improve the odds of one of your teams making it to the final.. I’m going to side with history and statistics that a South American team has never won a world cup in Europe, hence three of my times being European. I’m also going with the fact that the world has continually bounced between a European and South American team (except for two instances where italy won it twice in ’34 and ’38, and Brazil did in ’58 and ’62), since Brazil won it last, I’ve got some coin on a European team doing it. Plus if anyone has a psychological advantage at winning the world cup in Germany, it’s the English – and to bring it all round, I am my father’s son and the ol’man does have a soft spot for England. Italy, well cause since the world cup in 1990, I’ve been a die hard fan, disappointment at the world cup 94, euro 2000 final, this is Totti’s last chance to shine, and shine he will.. luca toni’s the dark goal scoring horse, and I have a feeling Daniel Bonera will stamp his foot on the international scene as the next pillar in the Italian back line.. Holland, well come on, I’ve always loved the Dutch – Bergkamp is a personal hero, I attribute him as one of the main catalysts to the popularity of English football right now.. Bergie’s goal in 98 against Argentina brought me and the rest of the world to our knees. watch van persie : BRILLIANT ORANJE!! Ivory Coast because you need to have an African team to support, and they look so good this year: Aruna Dindane, Kolo and Yaya Toure, Drog’s yer uncle, Eboue, etc,, yeah baby.. allez les Elephants!!
So here’s to: getting together with friends, getting re-addicted to sunflower seeds, eating bbqed food, being boisterous, enjoying a freshly tapped keg, saying insulting things to the opposing team fans (yeah you heard me TRINIDAD & TOBAGO.. ok sorry, you did win it fair and square.. but then again shut the hell up, you’re at the world cup with that silly twat Dwight Yorke, I should be allowed to harbour a little animosity), raising your hands and going apeshit, discussing tactics, drinking, conspiracy theories, snack runs, promising talent, sublime passing and beautiful goals..
Have a great world cup people, and may your bet carry you through, unless you’re the Chef, who’s actually plonking down cash on Brazil Poland for the final… tisk tisk tisk
FORZA AZZURRI!!
Remember the 2002 world cup? The fact that the actual timing of the world cup was brought forward to avoid the monsoon season in Japan or Korea, probably not giving the players enough time to rest. The English and Spanish leagues did not finish in time as everyone else and it was obvious that the players in those two leagues were not fully rested (Fifa this year put in a new rule that all leagues needed to end on some specific day in May – the 19th if my memory serves me right, but it has been known to evade me). Holland didn’t make it to the world cup.. the teams that we all expected to progress were all knocked out – Everyone predicted Argentina France for the final, and they both went home after the group stages.. The timing of the games were totally fucked (I was in Boston at the time, the latest game started at 10 AM) do you know what it’s like to watch the world cup final before you normally fix yourself a cup of coffee in the morning?? Having a pint and watching the game that early in the morning really did make you wonder about your personal struggle with alcoholism. The horrible refereeing – Byron Moreno: I still hate you.. No disrespect to the South Korean football team (cause they played some great football, and look even deadlier this tournament) but a lot of calls went their way, making you feel like since this was the first time Asia was hosting the World Cup, Fifa wanted to give an unnecessary nudge to one of the teams there (ie: the hosts).. the horrible sportsmanship, Rivaldo getting the ball in the knee and then him dropping to the floor clutching his face against Turkey,, What was that all about? Ronaldo with that stupid half moon haircut – a horrible attempt at something anime.. I was just left a little deflated… I waited 4 years for the 2002 world cup, only to be disappointed.. so for all intensive purposes I’ve been waiting since France 98 for a good world cup..
It’s taken me 8 years, and now I’m only 1 day away.. I’m 24 hours away from cheering and jeering.. giving up my life for one full month to focus on football. I’m no silly purist that supports one team and only one team.. My support this world cup goes as follows: Italy, Holland, Ivory Coast, & England… Although I will be paying attention to all the teams (Spain, France, Japan, Brazil [how can you not?], etc.. ) I am going to stick to my four.. why? Well there are 32 teams, why focus on one, four is a better number.. pick 4 teams and improve the odds of one of your teams making it to the final.. I’m going to side with history and statistics that a South American team has never won a world cup in Europe, hence three of my times being European. I’m also going with the fact that the world has continually bounced between a European and South American team (except for two instances where italy won it twice in ’34 and ’38, and Brazil did in ’58 and ’62), since Brazil won it last, I’ve got some coin on a European team doing it. Plus if anyone has a psychological advantage at winning the world cup in Germany, it’s the English – and to bring it all round, I am my father’s son and the ol’man does have a soft spot for England. Italy, well cause since the world cup in 1990, I’ve been a die hard fan, disappointment at the world cup 94, euro 2000 final, this is Totti’s last chance to shine, and shine he will.. luca toni’s the dark goal scoring horse, and I have a feeling Daniel Bonera will stamp his foot on the international scene as the next pillar in the Italian back line.. Holland, well come on, I’ve always loved the Dutch – Bergkamp is a personal hero, I attribute him as one of the main catalysts to the popularity of English football right now.. Bergie’s goal in 98 against Argentina brought me and the rest of the world to our knees. watch van persie : BRILLIANT ORANJE!! Ivory Coast because you need to have an African team to support, and they look so good this year: Aruna Dindane, Kolo and Yaya Toure, Drog’s yer uncle, Eboue, etc,, yeah baby.. allez les Elephants!!
So here’s to: getting together with friends, getting re-addicted to sunflower seeds, eating bbqed food, being boisterous, enjoying a freshly tapped keg, saying insulting things to the opposing team fans (yeah you heard me TRINIDAD & TOBAGO.. ok sorry, you did win it fair and square.. but then again shut the hell up, you’re at the world cup with that silly twat Dwight Yorke, I should be allowed to harbour a little animosity), raising your hands and going apeshit, discussing tactics, drinking, conspiracy theories, snack runs, promising talent, sublime passing and beautiful goals..
Have a great world cup people, and may your bet carry you through, unless you’re the Chef, who’s actually plonking down cash on Brazil Poland for the final… tisk tisk tisk
FORZA AZZURRI!!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Uploading Downloads
Remember when downloading used to be fun and free? Everyone had napster, the original napster.. people were downloading tunes, and we all felt we were a apart of an MP3 community, sticking it to the record industry - revolucionarios! I used spend hours in front of the computer at my place, with whomever just trying to remember music and downloading it.. it was from these insane screen sessions that we remembered too shy by kajagoogoo, midlife crisis by faith no more, absolutely kelly street by frente, all sorts of great random tunes. We found secret ultrahush white labels, we found dubbed up dubs of rubadubdub, we found fun for our eardrums. La musica was, fresh and happy, but like guns n roses play it “nothing lasts forever” - Those damn bastards from Metallica decided that they wanted to make money off their music that was being transferred, and decided to take whomever they could to court. In the midst of this whole hell-storm of litigation, napster started getting trickier, people were misspelling the information on the tracks you could download to avoid getting caught.. stuff was becoming harder to find, life became crappy…
And then something brilliant happened.. someone invented another peer to peer file sharing software that found a loophole in the legality of it all: being registered outside the US and sometimes giving you popups and stuff like that.. Soon everyone had migrated from Napster to morpheus until that got old, then they switched to Aries until that got old, and then edonkey and then kazaa then kazaa lite then limewire, and so on and so forth.. people’s conversations at the time sounded a little something like this, “hey so what do you use to download?” “oh I use bumfloss beta 2.0” “is that any good?” “aww hell yeah dude, it’s amazing, you get music, videos, games, pictures, you can download anything even viruses..” It was also during this time that people stopped just downloading music, and got involved in downloading videos.. At the time, downloading videos had one clearly defined purpose: pornography, nothing else.. The internet video porn traffic boomed, if you could’ve traded that index, think of the returns.. Milfhunter and the bangbus crew became world famous, overnight. Now you could finally complete your rocco siffredi collection with Rocco Mauls Mozambique. Gigabytes and gigabytes of videos were bouncing around peoples bandwidth ranging from sexy shit, to sick shit, to weird shit, to funny shit, to classic shit, and illegal in some states shit… life was good for all men and some women, but mainly men…
It didn’t take long for Steve “I gotta get me some of dat” Jobs to announce his solution to illegal downloading: Itunes hits computers globally, his ipods take over peoples ears, and all of a sudden the industry is making money off downloaded music. Obscure musicians even turn to leaking their music on the internet in the hope of becoming famous, and many have.. a dollar a tune was worth it for many and it was legal.. I don’t really know how many songs have been downloaded over itunes, I remember reading some large number but really couldn’t care less – some impressively huge number though.. But you have to give Jobs credit.. he made money off making music downloads legal and he made you buy his device to listen to your newly purchased music, now that’s pure “giving them what they didn’t know they wanted but desperately needed” genius...
So what’s next? Lets get on the whole video downloading bandwagon!! and that’s just what the world did.. Supercool large file sharing applications like BitTorrent were born and now you could actually download full length movies or episodes of your favorite TV show.. the newest episode of Lost airs tonight, tomorrow morning people are downloading it and then uploading it into their personal video players to watch on the train ride to work, during their lunch break, taking it over on their hard disks to watch it with friends, making copies for people, burning it on a dvd to watch it on their tv.. Technically I’m sure this is illegal, but this new type of heavy peer to peer fiending is taking over the internet and you have to acknowledge their growing numbers.. People are up to date on what’s happening in the Sopranos, Lost, 24, the Unit, the Shield, Home Garden Tv, etc.. Itunes realized that they can make money off this too and have now allowed people to legally purchase episodes, touché stevie, touché..
I know a couple of these bandwidth bandits, I was hanging out with one of them last night, and his addiction to downloading these tv shows was somewhat frightening.. he couldn’t wait to rewatch the episode of this show because the new one was coming out on this day and then he has this download and the season finale of that and then there’s the other new show that he’s heard so much about.. I’ve seen a lot of addictions in my relatively short life, but this one, was pretty scary..
Another internet impresario worthy of mention is the high priest of the temple.. a couple of months ago this guy had 2 terabytes of personal storage space (that’s over 2 thousand gigabytes – roughly 33 and a third 60 gigabyte ipods) filled with everything and anything your little mind desires: documentaries, tv shows, serial dramas, animes, movies, videogames, pictures, files, stories, you name it, really, just name it. His storage space has probably now doubled in size, (cue in celestial gregorian chanting)..
So where does this leave me? behind in everything.. I’ll still be reminiscing about dancing around to “Too.. shy shy, hush hush, eye to eye” while people are downloading virtual girlfriends… the internet is taking so many twists and turns and if you just pause to see how far we’ve come in the last 2,5,10 years years, you’d be flabbergasted (I like the sound of that fla-bber-gas-ted..)
And then something brilliant happened.. someone invented another peer to peer file sharing software that found a loophole in the legality of it all: being registered outside the US and sometimes giving you popups and stuff like that.. Soon everyone had migrated from Napster to morpheus until that got old, then they switched to Aries until that got old, and then edonkey and then kazaa then kazaa lite then limewire, and so on and so forth.. people’s conversations at the time sounded a little something like this, “hey so what do you use to download?” “oh I use bumfloss beta 2.0” “is that any good?” “aww hell yeah dude, it’s amazing, you get music, videos, games, pictures, you can download anything even viruses..” It was also during this time that people stopped just downloading music, and got involved in downloading videos.. At the time, downloading videos had one clearly defined purpose: pornography, nothing else.. The internet video porn traffic boomed, if you could’ve traded that index, think of the returns.. Milfhunter and the bangbus crew became world famous, overnight. Now you could finally complete your rocco siffredi collection with Rocco Mauls Mozambique. Gigabytes and gigabytes of videos were bouncing around peoples bandwidth ranging from sexy shit, to sick shit, to weird shit, to funny shit, to classic shit, and illegal in some states shit… life was good for all men and some women, but mainly men…
It didn’t take long for Steve “I gotta get me some of dat” Jobs to announce his solution to illegal downloading: Itunes hits computers globally, his ipods take over peoples ears, and all of a sudden the industry is making money off downloaded music. Obscure musicians even turn to leaking their music on the internet in the hope of becoming famous, and many have.. a dollar a tune was worth it for many and it was legal.. I don’t really know how many songs have been downloaded over itunes, I remember reading some large number but really couldn’t care less – some impressively huge number though.. But you have to give Jobs credit.. he made money off making music downloads legal and he made you buy his device to listen to your newly purchased music, now that’s pure “giving them what they didn’t know they wanted but desperately needed” genius...
So what’s next? Lets get on the whole video downloading bandwagon!! and that’s just what the world did.. Supercool large file sharing applications like BitTorrent were born and now you could actually download full length movies or episodes of your favorite TV show.. the newest episode of Lost airs tonight, tomorrow morning people are downloading it and then uploading it into their personal video players to watch on the train ride to work, during their lunch break, taking it over on their hard disks to watch it with friends, making copies for people, burning it on a dvd to watch it on their tv.. Technically I’m sure this is illegal, but this new type of heavy peer to peer fiending is taking over the internet and you have to acknowledge their growing numbers.. People are up to date on what’s happening in the Sopranos, Lost, 24, the Unit, the Shield, Home Garden Tv, etc.. Itunes realized that they can make money off this too and have now allowed people to legally purchase episodes, touché stevie, touché..
I know a couple of these bandwidth bandits, I was hanging out with one of them last night, and his addiction to downloading these tv shows was somewhat frightening.. he couldn’t wait to rewatch the episode of this show because the new one was coming out on this day and then he has this download and the season finale of that and then there’s the other new show that he’s heard so much about.. I’ve seen a lot of addictions in my relatively short life, but this one, was pretty scary..
Another internet impresario worthy of mention is the high priest of the temple.. a couple of months ago this guy had 2 terabytes of personal storage space (that’s over 2 thousand gigabytes – roughly 33 and a third 60 gigabyte ipods) filled with everything and anything your little mind desires: documentaries, tv shows, serial dramas, animes, movies, videogames, pictures, files, stories, you name it, really, just name it. His storage space has probably now doubled in size, (cue in celestial gregorian chanting)..
So where does this leave me? behind in everything.. I’ll still be reminiscing about dancing around to “Too.. shy shy, hush hush, eye to eye” while people are downloading virtual girlfriends… the internet is taking so many twists and turns and if you just pause to see how far we’ve come in the last 2,5,10 years years, you’d be flabbergasted (I like the sound of that fla-bber-gas-ted..)
Thursday, May 18, 2006
of the Week
Outcome of the Week
The Arsenal lost the champions league final.. in a bout of bad refereeing the gunners managed to hold onto their lead for the first 75 minutes; but being a man down and playing against Barcelona in such a high intensity game, we could not hold that crazy Swede Henrik Larsson.. The lads played their hearts out and my phone never stopped ringing last night with acknowledgements of awe about our spirit.. I am slightly bitter, but this will pass (would’ve liked to come to the office with a reason for bags under my eyes). Some people might rejoice in the fact that my team lost, to you people: up yours (you know who you are), actually I’m pretty fine, if my favorite team wasn’t going to win the Champions League final, my second favorite team winning it is the next best thing. For all you distraught Arsenal fans: our squad was primarily made up of under 25 year olds and we went to the final, we played our hearts out and we’ve made a boatload of money. They called this our transition year, our youngsters took us to the final and we’re gonna play in the tournament next year again, I’ll accept that. Barsa: Although I’m still not convinced of Frank as a coach, it’s about time this team stood up and accepted the title of the best in Europe. (Deco’s a champion, everywhere he goes, he wins it all & kudos to Ludovic Guily: he deserved that medal more than anyone else – just cause he never had his chance against porto two years ago). I upheld my end of the celebrations and lamentations: Breakfast has been served, everyone ate, I am the benevolent football fanatic.
Official announcement of the Week
This morning was the official start of summer for me.. I could feel it coming: the heat, the shorts, the humidity.. but today was the official mark of the season in my book because I loaded the car with some classic summer tunes.. listening to 10cc, Wham, Miami Sound Machine, B-52s, some classic Santana, and so much more (I know, incredibly cheesy, but the thing is you cannot beat rhythm is gonna get you…) I don't understand it, but i associate summer music with Miami in the 1980s a la anthony montana. The short sleeve summer shirts are coming out, the slippers and flip flops are out, the swimming trunks, towel, t-shirt and goggles are in the car.. anyone up for the beach on Saturday? I don’t like Cricket!!! Ohno.. I LOVE IT!!
Musical discovery of the Week
I discovered something new the other day and am interested to find out more.. I heard about Juma Sultan, a famous jazz Percussionist who’s played with the greatest of the greatest. He was also a member of the short lived, Gypsy Suns and Rainbows, Jimi Hendrix’s band.. Their biggest concert was at Woodstock in 1969 (yes, the Woodstock). The only reason I’m so surprised and interested, is that Juma, is such a Khaleeji (Arabian Gulf) mainly Bahraini or Kuwaiti name.. Juma moved to the states in 1965 (doesn’t say from where), and he played the congas, bongos, piano, saxophone, baritone saxaphone, and a few others.. That is just so unbelievably awesome.. Jimi Hendrix, the greatest of all time, had a guy named Juma banging on some bongos for him.. I don’t know but this guy sounds like he could’ve been from this part of the world. I’ve already met Mirza Al Sharif (famous Bahraini Percussionist who played with Santana), now I’m curious to find out about Juma.. if you’ve got info, pass it on.. Apparently Juma was the guy that introduced Jimi to Buddy Miles and Miles Davis.. now that’s pretty cool.. “milo, meet jimi, jimi milo. solid.“
Random discovery of the Week
I don’t like mushrooms on my cheeseburgers.. I like mushrooms on my pizza, in my pasta, in my dishes, even raw in my salad.. but mushrooms on my burger never work out right for me.. I can do mushrooms in my steak and cheese, but not in my burger.. I think the problem is that when they pile on the sautéed mushrooms, they never properly get dispersed on your burger, leaving you with mushroom bulges under the bun (that just sounded funny rereading it).. Grilled onions on my burger, now that’s a completely different story.. Completely different story..
Khhotness of the Week
Chai Karak drinkin’, vice pink dress wearin’, multi-national cell phone luggin’, no chicken eatin’ babes.. yeah…
The Arsenal lost the champions league final.. in a bout of bad refereeing the gunners managed to hold onto their lead for the first 75 minutes; but being a man down and playing against Barcelona in such a high intensity game, we could not hold that crazy Swede Henrik Larsson.. The lads played their hearts out and my phone never stopped ringing last night with acknowledgements of awe about our spirit.. I am slightly bitter, but this will pass (would’ve liked to come to the office with a reason for bags under my eyes). Some people might rejoice in the fact that my team lost, to you people: up yours (you know who you are), actually I’m pretty fine, if my favorite team wasn’t going to win the Champions League final, my second favorite team winning it is the next best thing. For all you distraught Arsenal fans: our squad was primarily made up of under 25 year olds and we went to the final, we played our hearts out and we’ve made a boatload of money. They called this our transition year, our youngsters took us to the final and we’re gonna play in the tournament next year again, I’ll accept that. Barsa: Although I’m still not convinced of Frank as a coach, it’s about time this team stood up and accepted the title of the best in Europe. (Deco’s a champion, everywhere he goes, he wins it all & kudos to Ludovic Guily: he deserved that medal more than anyone else – just cause he never had his chance against porto two years ago). I upheld my end of the celebrations and lamentations: Breakfast has been served, everyone ate, I am the benevolent football fanatic.
Official announcement of the Week
This morning was the official start of summer for me.. I could feel it coming: the heat, the shorts, the humidity.. but today was the official mark of the season in my book because I loaded the car with some classic summer tunes.. listening to 10cc, Wham, Miami Sound Machine, B-52s, some classic Santana, and so much more (I know, incredibly cheesy, but the thing is you cannot beat rhythm is gonna get you…) I don't understand it, but i associate summer music with Miami in the 1980s a la anthony montana. The short sleeve summer shirts are coming out, the slippers and flip flops are out, the swimming trunks, towel, t-shirt and goggles are in the car.. anyone up for the beach on Saturday? I don’t like Cricket!!! Ohno.. I LOVE IT!!
Musical discovery of the Week
I discovered something new the other day and am interested to find out more.. I heard about Juma Sultan, a famous jazz Percussionist who’s played with the greatest of the greatest. He was also a member of the short lived, Gypsy Suns and Rainbows, Jimi Hendrix’s band.. Their biggest concert was at Woodstock in 1969 (yes, the Woodstock). The only reason I’m so surprised and interested, is that Juma, is such a Khaleeji (Arabian Gulf) mainly Bahraini or Kuwaiti name.. Juma moved to the states in 1965 (doesn’t say from where), and he played the congas, bongos, piano, saxophone, baritone saxaphone, and a few others.. That is just so unbelievably awesome.. Jimi Hendrix, the greatest of all time, had a guy named Juma banging on some bongos for him.. I don’t know but this guy sounds like he could’ve been from this part of the world. I’ve already met Mirza Al Sharif (famous Bahraini Percussionist who played with Santana), now I’m curious to find out about Juma.. if you’ve got info, pass it on.. Apparently Juma was the guy that introduced Jimi to Buddy Miles and Miles Davis.. now that’s pretty cool.. “milo, meet jimi, jimi milo. solid.“
Random discovery of the Week
I don’t like mushrooms on my cheeseburgers.. I like mushrooms on my pizza, in my pasta, in my dishes, even raw in my salad.. but mushrooms on my burger never work out right for me.. I can do mushrooms in my steak and cheese, but not in my burger.. I think the problem is that when they pile on the sautéed mushrooms, they never properly get dispersed on your burger, leaving you with mushroom bulges under the bun (that just sounded funny rereading it).. Grilled onions on my burger, now that’s a completely different story.. Completely different story..
Khhotness of the Week
Chai Karak drinkin’, vice pink dress wearin’, multi-national cell phone luggin’, no chicken eatin’ babes.. yeah…
Monday, May 15, 2006
Paris: a city, a babe, a dead trojan, & champions league glory
Sometime in the fall of 2004 I asked myself a question.. What if Arsenal (favorite team in the whole wide world) played Barcelona (2nd favorite team in the whole wide world). Who would I cheer for? Would I be sad? How would I deal with the victory? It’s not a decision most people really think about in the course of their life.. I mean they are two footballing juggernauts in their own respective countries, what were the chances of them meeting up in a European Cup Final (not impossible, but I hadn’t experienced it in my lifetime). On May 17th, 2006, in Paris, one night only, my two favorite football teams in the world will square away against each other in the most prestigious yearly football tournament on the planet.. I started to think long and hard about whom I’d support.
a little london team history
I started my love affair with arsenal at the youthful age of 7. It was Christmas time and we were at a family friend’s house for lunch, I pulled a cracker and won an Arsenal badge.. the cannon on the crest excited my fascination with all things army related.. Since it was Liverpool’s reign, I was naturally watching Ian Rush score his goals – so my Arsenal support was subdued for a couple of years. That was until the end of the football season 1989, this time 17 years ago (give or take a couple of weeks). English football was always recapped on Monday nights on Bahrain TV, and 1989 was the year the Arsenal beat Liverpool at Anfield by two extra goals (go on Alan Smith!!) on the last day of the season to win the league from right under Liverpool’s noses. It was from then on, that I became a Gunner. Watching a spectacular victory like that, the intensity of the game, the pure magic that poured into those 90 minutes, oh and a Christmas cracker with a badge and a cannon on it – how could I not be a fan.. I still have the badge.. After that, my fascination with football blossomed and took on different twists and turns. I tasted victory and I had my fair share of defeat. The Gunners were a medium sized London team with a lot of history, and I was a part of that history watching Ian Wright break the club’s goal scoring record, Thierry Henry then breaking Wrighty’s record, Limpar breaking off from the right with the ball, the Gamble on Overmars and the payback, the counter attacks, Paddy and Manu pulling the strings. Gilles Grimandi with a wild punch at Deigo Simeone. Pires winning me over with the equalizing goal against tottenham, and the equalizing away goal against Lazio. The Absolute Genius that is Dennis Nicolaas Bergkamp (the classiest of classy footballers). The famous back line, with Bouldie’s composed defending, Tony Adams leadership on the pitch, Lee Dixon for making the right back his postion.. David Platt, one of my favorite midfielders ever. When we stole Sol Campbell from Spurs for free. Secretly loving/hating Safe Hands Seaman. I can go on and on.. I’ve left things out I’m sure.. how about the ghosts of players that never had their chance: The alex mannigers, paolo vernazzas, nelson vivas, Christopher wrehs, remi gardes, graham barrets, and junichi inamotos.. you are not forgotten my friends.. (I came so close to buying a vernazza jersey once, just to cheer the lad on, they then sold him to Watford or something like that).. The real change in my love for Arsenal was when they purchased Bergkamp from Inter. Nothing sounded better to my ears that hearing the crowds chant “We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp, We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp!!” (I can still hear you singing, Andy).. This season’s performance in the league has been disappointing at times, but we did make it to the champions league next season, and we have made it to the Champions league Final this season.. We’re building a team for the future, and with most of our squad under 25, we are looking very good for the coming seasons.. very very good.
hope in Elefant Blau
Then there’s Barcelona, the Catalan team that stole my heart in the early 90s with Cruyff’s dream team.. My loving relationship with Barcelona didn’t just happen because of a Catalan variant of Dutch Total Football. The Catalan are a proud people, and I fell in love with that pride,, at times making me feel like it was my pride too. Maybe cause Catalunya carried Spain on its shoulders economically, maybe because of the fact that Franco loved Madrid and he often showed it by bending the rules in their favor, or how about the only place the Catalan could speak their language freely was in their stadium. How about the fact that FC Barcelona, in its 100 plus year history have never had a sponsor (something that will eventually change) on their Jersey.. why? Because the fans are not just fans, the Nou Camp is a symbol of the Catalunya and its people, you cannot tarnish the Azulgrana with a corporate sponsor.. That all aside, you cannot tell me you cannot fall in love with a team that has boasted players such as: Koeman, Guardiola, Laudrup, Stoichkov, Romario, Diego Armando Maradona, Ronaldo, Johan Cruyff, Lineker, Haji, Zubizaretta, Luis Enrique, Nadal, Sergi, Rivaldo, Cocu, and I’m not even getting into the current squad: RONNIE! I fell in love with their history, got angered at the treatment over the whole Alfredo Di Stefano Fiasco (yeah we know the truth Madrid). I watched them go from the great ol days of Nunez’s presidency to the what the hell is going on days of Gaspart and now the weary stability of Laporta. I felt the pain inside me grow as Barcelona were mismanaged, they were spending money buying players but just couldn’t do it.. They were caving into demands from players such as Patrick Kluivert, making him the highest paid player. Then came the shocking pain associated with watching them neglect Luis Figo and watching him go to Madrid.. all the power to Figo, I still love him, but the pain was a lot to bear.. or how about the incredible elation of watching Rivaldo with that scissor kick goal the last day of the season to squeeze Barsa past Valencia into the Champions league for the following season.. Barcelona quickly filled my heart with love.. Watching them win this season making it back to back championships brings tears to my eyes.. for my college years I had to endure my Madrid friends rubbing their victories in my face.. Watching Zidane score that amazing and I mean amazing goal for Real Madrid while Barsa just looked lost in la liga.. Barcelona is finally back to it’s winning days and I cannot be happier.
And now my predicament.. who to support? I know Arsenal are the underdogs, but a Champions league victory would be an incredible feat to celebrate.. Plus, memories of the 2000 UEFA cup final against Galatasaray have resurfaced and I am in pain.. A victory would quell these nightmares relived.. Barcelona have won their second league title in a row, this is evidence of their dominance of Spanish football right now.. However; there is that small part of me inside that wants to call them Madrillenos and laugh at their losses and boast Barsa’s victories.. it’s a tough decision… but I have decided to support the Arsenal on this one.. Arsenal are the underdogs, if anyone needs this championship it’s them.. I’d love to see Theirry lift the cup in Paris in front of his home crowd and stamp his brilliance on the European game.. That said, for 90 minutes I will support Arsenal, I will cheer them on, I will yell, shout, scream, laugh, maniacally wave my hands in the air, dance, and weep (hopefully not).. once the game is over, I only see it as a win win situation for me..
I don't even want to get into the hype cause i can write another three posts about that alone..
Oh and since it’s my two favorite teams,,, breakfast on Thursday May 18th is on me… you just need to show up to the 8th floor for some tasty tidbits. I know my coworkers are pleased about that.
I’ve now solved who I’m going to support, now I need to decide where I’m going to watch the game.. GOONMYSON!!
COME ON ARSENAL!!!!
a little london team history
I started my love affair with arsenal at the youthful age of 7. It was Christmas time and we were at a family friend’s house for lunch, I pulled a cracker and won an Arsenal badge.. the cannon on the crest excited my fascination with all things army related.. Since it was Liverpool’s reign, I was naturally watching Ian Rush score his goals – so my Arsenal support was subdued for a couple of years. That was until the end of the football season 1989, this time 17 years ago (give or take a couple of weeks). English football was always recapped on Monday nights on Bahrain TV, and 1989 was the year the Arsenal beat Liverpool at Anfield by two extra goals (go on Alan Smith!!) on the last day of the season to win the league from right under Liverpool’s noses. It was from then on, that I became a Gunner. Watching a spectacular victory like that, the intensity of the game, the pure magic that poured into those 90 minutes, oh and a Christmas cracker with a badge and a cannon on it – how could I not be a fan.. I still have the badge.. After that, my fascination with football blossomed and took on different twists and turns. I tasted victory and I had my fair share of defeat. The Gunners were a medium sized London team with a lot of history, and I was a part of that history watching Ian Wright break the club’s goal scoring record, Thierry Henry then breaking Wrighty’s record, Limpar breaking off from the right with the ball, the Gamble on Overmars and the payback, the counter attacks, Paddy and Manu pulling the strings. Gilles Grimandi with a wild punch at Deigo Simeone. Pires winning me over with the equalizing goal against tottenham, and the equalizing away goal against Lazio. The Absolute Genius that is Dennis Nicolaas Bergkamp (the classiest of classy footballers). The famous back line, with Bouldie’s composed defending, Tony Adams leadership on the pitch, Lee Dixon for making the right back his postion.. David Platt, one of my favorite midfielders ever. When we stole Sol Campbell from Spurs for free. Secretly loving/hating Safe Hands Seaman. I can go on and on.. I’ve left things out I’m sure.. how about the ghosts of players that never had their chance: The alex mannigers, paolo vernazzas, nelson vivas, Christopher wrehs, remi gardes, graham barrets, and junichi inamotos.. you are not forgotten my friends.. (I came so close to buying a vernazza jersey once, just to cheer the lad on, they then sold him to Watford or something like that).. The real change in my love for Arsenal was when they purchased Bergkamp from Inter. Nothing sounded better to my ears that hearing the crowds chant “We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp, We’ve got Dennis Bergkamp!!” (I can still hear you singing, Andy).. This season’s performance in the league has been disappointing at times, but we did make it to the champions league next season, and we have made it to the Champions league Final this season.. We’re building a team for the future, and with most of our squad under 25, we are looking very good for the coming seasons.. very very good.
hope in Elefant Blau
Then there’s Barcelona, the Catalan team that stole my heart in the early 90s with Cruyff’s dream team.. My loving relationship with Barcelona didn’t just happen because of a Catalan variant of Dutch Total Football. The Catalan are a proud people, and I fell in love with that pride,, at times making me feel like it was my pride too. Maybe cause Catalunya carried Spain on its shoulders economically, maybe because of the fact that Franco loved Madrid and he often showed it by bending the rules in their favor, or how about the only place the Catalan could speak their language freely was in their stadium. How about the fact that FC Barcelona, in its 100 plus year history have never had a sponsor (something that will eventually change) on their Jersey.. why? Because the fans are not just fans, the Nou Camp is a symbol of the Catalunya and its people, you cannot tarnish the Azulgrana with a corporate sponsor.. That all aside, you cannot tell me you cannot fall in love with a team that has boasted players such as: Koeman, Guardiola, Laudrup, Stoichkov, Romario, Diego Armando Maradona, Ronaldo, Johan Cruyff, Lineker, Haji, Zubizaretta, Luis Enrique, Nadal, Sergi, Rivaldo, Cocu, and I’m not even getting into the current squad: RONNIE! I fell in love with their history, got angered at the treatment over the whole Alfredo Di Stefano Fiasco (yeah we know the truth Madrid). I watched them go from the great ol days of Nunez’s presidency to the what the hell is going on days of Gaspart and now the weary stability of Laporta. I felt the pain inside me grow as Barcelona were mismanaged, they were spending money buying players but just couldn’t do it.. They were caving into demands from players such as Patrick Kluivert, making him the highest paid player. Then came the shocking pain associated with watching them neglect Luis Figo and watching him go to Madrid.. all the power to Figo, I still love him, but the pain was a lot to bear.. or how about the incredible elation of watching Rivaldo with that scissor kick goal the last day of the season to squeeze Barsa past Valencia into the Champions league for the following season.. Barcelona quickly filled my heart with love.. Watching them win this season making it back to back championships brings tears to my eyes.. for my college years I had to endure my Madrid friends rubbing their victories in my face.. Watching Zidane score that amazing and I mean amazing goal for Real Madrid while Barsa just looked lost in la liga.. Barcelona is finally back to it’s winning days and I cannot be happier.
And now my predicament.. who to support? I know Arsenal are the underdogs, but a Champions league victory would be an incredible feat to celebrate.. Plus, memories of the 2000 UEFA cup final against Galatasaray have resurfaced and I am in pain.. A victory would quell these nightmares relived.. Barcelona have won their second league title in a row, this is evidence of their dominance of Spanish football right now.. However; there is that small part of me inside that wants to call them Madrillenos and laugh at their losses and boast Barsa’s victories.. it’s a tough decision… but I have decided to support the Arsenal on this one.. Arsenal are the underdogs, if anyone needs this championship it’s them.. I’d love to see Theirry lift the cup in Paris in front of his home crowd and stamp his brilliance on the European game.. That said, for 90 minutes I will support Arsenal, I will cheer them on, I will yell, shout, scream, laugh, maniacally wave my hands in the air, dance, and weep (hopefully not).. once the game is over, I only see it as a win win situation for me..
I don't even want to get into the hype cause i can write another three posts about that alone..
Oh and since it’s my two favorite teams,,, breakfast on Thursday May 18th is on me… you just need to show up to the 8th floor for some tasty tidbits. I know my coworkers are pleased about that.
I’ve now solved who I’m going to support, now I need to decide where I’m going to watch the game.. GOONMYSON!!
COME ON ARSENAL!!!!
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
the cameo of cameos
free crack and everyone gets laid
I let spontaneity be my guide and that’s the reason for my demise. I am under house arrest (a better word than grounded). The case: feeding my need for speed. Tonight bahraini guy’s invitation to appear as his guest is the only way to nourish my madness.
10 pm. kissed my mother good night and locked myself in my room, immersed in ablution contemplating every scheme in the book to break out of the house. Took a good look down from the balcony, testing the fall, threw down my brother’s stupid cat to see how she lands. Boredom postponed, no broken bones. Fought the faithful donkey in a hurry and bid him farewell. Tied everything together into a rope, climbed the Azalea bush and jumped over the wall into a furry red cab with Harshit the driver.
Monstrous black line around my eye, question mark drawn on a course cloth. Like wind to my endless story, we head to Al Ain, club 44. Looking out to black dunes, flimsy girls picking dates of nakhl trees looking for a magic gang bang, cowboy ghosts rise from the grave to play, feet tied, chain in hands. Between them and oasis full of love.
Arrived at the door, the kandoora asked me for the code. Grasped my ankles to worship an ironic Japanese number seven. He let me in and complemented me on my lilac beret. Club 44 is a bizarre place. Rappers cum belly dancers cum locals cum model chicks cum drag queens and me. A melting pot melting together underground with Mike Jones on the mic. Walked back to a room called little Vegas to gamble for a new car. Like a winning dog with fantasy ambitions I sipped the venom of an origami viper. Played backgammon with the resident sheikh promising hope on the ticking quartz. Restless and peerless in my farewell posture I said amen to club 44.
Hopped into a limo only to find the prince of Borneo. Asked the driver to head to Umm al Quwain to a dirty club called XXX. Employed a play on words, sharp as a cutting tool. For a period of time talked like a flashing light with special delights that drove him wild. Was he a friend or foe. I’ll never know. Everyone bowed as we entered the club. Our table ready, Krystal on ice, that’s nice. Amplified night lamps, brilliantly colored. Fat girls on stage jiggled their body parts to Tchaikovsky’s ballet suite. The place was cramped with men in suits packing velvet revolvers endlessly vogue. Their instruments of communication.
Zero hour applauded the bell ringer. It was time to put on my archer attire with bows in my quiver. Unchained my excited animal, turbo in my engine, left the club. Ran into a blind mudslinger, in Braille he showed me a fast way home. With ping pong pulse I climbed the wall. Like a rodent on a Ferris wheel, my vision warped, I fell to the floor. Woke up majrooh in a marjooha, my fate I believe was a thief.
So, the moral of the story as once said by Timothy Leary is “turn on, tune in, dropout”.
And thanks to Bahraini for giving me the opportunity to have a little fun with myself and I on a Thursday night.
I let spontaneity be my guide and that’s the reason for my demise. I am under house arrest (a better word than grounded). The case: feeding my need for speed. Tonight bahraini guy’s invitation to appear as his guest is the only way to nourish my madness.
10 pm. kissed my mother good night and locked myself in my room, immersed in ablution contemplating every scheme in the book to break out of the house. Took a good look down from the balcony, testing the fall, threw down my brother’s stupid cat to see how she lands. Boredom postponed, no broken bones. Fought the faithful donkey in a hurry and bid him farewell. Tied everything together into a rope, climbed the Azalea bush and jumped over the wall into a furry red cab with Harshit the driver.
Monstrous black line around my eye, question mark drawn on a course cloth. Like wind to my endless story, we head to Al Ain, club 44. Looking out to black dunes, flimsy girls picking dates of nakhl trees looking for a magic gang bang, cowboy ghosts rise from the grave to play, feet tied, chain in hands. Between them and oasis full of love.
Arrived at the door, the kandoora asked me for the code. Grasped my ankles to worship an ironic Japanese number seven. He let me in and complemented me on my lilac beret. Club 44 is a bizarre place. Rappers cum belly dancers cum locals cum model chicks cum drag queens and me. A melting pot melting together underground with Mike Jones on the mic. Walked back to a room called little Vegas to gamble for a new car. Like a winning dog with fantasy ambitions I sipped the venom of an origami viper. Played backgammon with the resident sheikh promising hope on the ticking quartz. Restless and peerless in my farewell posture I said amen to club 44.
Hopped into a limo only to find the prince of Borneo. Asked the driver to head to Umm al Quwain to a dirty club called XXX. Employed a play on words, sharp as a cutting tool. For a period of time talked like a flashing light with special delights that drove him wild. Was he a friend or foe. I’ll never know. Everyone bowed as we entered the club. Our table ready, Krystal on ice, that’s nice. Amplified night lamps, brilliantly colored. Fat girls on stage jiggled their body parts to Tchaikovsky’s ballet suite. The place was cramped with men in suits packing velvet revolvers endlessly vogue. Their instruments of communication.
Zero hour applauded the bell ringer. It was time to put on my archer attire with bows in my quiver. Unchained my excited animal, turbo in my engine, left the club. Ran into a blind mudslinger, in Braille he showed me a fast way home. With ping pong pulse I climbed the wall. Like a rodent on a Ferris wheel, my vision warped, I fell to the floor. Woke up majrooh in a marjooha, my fate I believe was a thief.
So, the moral of the story as once said by Timothy Leary is “turn on, tune in, dropout”.
And thanks to Bahraini for giving me the opportunity to have a little fun with myself and I on a Thursday night.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
post worthy?
Random thought of the day
What if two identical twins married two identical twins.. rod and tod married ally and sally.. and now both couples had children.. would the kids look exactly the same? I mean is that even a possibility? Would they be couswins? Has this ever happened? I'm sure it has.. Then what would happen with the parents, would the children be able to tell their parents apart? Would the parents be able to spot their own kids? Am I just aimlessly wondering about stupid things? Can someone answer my question?
A battle of epic proportions
While in the shower scrubbing myself up this past weekend, I noticed something in my peripheral vision, something big moving about on the shower curtain rail… I look up to catch sight of a medium sized, nay, it was a giant spider pausing to size me up.. After initially getting my spiderman dream out of the way (getting bit by the spider and getting superhuman powers), I decided it would be best to tackle this issue while there was no soap in my eyes.. once done with my shower, I stepped out to see where the vile beast was, only to find him guarding my exit, hanging around the door with his fangs ready for war.. There we were, me, naked dripping water on the tiles looking for my weapon of choice, and he suspended there waiting to pounce, preparing his venom for the skirmish. And then calling upon the spirit of my ancestors I prepared for battle, I reached for the box of tissue paper and dealt him the whack of all whacks.. Spider juice splattered the door as my enemy fell to the ground, his 8 outstretched legs now squished and his entrails breathing the open air.. in my naked victory, I saw it fitting to celebrate king kong style grunting and beating my chest as my opponent lay motionless on the cold tiles.. opening the door I continued my naked grunting parade into the bedroom to scare off any other giant monstrous creatures considering interrupting my shower.. and then I realized that I had gotten water everywhere and the balcony curtains were drawn..
In honor of all things facial
Laugh the headline off a bit.. All right, back to it – Apparently May is moustache month.. I'm thinking about shaving off the goatee and keeping a handlebar moustache.. or maybe a general lee, maybe a musketeer would be cool… although Saudi 80s businessman is a great look too.. hmm.. just do this, love thy stache.. treat it with care.. and if you haven't groomed it in a while, go and give it a new look.. I hear the musketeer is making a big comeback (I'm just trying to instigate)..
An announcement regarding Pearl Jam
I gave them a chance over and over again, I tried, but I'm gonna go out now and say this: Pearl Jam are overrated... Eddie Vedder, I liked you more when you drank and were a reckless misunderstood rambler. If you love Pearl Jam, let me say this: At one point in my life, I loved Pearl Jam too.. their first 2-3 albums were some of the best tunes that defined my growing up years. Nothing sounded better.. then album after album they started sucking, and when I mean sucking, their music quickly became some of the worst buys I ever made (and I've made some horrible music purchases over the years). I gave them every opportunity to win me over, I bought their cds, I listened to their new releases, but was just continually disappointed hoping for the next cd to be good. and then a couple of months ago, I read with great big hopeful eyes how Eddie Vedder came out to tell everyone the old Pearl Jam were back.. they were back to being angry and that the music on the new album was going to rock again.. and then do you know what happened? I bought the cd and realized that Eddie Vedder was a lying sack of shit. Their music hasn't changed at all, there was nothing radical about their sound.. it was like they were still regurgitating the same crap of the past couple of albums with a twinge of the old Pearl Jam.. you guys may be angry, but lay off the green tea, go hit that bottle of Jack Walker Black (when you know him as long as we have it's jack) and come up with something ballsy.. I will subject myself to another three listens to your cd, if you have not changed my mind then, I will never buy another Pearl Jam CD as long as I live (well unless it's really good and it's confirmed to be really good)..
The final update
Since moving to my new digs at work, my coffee machine was out of commission for the longest time. Last night I stopped off at the super and went on a cube provision restocking frenzy in which I procured some fingerlickin' lavazza for the machine. This morning I decided it was time to get ol'krups back on the wagon, and you know what? she's purring like a kitten. so yes i'm back on the perked up and slightly wired java-train. now all I need to do is learn how to make a good cappuccino –'cause there's nothing finer than fixing a woman a good cappuccino and watching her drink it..
What if two identical twins married two identical twins.. rod and tod married ally and sally.. and now both couples had children.. would the kids look exactly the same? I mean is that even a possibility? Would they be couswins? Has this ever happened? I'm sure it has.. Then what would happen with the parents, would the children be able to tell their parents apart? Would the parents be able to spot their own kids? Am I just aimlessly wondering about stupid things? Can someone answer my question?
A battle of epic proportions
While in the shower scrubbing myself up this past weekend, I noticed something in my peripheral vision, something big moving about on the shower curtain rail… I look up to catch sight of a medium sized, nay, it was a giant spider pausing to size me up.. After initially getting my spiderman dream out of the way (getting bit by the spider and getting superhuman powers), I decided it would be best to tackle this issue while there was no soap in my eyes.. once done with my shower, I stepped out to see where the vile beast was, only to find him guarding my exit, hanging around the door with his fangs ready for war.. There we were, me, naked dripping water on the tiles looking for my weapon of choice, and he suspended there waiting to pounce, preparing his venom for the skirmish. And then calling upon the spirit of my ancestors I prepared for battle, I reached for the box of tissue paper and dealt him the whack of all whacks.. Spider juice splattered the door as my enemy fell to the ground, his 8 outstretched legs now squished and his entrails breathing the open air.. in my naked victory, I saw it fitting to celebrate king kong style grunting and beating my chest as my opponent lay motionless on the cold tiles.. opening the door I continued my naked grunting parade into the bedroom to scare off any other giant monstrous creatures considering interrupting my shower.. and then I realized that I had gotten water everywhere and the balcony curtains were drawn..
In honor of all things facial
Laugh the headline off a bit.. All right, back to it – Apparently May is moustache month.. I'm thinking about shaving off the goatee and keeping a handlebar moustache.. or maybe a general lee, maybe a musketeer would be cool… although Saudi 80s businessman is a great look too.. hmm.. just do this, love thy stache.. treat it with care.. and if you haven't groomed it in a while, go and give it a new look.. I hear the musketeer is making a big comeback (I'm just trying to instigate)..
An announcement regarding Pearl Jam
I gave them a chance over and over again, I tried, but I'm gonna go out now and say this: Pearl Jam are overrated... Eddie Vedder, I liked you more when you drank and were a reckless misunderstood rambler. If you love Pearl Jam, let me say this: At one point in my life, I loved Pearl Jam too.. their first 2-3 albums were some of the best tunes that defined my growing up years. Nothing sounded better.. then album after album they started sucking, and when I mean sucking, their music quickly became some of the worst buys I ever made (and I've made some horrible music purchases over the years). I gave them every opportunity to win me over, I bought their cds, I listened to their new releases, but was just continually disappointed hoping for the next cd to be good. and then a couple of months ago, I read with great big hopeful eyes how Eddie Vedder came out to tell everyone the old Pearl Jam were back.. they were back to being angry and that the music on the new album was going to rock again.. and then do you know what happened? I bought the cd and realized that Eddie Vedder was a lying sack of shit. Their music hasn't changed at all, there was nothing radical about their sound.. it was like they were still regurgitating the same crap of the past couple of albums with a twinge of the old Pearl Jam.. you guys may be angry, but lay off the green tea, go hit that bottle of Jack Walker Black (when you know him as long as we have it's jack) and come up with something ballsy.. I will subject myself to another three listens to your cd, if you have not changed my mind then, I will never buy another Pearl Jam CD as long as I live (well unless it's really good and it's confirmed to be really good)..
The final update
Since moving to my new digs at work, my coffee machine was out of commission for the longest time. Last night I stopped off at the super and went on a cube provision restocking frenzy in which I procured some fingerlickin' lavazza for the machine. This morning I decided it was time to get ol'krups back on the wagon, and you know what? she's purring like a kitten. so yes i'm back on the perked up and slightly wired java-train. now all I need to do is learn how to make a good cappuccino –'cause there's nothing finer than fixing a woman a good cappuccino and watching her drink it..
Thursday, April 27, 2006
reflections through reflecting mirrors
As I sit with the laptop on top my lap... I'm listening to my new shipment of music.. I have to tell you I'm very pleased with the purchase.. yes it was drastic, some people might chalk it up to there being some void in my life that I need compensate for something.. to be completely honest, fuck it, whatever it is.. this music is going to help me flesh out the soundtrack to my life - I might as well live life with some pretty incredible theme music. Any budding Hollywood producers or Ad executives looking for the soundtrack for their next film or campaign, I’m pretty expensive, but so worth it. stuck on an old American Analog Set album from 5 years ago.. Electronically yet instrumentally breezy…
Feeling good about everything well not everything – working like a madman, flogging a keyboard for crimes in another life, that said, I’ve managed to find something really good. Deep inside the living tissue of my body, I found a little bit of goodness that I’ve managed to focus in on and magnify. This magnification has resulted in an encapsulation of overall coolness and levelled stability on the seesaw of life. I don’t know how to elaborate, but I will try: I shoved my hand inside my chest and extracted this tiny little ball of light, then I stretched and pulled at this goodness until it took the form of another human being - a better person to be, a better person to spend the rest of my days with.. This extraction had to come about in so many different ways and forms, experiences, mistakes, laughs, thoughts, feelings and experiments. Laid back, understanding and carrying an incredible amount of good energy, this other me is kickin’ ass..
I’ve had to teach and learn along this way, sometimes with people that didn’t deserve it, and sometimes with people that taught me all about the things that really mattered.. people were trampled, and people were inflated, all of us, but this is a fact of life – switching to wannabe yogi: you cannot recognize sweet if you have not tasted bitter.. I cannot avoid the truth of what has happened, there are times that I wished I reacted differently: good and bad, but I can say that it has been a journey worth living. That’s the thing about journeys, sometimes while you’re in the middle of it all you think it’s going too slow or that the predetermined chronological events you’ve hoped for are not falling into place. But then when you look back at it all, it just kinda all seems to fall into place, the delays, the pains, the quickness of it all just defines the journey, whether it be pure rock n roll straight from the source, or just some recycled pleasant sound that makes us all happy somewhere deep inside. I’m not going to come out and say that the other good new me has completely taken over, but lets just say we’re holding hands throughout it all, and for right now, that’s good enough for me. One of the two halves will eventually have to devour the other to become one (none of this merging, we’re going highlander style, devouring)..
I love you straight up and dirty..
Feeling good about everything well not everything – working like a madman, flogging a keyboard for crimes in another life, that said, I’ve managed to find something really good. Deep inside the living tissue of my body, I found a little bit of goodness that I’ve managed to focus in on and magnify. This magnification has resulted in an encapsulation of overall coolness and levelled stability on the seesaw of life. I don’t know how to elaborate, but I will try: I shoved my hand inside my chest and extracted this tiny little ball of light, then I stretched and pulled at this goodness until it took the form of another human being - a better person to be, a better person to spend the rest of my days with.. This extraction had to come about in so many different ways and forms, experiences, mistakes, laughs, thoughts, feelings and experiments. Laid back, understanding and carrying an incredible amount of good energy, this other me is kickin’ ass..
I’ve had to teach and learn along this way, sometimes with people that didn’t deserve it, and sometimes with people that taught me all about the things that really mattered.. people were trampled, and people were inflated, all of us, but this is a fact of life – switching to wannabe yogi: you cannot recognize sweet if you have not tasted bitter.. I cannot avoid the truth of what has happened, there are times that I wished I reacted differently: good and bad, but I can say that it has been a journey worth living. That’s the thing about journeys, sometimes while you’re in the middle of it all you think it’s going too slow or that the predetermined chronological events you’ve hoped for are not falling into place. But then when you look back at it all, it just kinda all seems to fall into place, the delays, the pains, the quickness of it all just defines the journey, whether it be pure rock n roll straight from the source, or just some recycled pleasant sound that makes us all happy somewhere deep inside. I’m not going to come out and say that the other good new me has completely taken over, but lets just say we’re holding hands throughout it all, and for right now, that’s good enough for me. One of the two halves will eventually have to devour the other to become one (none of this merging, we’re going highlander style, devouring)..
I love you straight up and dirty..
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
raindrops on ivy and whiskers on tigers
In order to exhume myself from this dreary state I've decided to write down and discuss the things that I really like.. stuff that makes me feel good, maybe it's stuff that makes you feel good too.. Borrowing from the sound of music, I guess these are my favorite things.. I can't believe I just made a sound of music reference, but the truth is, everyone's seen the sound of music, and as hard as you sit and try to suppress those memories, they still manage to surface... I'm not going to deny it, in fact if I could redo the sound of music for the 21st century, I would have the entire musical done in interpretive break dance.. The von trap family doing head spins in their good night song; Edelweiss redone with vocoders; solving a problem like Maria by doing the robot.. Off tangent again, back to the good of the good according to me.. things that settle really well in my belly..
That initial soft tapping of the crème brulee caramelized sugar crust - that feeling when your spoon spring's back in your hand from that initial touch. The anticipation of the crunchy sugar and the sweet soft dessert underneath, that careful tapping, making sure you don't make a fissure, the sound of the tap, the temptation to take your spoon and just break the crust and dig in. I love that feeling.. Learning to appreciate that feeling will make you feel happy and good..
It ain't easy being this fuqin' cheesy - the urge to bust out the umberto tozzi cd sometimes goes against everything inside you.. you refused this impulse before and you will refuse it again.. Sometimes, just sometimes, you need to pull out that cd and throw it on for a listen - why you might ask? 'cause dammit, there was a time when Anna Begins was the greatest song in your repertoire.. if you catch yourself singing along with the words, grasping the remote control like you're doing this live in front of 30,000 people, then so be it.. just make sure you've locked your doors and your windows are tinted..
Moonlight reflecting off the ocean - people will tell you a beautiful sunset or fantastic sunrise is the image to keep ingrained in your mind.. Ok I can't argue with that, but moonlight??? now that's the stuff people write songs about, know what I mean? On a clear night, in full view, with moon beams reflecting off the ocean - you can whisk yourself to anyplace you want to.. Romance, deserted island, pygmies, bonfires on the beach, hunted down by pygmies that are planning to throw you into a bonfire on the beach.. The possibilities of moonlight are endless..
Your life shrinking to a radius of 6 feet - we have so much to worry about in today's world: family, career, religious fundamentalism, forgetting to drop off the movie rentals, speeding tickets, global warming, increasing waists, nuclear proliferation, neo-right conservatism, what to have for dinner, receding hairlines, spam, rising costs, interest charges, PC compatible, copyright infringement, three points dropped, etcetera etcetera etcetera.. Putting yourself in a setting where the only thing you need to concern yourself with is in your immediate vicinity does make you forget about everything.. no worries no stress no nothing except that invisible radius.. I don't have to tell you that life becomes so sweet.. try it sometimes, it's a lot of fun..
Fresh fruit - Be seasonal about your fruit or don't, just enjoy every bit of it.. Mango skins being torn off the bone as you sink your teeth into the fleshy fruit and the juice streams down your forearms... Figs so ripe, tearing them open almost has a sexy adult connotation to them... Hacking away at a cold watermelon, slicing off a half moon, and letting the sweet juice quench a thirst you didn't even know you had.... The smell of oranges under my fingernails... I love fruit..
Calypso music and your feet in the sand - I am an islander, I appreciate laid back living and an easy take on life.. Calypso music just works for me in terms of reminding you that life at the beach is not only okay, it's incredible.. Take your shoes off, dig your feet into the sand and take it easy man.. Listening to calypso just sends you away to a special place where the drinks are always cold, the shirts are always airy, and the wind, well the wind feels brilliant between your toe hairs..
Beautiful light - afternoon light has a special place en mi corazon.. Lazing around as the light breaks through the curtains giving the room that perfect atmospheric setting.. mornings are too bright, evenings are too dark, but afternoons are just perfect. That period from about 4pm till sunset where the light can set the stage for anything: napping, conversing, walking, chilling, driving around, people watching, I'll let you decide what else you can do with afternoon light..
The sound of ocean waves dancing through your ears - Is it the hypnotic repetitive sounds of the waves rolling along the shore? I don't really know, nor do I really care. Falling asleep to the sound of the ocean is up there with eating icecream on a hot day, mimosas for breakfast, james taylor jam sessions, … the best place to nap is under a parasol on the beach – or – if you're close enough, then in your bedroom with the sounds of the ocean filtering through your balcony (hey everyone should have a balcony facing the beach)..
Pancakes for breakfast - the syrup, the melted butter, the fluffiness of it all, pancakes just remind me of a "don't have to do anything else after breakfast" breakfast.. And let me tell you, taking your time eating breakfast , leisurely reading the paper, and attempting the crossword is just the perfect way to your feel good morning.. if I could take an hour and a half for breakfast everyday, I would honestly be a happier person... scrambled eggs with ketchup are also a great way to start the day..
Receiving a 36 cd order in the mail - and that opening act of joy when you expose the insides of the box and feast your eyes on the properly stacked cds in front of you.. Along with t-shirts & sneakers, music is the best form of retail therapy for me... getting a new shipment of what's hot and experimental has me salivating at the prospect of unearthing the next big tune on my stereo.. I love it... sharing that music also feels equally good, very good.. Current addiction until the shipment arrives: Music Kills me, by Rinôçérôse - thank you very much..
Just wanted to point out different things I consider delightful.. I can see the beach theme recurs quite a bit, but like I said, I’m an islander, it’s what I know.. Scratch deeper and I’m almost positive there are more underlying universal themes there for you to explore..
That initial soft tapping of the crème brulee caramelized sugar crust - that feeling when your spoon spring's back in your hand from that initial touch. The anticipation of the crunchy sugar and the sweet soft dessert underneath, that careful tapping, making sure you don't make a fissure, the sound of the tap, the temptation to take your spoon and just break the crust and dig in. I love that feeling.. Learning to appreciate that feeling will make you feel happy and good..
It ain't easy being this fuqin' cheesy - the urge to bust out the umberto tozzi cd sometimes goes against everything inside you.. you refused this impulse before and you will refuse it again.. Sometimes, just sometimes, you need to pull out that cd and throw it on for a listen - why you might ask? 'cause dammit, there was a time when Anna Begins was the greatest song in your repertoire.. if you catch yourself singing along with the words, grasping the remote control like you're doing this live in front of 30,000 people, then so be it.. just make sure you've locked your doors and your windows are tinted..
Moonlight reflecting off the ocean - people will tell you a beautiful sunset or fantastic sunrise is the image to keep ingrained in your mind.. Ok I can't argue with that, but moonlight??? now that's the stuff people write songs about, know what I mean? On a clear night, in full view, with moon beams reflecting off the ocean - you can whisk yourself to anyplace you want to.. Romance, deserted island, pygmies, bonfires on the beach, hunted down by pygmies that are planning to throw you into a bonfire on the beach.. The possibilities of moonlight are endless..
Your life shrinking to a radius of 6 feet - we have so much to worry about in today's world: family, career, religious fundamentalism, forgetting to drop off the movie rentals, speeding tickets, global warming, increasing waists, nuclear proliferation, neo-right conservatism, what to have for dinner, receding hairlines, spam, rising costs, interest charges, PC compatible, copyright infringement, three points dropped, etcetera etcetera etcetera.. Putting yourself in a setting where the only thing you need to concern yourself with is in your immediate vicinity does make you forget about everything.. no worries no stress no nothing except that invisible radius.. I don't have to tell you that life becomes so sweet.. try it sometimes, it's a lot of fun..
Fresh fruit - Be seasonal about your fruit or don't, just enjoy every bit of it.. Mango skins being torn off the bone as you sink your teeth into the fleshy fruit and the juice streams down your forearms... Figs so ripe, tearing them open almost has a sexy adult connotation to them... Hacking away at a cold watermelon, slicing off a half moon, and letting the sweet juice quench a thirst you didn't even know you had.... The smell of oranges under my fingernails... I love fruit..
Calypso music and your feet in the sand - I am an islander, I appreciate laid back living and an easy take on life.. Calypso music just works for me in terms of reminding you that life at the beach is not only okay, it's incredible.. Take your shoes off, dig your feet into the sand and take it easy man.. Listening to calypso just sends you away to a special place where the drinks are always cold, the shirts are always airy, and the wind, well the wind feels brilliant between your toe hairs..
Beautiful light - afternoon light has a special place en mi corazon.. Lazing around as the light breaks through the curtains giving the room that perfect atmospheric setting.. mornings are too bright, evenings are too dark, but afternoons are just perfect. That period from about 4pm till sunset where the light can set the stage for anything: napping, conversing, walking, chilling, driving around, people watching, I'll let you decide what else you can do with afternoon light..
The sound of ocean waves dancing through your ears - Is it the hypnotic repetitive sounds of the waves rolling along the shore? I don't really know, nor do I really care. Falling asleep to the sound of the ocean is up there with eating icecream on a hot day, mimosas for breakfast, james taylor jam sessions, … the best place to nap is under a parasol on the beach – or – if you're close enough, then in your bedroom with the sounds of the ocean filtering through your balcony (hey everyone should have a balcony facing the beach)..
Pancakes for breakfast - the syrup, the melted butter, the fluffiness of it all, pancakes just remind me of a "don't have to do anything else after breakfast" breakfast.. And let me tell you, taking your time eating breakfast , leisurely reading the paper, and attempting the crossword is just the perfect way to your feel good morning.. if I could take an hour and a half for breakfast everyday, I would honestly be a happier person... scrambled eggs with ketchup are also a great way to start the day..
Receiving a 36 cd order in the mail - and that opening act of joy when you expose the insides of the box and feast your eyes on the properly stacked cds in front of you.. Along with t-shirts & sneakers, music is the best form of retail therapy for me... getting a new shipment of what's hot and experimental has me salivating at the prospect of unearthing the next big tune on my stereo.. I love it... sharing that music also feels equally good, very good.. Current addiction until the shipment arrives: Music Kills me, by Rinôçérôse - thank you very much..
Just wanted to point out different things I consider delightful.. I can see the beach theme recurs quite a bit, but like I said, I’m an islander, it’s what I know.. Scratch deeper and I’m almost positive there are more underlying universal themes there for you to explore..
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Vocabulario 10
Episode 10 of the weekend words suggested to you.. apply them into your talk, squeeze them in when possible – drop these words like they’re going out of style.. What’s cooler than calling someone atavistic? I don’t know..
This week’s words are..
Word #1 Copasetic
Word #2 Transmogrify
Word #3 Atavistic
On another note: Johnny Damon, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Jason Giambi, Gary Sheffield, Hideki Matsui, Jorge Posada, Robinson Cano, Bernie Williams – that’s the lineup that I have to deal with – the only thing I can say is WTF??!!!?? Johnny Damon, I have forgiven you for jumping ship.. You’re a tired old man that wanted more money, the Sox weren’t going to give it to you, so you decided to pimp yourself out to the Yankees.. You’re 32, Coco Crisp is 6 years younger than you, and he wasn’t too far off your numbers last year – he’s entering his prime - I hope Epstein knows what he’s doing (I’m pretty sure he does).. I know I’m going to regret this, I know you’ll magically find some fountain of youth and I’ll lament why we didn’t just cave in and give you more money, such is life.. No one is bigger than the team.. You just really hurt me and the Red Sox Nation. I was devastated when they announced your departure, you so quickly shaved off the beard, cut your hair, and threw on that pinstripe suit... Yankees fans, congratulations on your victory.. I hope he turns out to be the Winston Bogarde of Baseball..
i should have never loaded espn.com today..
This week’s words are..
Word #1 Copasetic
Word #2 Transmogrify
Word #3 Atavistic
On another note: Johnny Damon, Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Jason Giambi, Gary Sheffield, Hideki Matsui, Jorge Posada, Robinson Cano, Bernie Williams – that’s the lineup that I have to deal with – the only thing I can say is WTF??!!!?? Johnny Damon, I have forgiven you for jumping ship.. You’re a tired old man that wanted more money, the Sox weren’t going to give it to you, so you decided to pimp yourself out to the Yankees.. You’re 32, Coco Crisp is 6 years younger than you, and he wasn’t too far off your numbers last year – he’s entering his prime - I hope Epstein knows what he’s doing (I’m pretty sure he does).. I know I’m going to regret this, I know you’ll magically find some fountain of youth and I’ll lament why we didn’t just cave in and give you more money, such is life.. No one is bigger than the team.. You just really hurt me and the Red Sox Nation. I was devastated when they announced your departure, you so quickly shaved off the beard, cut your hair, and threw on that pinstripe suit... Yankees fans, congratulations on your victory.. I hope he turns out to be the Winston Bogarde of Baseball..
i should have never loaded espn.com today..
Sunday, February 19, 2006
i speak bahraini very best
Wherever you go, people change names of certain things to suit their culture or their influence or the time in particular ie: a dollar is called a buck because one dollar during the time of old frontier amounted to a buck hide, or something like that. Living in Bahrain, we’ve had our fair share of influences, 50 years ago if not longer, not many people spoke English, so imagine trying to sell an English product to a non-english speaker who’s never seen the product before in his life. You might tell us what you call it, but odds are, we’re going to give it our own name. We still call vacuum cleaners in Bahrain “Hoovers” because that was the first brand of vacuum cleaners sold here..
I’ve deviated.. On this wonderful island I call home, we’ve taken some English, some Indian, and some Persian words and we’ve tweaked them, or morphed them into our own little dialect.. This was all brought on when I was talking about kankarry being poured in the parking lot in our garage and my friend, (a Leb who’s lived most of his live in Bahrain) laughed at me and said we Bahrainis talk funny.. So I thought I’d list some of the words that come to me and explain them, so the next time you hear them you wont be lost and who knows, maybe you can use them in a conversation here and earn some street cred.. I know some of our neighbors and expatriates that live in or around Bahrain will get a kick out of this..
I’m spelling these out phonetically because I’m not even going to attempt to get them out right..
Bistoog – cookie.. Derived from the word biscuit, but modified for our local tongue.. Using this word can refer to any type of cookie, but it’s usually reserved for those delicious Danish Butter Cookies.. waitaminute, did I just say Danish? Boycott that..
Bi-Feater – plumber.. The trade of a pipe fitter. We don’t have the letter ‘p’ in our alphabet, so everything with ‘p’ naturally becomes a ‘b’.. kinda like “bebsi”..
Kan’karry – Concrete.. Don’t ask me how this got twisted, but it sounds cooler than concrete..
Smeet - Cement
Ambaloos – ambulance
Aranj joosh – orange juice
Draiwill – Driver
Ali Willem – Potato - back in the day, the most famous brand of potatoes on the island were imported through a Bahraini English joint venture called “Ali & William”. People here dropped the ampersand and stuck with calling potatoes Ali Willem. We’re not going to waste our breath pronouncing the “&” we’ve got better things to do..
Isbaitar – Hospital (it’s a muharraq thing)
Payk – a drink.. comes from the peg measure for dispensing alcohol, the peg measure must be of glass or brass that is well-tinned or silver-plated. Standard pegs are of 60 ml. (1 peg) and 30 ml. (1/2 peg).. as in “go fix yourself up a payk”
Shughgul Shaddan – Double Time – when they’d give the generators at the oil factory (BAPCO) a rest, the refinery still had to work but on manual labor, so the employees would have to work extra hard. It was called “Shutdown work”, but thanks to the bahranization of the word, it morphed to shaddan..
Ban’nid – close, turn off – I think this came from the word Banned
Balek – (also pronounced palek) plug, as in the little plug on a wire that’s connected to your tv or dvd player or microwave, you get what I mean.
‘Celater – Accelerator – put the pedal to the metal..
Belanty – Penalty.. I love this one, because it’s widely used in the arab world (well the Arabian peninsula world).. I love hearing this working in a bank “if you do not bay the fee now, then you will have a belanty on your account”
Ray’wis – reverse
Wan’ate – (also used in Kuwait) pickup truck.. cause the pickup trucks are usually 1.8 liter engines and because the 1.8 would be plastered on the back of the truck, people just referred to it as a wan’ate.
So that’s what I have, a bunch of words that sound funny when you read them but are a part of our everyday language here that we use without thinking twice about them… we are like this, only. If you know any more words, let us know. It’s like people in Rhode Island calling a water fountain a bubbler.. What’s up with that anyways?
I’ve deviated.. On this wonderful island I call home, we’ve taken some English, some Indian, and some Persian words and we’ve tweaked them, or morphed them into our own little dialect.. This was all brought on when I was talking about kankarry being poured in the parking lot in our garage and my friend, (a Leb who’s lived most of his live in Bahrain) laughed at me and said we Bahrainis talk funny.. So I thought I’d list some of the words that come to me and explain them, so the next time you hear them you wont be lost and who knows, maybe you can use them in a conversation here and earn some street cred.. I know some of our neighbors and expatriates that live in or around Bahrain will get a kick out of this..
I’m spelling these out phonetically because I’m not even going to attempt to get them out right..
Bistoog – cookie.. Derived from the word biscuit, but modified for our local tongue.. Using this word can refer to any type of cookie, but it’s usually reserved for those delicious Danish Butter Cookies.. waitaminute, did I just say Danish? Boycott that..
Bi-Feater – plumber.. The trade of a pipe fitter. We don’t have the letter ‘p’ in our alphabet, so everything with ‘p’ naturally becomes a ‘b’.. kinda like “bebsi”..
Kan’karry – Concrete.. Don’t ask me how this got twisted, but it sounds cooler than concrete..
Smeet - Cement
Ambaloos – ambulance
Aranj joosh – orange juice
Draiwill – Driver
Ali Willem – Potato - back in the day, the most famous brand of potatoes on the island were imported through a Bahraini English joint venture called “Ali & William”. People here dropped the ampersand and stuck with calling potatoes Ali Willem. We’re not going to waste our breath pronouncing the “&” we’ve got better things to do..
Isbaitar – Hospital (it’s a muharraq thing)
Payk – a drink.. comes from the peg measure for dispensing alcohol, the peg measure must be of glass or brass that is well-tinned or silver-plated. Standard pegs are of 60 ml. (1 peg) and 30 ml. (1/2 peg).. as in “go fix yourself up a payk”
Shughgul Shaddan – Double Time – when they’d give the generators at the oil factory (BAPCO) a rest, the refinery still had to work but on manual labor, so the employees would have to work extra hard. It was called “Shutdown work”, but thanks to the bahranization of the word, it morphed to shaddan..
Ban’nid – close, turn off – I think this came from the word Banned
Balek – (also pronounced palek) plug, as in the little plug on a wire that’s connected to your tv or dvd player or microwave, you get what I mean.
‘Celater – Accelerator – put the pedal to the metal..
Belanty – Penalty.. I love this one, because it’s widely used in the arab world (well the Arabian peninsula world).. I love hearing this working in a bank “if you do not bay the fee now, then you will have a belanty on your account”
Ray’wis – reverse
Wan’ate – (also used in Kuwait) pickup truck.. cause the pickup trucks are usually 1.8 liter engines and because the 1.8 would be plastered on the back of the truck, people just referred to it as a wan’ate.
So that’s what I have, a bunch of words that sound funny when you read them but are a part of our everyday language here that we use without thinking twice about them… we are like this, only. If you know any more words, let us know. It’s like people in Rhode Island calling a water fountain a bubbler.. What’s up with that anyways?
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Vocabulario Nueve
I was away - but now I’m back.. We’ve resumed your semi regular Vocabulario, and this week’s words were inspired by some & insinuated by others. Here they are in no particular order except the one in which I typed them up in...
Word #1 Riveting
Word #2 Skulduggery
Word #3 Siphon
“I like riveting stories about corruption that reveal skullduggery and lots of money siphoned off to foreign accounts.”
Random thought of randomness: When I say concubine, I think of porcupines.. I know they rhyme a little, but it’s just this weird name association thing I do.. I would love to have a concubine or concubines for that matter.. if you’ve got quills, live in a tree trunk and want to love me, then drop me a line..
Word #1 Riveting
Word #2 Skulduggery
Word #3 Siphon
“I like riveting stories about corruption that reveal skullduggery and lots of money siphoned off to foreign accounts.”
Random thought of randomness: When I say concubine, I think of porcupines.. I know they rhyme a little, but it’s just this weird name association thing I do.. I would love to have a concubine or concubines for that matter.. if you’ve got quills, live in a tree trunk and want to love me, then drop me a line..
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Wisdumb
A bunch of people all over the world were requested to provide some valuable nuggets of wisdom. Some people sent some very thoughtful and chicken soup for the soul stuff, some motivational talk, some philosophical mumbo jumbo, some downright insane, and some quite educational. I’d like to add a statement here by saying that these lines of wisdom were directly pasted from whatever the person sent me, no editing or censoring took place, you cannot hold me accountable for what’s written here, unless you like it, then it was totally my idea to bring these thoughts together. So without further ado, I present to you a global project here on Bahraini Rants entitled: Wise Words of Wisdom from Random People.. enjoy..
Never play leapfrog with a unicorn.
Nobody scratch your back, but your own nail.
He who is shy does not bring children.
Cupcakes are like hugs -- with icing!
When a guy is 16 17 and 18 he MUST do the things a 16, 17 and 18 year old does. If he doesn't he will wind up doing them when he is 30.
Insomnia can be easily remedied by drinking a warm glass of milk and jumping.
Never play 'mouse caught in a mousetrap' with your penis.
What would you do if you weren't afraid? Now go do it!
Don’t brush your hair and then put a turtleneck on immediately after.
Make mistakes faster.
Never play tag with a paraplegic; it’s just not fair.
life . . . live it!
People who know how to eat sushi don't order California rolls.
Pus somewhere + pus nowhere = pus under the diaphragm.
Virginity like bubble, one prick, all gone.
If you're gonna play with the stapler then at least don't keep your finger between the claws.
Man who scratch ass should not bite fingernails.
If in Prague and you're talked into getting in a taxi solo at 4am heading to an unknown destination.. use common sense and jump out if the vehicle starts reversing down an alleyway.
No fear…if you do it, are you going to die?
Sex alleviates the tension caused by love.
run everyday, eat your veggies, but don't miss out on coffee and chocolates.
If people are going to start telling the truth around here, I'm going to bed.
Without information, you are nothing.
I'm a veteran. I've seen hobos miss the train, cats miss the rat, monkey miss the branch.
Oddly, life is much like a house; the view changes from where you stand and the world depends on where you place your windows.
Never go to pay your respects at a funeral after a three-martini lunch.
Timor-Leste (also known as East-Timor) was the last country to be admitted to the United Nations. Following Switzerland, in 2002, it became the 191st member. Timor-Leste is an Island off the coast of SouthEast Asia and Australia. It also happens to be the poorest country in the world, with a purchasing
(or lack of) power parity of $400.
Fit is the new Rich
The impossible lives right next door to the possible. People ring its doorbell by accident everyday.
As we get older; it becomes harder to kid ourselves.
To live a full life one must keep all of the following in balance as well as given the same level of importance: love, career, friends, family, hobbies, motherhood. Become obsessed with one and it throws everything off.
Despite the high cost of living, it remains popular.
Tell the people you love you love them, cause you never know when they'll be taken away.
Sometimes life just feels like you've stepped into a pile of shit on the day you forgot to wear shoes.
The only things you regret on your deathbed are the experiences you never had.
Always stir your martinis never shake, it just gets cloudy, and who wants to drink a spermy looking martini?
s = ut + 1/2*a*t^2
v = u + at
v^2 = u^2 + 2as
You cannot call yourself an adult until you can answer the question, What do you really want? in clear, truthful and uncertain terms.
Produce great pumpkins, the pies will follow later.
Always be nice to waiters - they're the ones who decide whether to spit in your food or not.
Never give advice without explaining your costs first.
Be an icebreaker (conversation wise. Don't go around breaking ice, that's just weird).
Next time you see someone handing out leaflets in the street, take one - it'll help them get home faster.
..be Careful where the dog shits ya.
Contributors: soos, sinister greg, farah, amunki, dave, didi, ricky, no static, mto, karpinski, chanad, lina, mahmood, d, randommo, n, tammyp, deniz, mohamed, rf, tibor, sahar, falco, 248am, steve, barrak, jellybean, bonsaim, leena, and me.
special thanks to the proofreading sleuth..
Never play leapfrog with a unicorn.
Nobody scratch your back, but your own nail.
He who is shy does not bring children.
Cupcakes are like hugs -- with icing!
When a guy is 16 17 and 18 he MUST do the things a 16, 17 and 18 year old does. If he doesn't he will wind up doing them when he is 30.
Insomnia can be easily remedied by drinking a warm glass of milk and jumping.
Never play 'mouse caught in a mousetrap' with your penis.
What would you do if you weren't afraid? Now go do it!
Don’t brush your hair and then put a turtleneck on immediately after.
Make mistakes faster.
Never play tag with a paraplegic; it’s just not fair.
life . . . live it!
People who know how to eat sushi don't order California rolls.
Pus somewhere + pus nowhere = pus under the diaphragm.
Virginity like bubble, one prick, all gone.
If you're gonna play with the stapler then at least don't keep your finger between the claws.
Man who scratch ass should not bite fingernails.
If in Prague and you're talked into getting in a taxi solo at 4am heading to an unknown destination.. use common sense and jump out if the vehicle starts reversing down an alleyway.
No fear…if you do it, are you going to die?
Sex alleviates the tension caused by love.
run everyday, eat your veggies, but don't miss out on coffee and chocolates.
If people are going to start telling the truth around here, I'm going to bed.
Without information, you are nothing.
I'm a veteran. I've seen hobos miss the train, cats miss the rat, monkey miss the branch.
Oddly, life is much like a house; the view changes from where you stand and the world depends on where you place your windows.
Never go to pay your respects at a funeral after a three-martini lunch.
Timor-Leste (also known as East-Timor) was the last country to be admitted to the United Nations. Following Switzerland, in 2002, it became the 191st member. Timor-Leste is an Island off the coast of SouthEast Asia and Australia. It also happens to be the poorest country in the world, with a purchasing
(or lack of) power parity of $400.
Fit is the new Rich
The impossible lives right next door to the possible. People ring its doorbell by accident everyday.
As we get older; it becomes harder to kid ourselves.
To live a full life one must keep all of the following in balance as well as given the same level of importance: love, career, friends, family, hobbies, motherhood. Become obsessed with one and it throws everything off.
Despite the high cost of living, it remains popular.
Tell the people you love you love them, cause you never know when they'll be taken away.
Sometimes life just feels like you've stepped into a pile of shit on the day you forgot to wear shoes.
The only things you regret on your deathbed are the experiences you never had.
Always stir your martinis never shake, it just gets cloudy, and who wants to drink a spermy looking martini?
s = ut + 1/2*a*t^2
v = u + at
v^2 = u^2 + 2as
You cannot call yourself an adult until you can answer the question, What do you really want? in clear, truthful and uncertain terms.
Produce great pumpkins, the pies will follow later.
Always be nice to waiters - they're the ones who decide whether to spit in your food or not.
Never give advice without explaining your costs first.
Be an icebreaker (conversation wise. Don't go around breaking ice, that's just weird).
Next time you see someone handing out leaflets in the street, take one - it'll help them get home faster.
..be Careful where the dog shits ya.
Contributors: soos, sinister greg, farah, amunki, dave, didi, ricky, no static, mto, karpinski, chanad, lina, mahmood, d, randommo, n, tammyp, deniz, mohamed, rf, tibor, sahar, falco, 248am, steve, barrak, jellybean, bonsaim, leena, and me.
special thanks to the proofreading sleuth..
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Vocabulario OCHO
So we’ve reached the 8th installment of this vocabulary building session here at Bahraini Rant incorporated. After this post, the ol’blog would have contributed to 24 new or not so new words in your vocabulary. Anyways, enjoy the words; use them at your discretion. I shall now stop this malarkey and skedaddle back to my life, the real one.
Word #1 Malarkey
Word #2 Lackadaisical
Word #3 Skedaddle
Oh by the way: I am Spartacus.
Word #1 Malarkey
Word #2 Lackadaisical
Word #3 Skedaddle
Oh by the way: I am Spartacus.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
hellophoto
does my tail look fat in these scales?
even bananas suffer from shrinkage after a dip in the ocean
hey larry, your gill's in my face, waitaminute that's not your gill, goddamit larry!
a whole lot of cancer
a message to all you impressionable crustaceans: Being a mule will result in lobster cavity searches, stay away from drugs kids
mmm, cerveza
samirai jack, new wave new wave
slam, da da daat, da da daat, let the boys be boys
my hand as featured in the vw ad that never was...
thifting to loodakrith thpeed
bloggers in the mirror appear stupider than they really are
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
SPAM, it's what's for dinner..
Don’t you hate getting chain letters - Or those “send these to 70 people and your wish will come true” emails - or bill gates will send you a jillion dollars if you email this to everyone on your mailing list..
I have to admit, I sometimes get these silly forwards, and then because I have a couple of minutes of free time, or I might be procrastinating the entire day, I’ll do the little quiz.. you pick your favorite color, you write down the your first initial, you spend the time of adding all the digits in your shoe size, birthday, and partner’s cycle. Then you make your wish - pluck out a strand of your hair and light it on fire repeating the chants in the email…
And then what? They tell you, now forward this to 5 people and your wish will come true, if you forward it to 10 people, your wish will come true before your next birthday.. Shit, you’re so close to your dreams of totalitarian world domination, but now you need to send this out to your friends.. This is when my neurotic thinking comes in, ok my friends will think I’m a totally mentally defective idiot for sending them this stupid forward, so what do I do? Plus what if someone else I send this to is also planning totalitarian world domination; do I want to ruin my chances? That’s when the address book scouring begins.. When I start searching for those old friends that I might have completely lost touch with, group partners from some of my classes in college, defunct emails, anything.. but then the thinking kicks into high gear, what will happen if the powers that be realize that I’m kinda cheating by forwarding this email to people I don’t really consider close friends? Will my wish not come true? You know what else pisses me off? When they actually include a story of how now you’re hexed, you must send this email out to this many people or something evil will befall you.. you really expect me to believe that? Beelzebub’s hanging around the web looking to cast evil down my way? “hmmm, that Bahraini rant bastard didn’t forward to 20 people, FIRE & BRIMSTONE HIS ASS EVIL MONKEYS!!!!!!!”
All this thinking then usually tires me out and I just delete the email forever giving up on my dreams to have the entire world sing praise to me… damn you good fortune forwards..
The other email spam I just can’t stand are the please give me your bank account emails..
It always starts the same way.. some poor kid in some underdeveloped country is sitting there telling you about how these rebels have killed his/her father who just so happened to be the ex-minister of mining gold, diamonds, and little people.. before the daddy got killed by Chuck Taylor Rebels (Klashnikovs and high tops) he took out 5 million dollars in unmarked US treasury bills, but they were locked up in a security firm in another underdeveloped country. The child then asks you for your bank account so they can transfer the money to your account and then have someone rewire the account and then they get your credit card number and then BABAM! You have USD 33,000 worth of calls to miss Cleo on your tab..
The thing that gets me on these emails, is that the grammar is atrocious.. I mean honestly, your daddy was the minister of mining gold, diamonds, and little people; and he couldn’t afford to give you a proper education? I knew a lot of kids in college that were the children of the most corrupt people in Africa, and they could all speak English or French good… and they get so chummy with you in those emails don’t they? Hello my friend, whoa whoa whoa, you’re asking me to be part of a money laundering ring, you’re not my buddy just yet… lets get to know each other first, lets maim some rebels together, do some ancient right of passage that would make me eat a living human thinking it’s a rib eye, maybe get a little militia going, poison a water supply or two, then we can get chummy pal..
What would really get my attention and would actually have me consider replying is if they just jazzed up their Spam email a little bit.. just a little more attention people, that’s all I’m asking, make it a little more enjoyable to read.. maybe they could change the circumstances.. the money could be in a security company in another town that’s run by the evil mayor who’s militia is made up of crazy drugged up rebels. Then what’s needed are the services of a crack ex gulf war rangers team, comprised of an aging leader who loves it when a plan comes together, the pretty intelligence dude, the psychotic transport specialist, and the big bad mothafuqa.. This team will have to make their way to the underdeveloped African country, meet the dead minister’s child, agree to the terms, devise a cunning plan to break into the security firms vault using a pimped out school bus and a map the pretty intelligence dude got from sleeping with the mayors wife. During their raid, they discover that the mayor is extremely corrupt and he’s pumping experimental chemicals from Pharmaceutical Corporation XYZ into the town’s water supply, leaving the townspeople feeling very nauseous and with irritable bowl movements.. A huge standoff could possibly ensue where the psychotic transportations specialist will get shot in the leg saving a malnourished child from being caught in the crossfire.. the battle rages on, the mayor captures the four heroes at gunpoint while he looks away the big bad mothafuqa throws a punch and lodges his fist in the mayor’s skull he dies and the militia disbands running off into the hills.. the security firm’s vault is broken open, the treasury bills are found, along with missing national treasures, a dodo, and a cure for AIDS.. and everyone goes home happy.. now that would warrant a USD 33,000 psychic friends network bill.. yeah…
Waitaminute, what? don’t listen to me.. I’m just babbling…
I have to admit, I sometimes get these silly forwards, and then because I have a couple of minutes of free time, or I might be procrastinating the entire day, I’ll do the little quiz.. you pick your favorite color, you write down the your first initial, you spend the time of adding all the digits in your shoe size, birthday, and partner’s cycle. Then you make your wish - pluck out a strand of your hair and light it on fire repeating the chants in the email…
And then what? They tell you, now forward this to 5 people and your wish will come true, if you forward it to 10 people, your wish will come true before your next birthday.. Shit, you’re so close to your dreams of totalitarian world domination, but now you need to send this out to your friends.. This is when my neurotic thinking comes in, ok my friends will think I’m a totally mentally defective idiot for sending them this stupid forward, so what do I do? Plus what if someone else I send this to is also planning totalitarian world domination; do I want to ruin my chances? That’s when the address book scouring begins.. When I start searching for those old friends that I might have completely lost touch with, group partners from some of my classes in college, defunct emails, anything.. but then the thinking kicks into high gear, what will happen if the powers that be realize that I’m kinda cheating by forwarding this email to people I don’t really consider close friends? Will my wish not come true? You know what else pisses me off? When they actually include a story of how now you’re hexed, you must send this email out to this many people or something evil will befall you.. you really expect me to believe that? Beelzebub’s hanging around the web looking to cast evil down my way? “hmmm, that Bahraini rant bastard didn’t forward to 20 people, FIRE & BRIMSTONE HIS ASS EVIL MONKEYS!!!!!!!”
All this thinking then usually tires me out and I just delete the email forever giving up on my dreams to have the entire world sing praise to me… damn you good fortune forwards..
The other email spam I just can’t stand are the please give me your bank account emails..
It always starts the same way.. some poor kid in some underdeveloped country is sitting there telling you about how these rebels have killed his/her father who just so happened to be the ex-minister of mining gold, diamonds, and little people.. before the daddy got killed by Chuck Taylor Rebels (Klashnikovs and high tops) he took out 5 million dollars in unmarked US treasury bills, but they were locked up in a security firm in another underdeveloped country. The child then asks you for your bank account so they can transfer the money to your account and then have someone rewire the account and then they get your credit card number and then BABAM! You have USD 33,000 worth of calls to miss Cleo on your tab..
The thing that gets me on these emails, is that the grammar is atrocious.. I mean honestly, your daddy was the minister of mining gold, diamonds, and little people; and he couldn’t afford to give you a proper education? I knew a lot of kids in college that were the children of the most corrupt people in Africa, and they could all speak English or French good… and they get so chummy with you in those emails don’t they? Hello my friend, whoa whoa whoa, you’re asking me to be part of a money laundering ring, you’re not my buddy just yet… lets get to know each other first, lets maim some rebels together, do some ancient right of passage that would make me eat a living human thinking it’s a rib eye, maybe get a little militia going, poison a water supply or two, then we can get chummy pal..
What would really get my attention and would actually have me consider replying is if they just jazzed up their Spam email a little bit.. just a little more attention people, that’s all I’m asking, make it a little more enjoyable to read.. maybe they could change the circumstances.. the money could be in a security company in another town that’s run by the evil mayor who’s militia is made up of crazy drugged up rebels. Then what’s needed are the services of a crack ex gulf war rangers team, comprised of an aging leader who loves it when a plan comes together, the pretty intelligence dude, the psychotic transport specialist, and the big bad mothafuqa.. This team will have to make their way to the underdeveloped African country, meet the dead minister’s child, agree to the terms, devise a cunning plan to break into the security firms vault using a pimped out school bus and a map the pretty intelligence dude got from sleeping with the mayors wife. During their raid, they discover that the mayor is extremely corrupt and he’s pumping experimental chemicals from Pharmaceutical Corporation XYZ into the town’s water supply, leaving the townspeople feeling very nauseous and with irritable bowl movements.. A huge standoff could possibly ensue where the psychotic transportations specialist will get shot in the leg saving a malnourished child from being caught in the crossfire.. the battle rages on, the mayor captures the four heroes at gunpoint while he looks away the big bad mothafuqa throws a punch and lodges his fist in the mayor’s skull he dies and the militia disbands running off into the hills.. the security firm’s vault is broken open, the treasury bills are found, along with missing national treasures, a dodo, and a cure for AIDS.. and everyone goes home happy.. now that would warrant a USD 33,000 psychic friends network bill.. yeah…
Waitaminute, what? don’t listen to me.. I’m just babbling…
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