tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16236998820186864882024-02-01T19:01:24.772-08:00Home of the Snapping TurtleCorruption.Politics.Injustice.Society.Lasagne...Let There Be Satire.Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-34738998375442189062011-08-29T23:11:00.000-07:002011-08-29T23:13:18.787-07:00A Finishing School For Men<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #f1c232; font-size: small;"><b>.......But why finish when you don't have to Start?</b></span> </td></tr>
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What is the purpose of a 'finishing school'? A place (for people with ogles of money) to polish ones etiquette, learn how to cook and perhaps pick up some pretentious mannerism hide insecurities and annoy the population at large. Traditionally, Women have been recipients of the Finishing School treatment. Now, one could hardly contend that the women of Pakistan need these finishing schools to 'hone' their skills (for all those who doubt this assertion, ask your nearest 18 year old girl to make a half decent chapatti and let me know how the food poisoning treats you).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CV7AfZTPAw6XvbY8N0w9L_qxzrt7gvtEomQSZRbwv089mm9ObkhyIgZdwAnu1OWfSycVRErKlmAZYn0EIODhlZPoQM-G9SCYeZnyLkrsPx07DxjZWoqFKzbt2zLi0BTM1OC7E0Jz3NF_/s1600/c5566lip_image001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9CV7AfZTPAw6XvbY8N0w9L_qxzrt7gvtEomQSZRbwv089mm9ObkhyIgZdwAnu1OWfSycVRErKlmAZYn0EIODhlZPoQM-G9SCYeZnyLkrsPx07DxjZWoqFKzbt2zLi0BTM1OC7E0Jz3NF_/s320/c5566lip_image001.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Man-ners</td></tr>
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Men on the other hand are cast adrift onto the world with the motto, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. But I think now the time has come that equality reigns supreme, if women can bat their eyes into a finishing school that makes them more womanly, men deserve the same modicum of respect and accessibility to refine and strut their manliness.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40Asd9mcxvCj_NQt0C-I4Z7xLPDg-1PMe1kEOjhF2uoP3JungFHVGOegzg_VO_oeg9gLE6eU1PGXlPCs3CA9y6r_JWEc8-yRcQM_DuSDkNzdegzBA_o4IhzZAWRNKz8g8CgL5mynWuJi8/s1600/svFINISHINGSCHOOL-420x0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj40Asd9mcxvCj_NQt0C-I4Z7xLPDg-1PMe1kEOjhF2uoP3JungFHVGOegzg_VO_oeg9gLE6eU1PGXlPCs3CA9y6r_JWEc8-yRcQM_DuSDkNzdegzBA_o4IhzZAWRNKz8g8CgL5mynWuJi8/s320/svFINISHINGSCHOOL-420x0.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haha, you're right, Egyptian Cotton is FABULOUS!</td></tr>
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Now, the curriculum for a Men's Finishing School would be catered to a fairly faulty concept of what a stereotypical Pakistani man should be, coupled with some skills that would endear them to their partners and make them suitable for marital bliss.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjr9jyI9ljFbL4W_BHuBceIFvNePIDipheQm0Okx9VvsuDD0-TFOWifUH8HZC7KPCkF7YsS6m6fHRBJZBFZ2x7FkhQ6scPFGKRI6lvIvFFKVkL33GRCFMatD6wuRRVYeSEXZVONFBOhyo9/s1600/spitting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjr9jyI9ljFbL4W_BHuBceIFvNePIDipheQm0Okx9VvsuDD0-TFOWifUH8HZC7KPCkF7YsS6m6fHRBJZBFZ2x7FkhQ6scPFGKRI6lvIvFFKVkL33GRCFMatD6wuRRVYeSEXZVONFBOhyo9/s1600/spitting.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spitting spreads diseases, so get ready for some good old fashioned chemical warfare. </td></tr>
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Every Pakistani male should be well versed in the traditional art of spitting paan, and not just the act or the distance, but the size, velocity and general texture of the paan spit. It's imperative that this institution school the male youth to be the best paan spitters the world has ever seen. To this end, an inter-city paan spitting championship will be held.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ir-PK652DeNm6Lu3OmrLAQUgkIw_94cuvjE2UsWdut4IF7yjAoFVY6snNJUUTCeBPdLalFwVuIVj6Nt4QIDHnIoa-GW5NLINXx1uQAF4dH6HeRcU3xohh5XsAEi0dDYF5aR7zMVfJoUz/s1600/mujhse-fraaandship-karoge-02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ir-PK652DeNm6Lu3OmrLAQUgkIw_94cuvjE2UsWdut4IF7yjAoFVY6snNJUUTCeBPdLalFwVuIVj6Nt4QIDHnIoa-GW5NLINXx1uQAF4dH6HeRcU3xohh5XsAEi0dDYF5aR7zMVfJoUz/s320/mujhse-fraaandship-karoge-02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whatta Pose?</td></tr>
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No Pakistan is really complete, without having substantive skills in the seduction of women, being taught how to pronounce fraaAAanship, Solid and Tight are just a few of the words that the finishing school courses will focus on to ensure that a Pakistani male can get ridiculed by attractive (and not so attractive women on a continuous basis. There will also be in depth training into the mysteries of Facebook stalking and how to fraanship girls with message of love, honor and Lassi.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa2WRhPsA5PX6nt4PmeYATXP4JP8Larm_OANs69wcSexYI0Mqu0Af0r_FaQRWvfCDaIapJMRHnYq1-bzC9VIFvLvPPMXwLy75_7yMhQDL4SRfki1ZY6bEp-bKj3WdHdRwwZgV699c6PYB/s1600/2010-12-01-i-don%2527t-need-you-and-i-never-will.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqa2WRhPsA5PX6nt4PmeYATXP4JP8Larm_OANs69wcSexYI0Mqu0Af0r_FaQRWvfCDaIapJMRHnYq1-bzC9VIFvLvPPMXwLy75_7yMhQDL4SRfki1ZY6bEp-bKj3WdHdRwwZgV699c6PYB/s320/2010-12-01-i-don%2527t-need-you-and-i-never-will.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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It has been often noted that a man is fairly partial to his mothers cooking and tends to not appreciate his wifes cooking with the same fervor. A Men's finishing school would ensure that the Men's diet would consist of nothing but the worst possible food, this will result in men, relishing any partially cooked food put in front of them. This will additionally serve as a diet, to return the traditional Pakistani male to the lean mean conquering machine sort.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAzIPqcns10-biYpUqd-tK5Glge_xdGJ0xqkMUo4jQ3V9a_jNgWp6UwvwoqyhRMrTtfrpIGKAmVElcnlNE67sCqCI8OGu0OZVUNY2DO89ffW_A0wKTTdgznmJs4agD7nL4T-Y4dcf1azB/s1600/DSC_5578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAzIPqcns10-biYpUqd-tK5Glge_xdGJ0xqkMUo4jQ3V9a_jNgWp6UwvwoqyhRMrTtfrpIGKAmVElcnlNE67sCqCI8OGu0OZVUNY2DO89ffW_A0wKTTdgznmJs4agD7nL4T-Y4dcf1azB/s320/DSC_5578.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disgusting looking but delicious</td></tr>
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In an age of video games, computer games and board games, Pakistan's sporting heritage is slowly being lost, however a Men's Finishing School would seek to address the situation by putting its participants through a strenuous physical regimen of Cricket, Kabaddi, Basket Ball and Hockey. Increasing a man's proficiency with wooden sticks is as important as knowing how to utilize ones body strength. The purpose of the basket ball training is to assist men in their efforts to toss their dirty clothes into their laundry bucket without missing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9RLYRuSwxzENQE27IbEKLAs89CEz-u8RUV9gMNaMK1gPJoHJ0CCHTEDNzC-TeyzuFKIghkg4PJEYnvJ0uy2EwjgEC1oQEzU-kv2CEBzkoETNJGZGeOYSXQjpe_s4dzdNxEg2Ed2onKGGJ/s1600/Geordie-Finishing-School-working.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9RLYRuSwxzENQE27IbEKLAs89CEz-u8RUV9gMNaMK1gPJoHJ0CCHTEDNzC-TeyzuFKIghkg4PJEYnvJ0uy2EwjgEC1oQEzU-kv2CEBzkoETNJGZGeOYSXQjpe_s4dzdNxEg2Ed2onKGGJ/s320/Geordie-Finishing-School-working.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Consistently Disgusting. </td></tr>
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Women tend to have a terrific propensity to multi-task, men tend to fall short in that respect, but with proper training at a Man's Finishing School, one can be confident that a man can be trained to pay attention to his partner for a prolonged period of time......whilst watching a hearty game of cricket....or playing brick breaker.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvV2iIiJNC4r6W74D396EVnyTYyTeUFV5oTudCefo9A_GCD0ALjej3ubwHB9hLa2-PDk0SawqcnCoqWDlstPb4zwzuYaT8lUl3IBIa8Pclys1FxwMTRjrltZ1S2_6xETInvH7stCCrdob/s1600/man-therapy-thumb8528090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvV2iIiJNC4r6W74D396EVnyTYyTeUFV5oTudCefo9A_GCD0ALjej3ubwHB9hLa2-PDk0SawqcnCoqWDlstPb4zwzuYaT8lUl3IBIa8Pclys1FxwMTRjrltZ1S2_6xETInvH7stCCrdob/s320/man-therapy-thumb8528090.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the right kind of therapy. </td></tr>
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Therapy will be provided to all the scholars of the Finishing school to ensure that any emotional feeling are quickly suppressed, killed, disposed off and preferably drowned.....in Zamzam water. A Pakistani man is expected to have the emotional sensitivity of a brick wall. In order to extinguish any feelings of emotion, the men will be required to stoically watch cricket matches of Pakistan losing to India.....on repeat.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zZ39V2XrhXQEj0WpGlkbj4-qwKkjyI-TEen_cI5Q71v6frr7STjbBT3V_cOvt57zcZSBwCnkgMZFeIUf8hhJbpjOd1UMSK8mTJb0ZZY9If8_-tKAJ5Md_kfuAw7ouITTlok4ejU-ZAfH/s1600/img_1863_mujhse-fraaandship-karoge-2011-theatrical-trailer-189x175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8zZ39V2XrhXQEj0WpGlkbj4-qwKkjyI-TEen_cI5Q71v6frr7STjbBT3V_cOvt57zcZSBwCnkgMZFeIUf8hhJbpjOd1UMSK8mTJb0ZZY9If8_-tKAJ5Md_kfuAw7ouITTlok4ejU-ZAfH/s1600/img_1863_mujhse-fraaandship-karoge-2011-theatrical-trailer-189x175.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haha, jokes on you, Desi Men are as perfect as we're gonna be!</td></tr>
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How it has come to a point, shamefully I might add, that decent Pakistani men are also in need of a finishing school to hone their manliness skills is a question well worth asking. I blame the media.<br />
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A version of this article appeared in the Dawn Newspaper.Allegedly. I think. Possibly. </div>
Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-5920092822859429562011-02-08T04:17:00.000-08:002011-02-08T04:17:51.590-08:00Pakistani Capitalists Rock!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwsxX23MX9q0xhPGleaTjlo8Cqczbz0gV6pH4SkRHVUBpJKdH6C2elIEhz6ZJKgemZb5rBagpaBv22isQfFNg9BCQ98_tS1RMLB0jCs3YhgY-1vEQh53CZVh1-akn_OVxaJVKU-pROp66/s1600/600px-Capitalism_graffiti_luebeck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCwsxX23MX9q0xhPGleaTjlo8Cqczbz0gV6pH4SkRHVUBpJKdH6C2elIEhz6ZJKgemZb5rBagpaBv22isQfFNg9BCQ98_tS1RMLB0jCs3YhgY-1vEQh53CZVh1-akn_OVxaJVKU-pROp66/s400/600px-Capitalism_graffiti_luebeck.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>IT ROCKS!</b></span></td></tr>
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Everyone has their own theory on how to improve Pakistan, the typical answers are a concoction of removing the <i>allegedly</i> corrupt politicos, enforcing one's preferred Islamic ideology on the masses at large and a dash of lip service to this magical reservoir of talent that the youth apparently stores deep in the depths of their facebook accounts. <br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEx9kVS3RaaOBcc_1Lua0QtF7Fx7P6_UbxRh1uEDMbVpJa9TOFom3WA5X5ulVIOaktEcQ6qqkOVyVsQ0aSutffPqNA-lC7U-TsNV0N9Eqvb7n-La7mFb2aBYxJVwAR8aDJOeQvsI-CR86/s1600/pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwEx9kVS3RaaOBcc_1Lua0QtF7Fx7P6_UbxRh1uEDMbVpJa9TOFom3WA5X5ulVIOaktEcQ6qqkOVyVsQ0aSutffPqNA-lC7U-TsNV0N9Eqvb7n-La7mFb2aBYxJVwAR8aDJOeQvsI-CR86/s320/pic.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What our Talent Pool Really Looks Like...</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
I on the other hand, (as I usually do) tend to disagree. If we rid ourselves of the politicians, what verifiable evidence do we have that the next lot would be any better? Though I can see why wishful thinking is an excellent strategy for stump speeches and drawing room warfare, but the fact of the matter is we'll never agree on Islamic ideology, far too many individuals are convinced that they hold the right formula (The Afghan Taliban came from somewhere) and lets face it, we can barely elect leaders whom we can stand for more than two years at a time before asking the army to step in, deciding on a unified religious ideology has as much chances for success as the international Beer Drinking Olympics being held in Pakistan, being jointly sponsored by the Jamaat-e-Islami and Mossad.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6uoSTLDkaUxhkVddzFnzEaKw1Yrb8WW4SezXpA2c2xMI3oaOH-HQDPrx5lYyAfsxEV_SoSPzdMC0OY1uFRRnUcguy2lVQEoF7E7e-7ZbrTY5nHYIPsNarhTgAoFpHnb2mRfz5cCL4WKV/s1600/2525484050089075106pgTxed_fs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6uoSTLDkaUxhkVddzFnzEaKw1Yrb8WW4SezXpA2c2xMI3oaOH-HQDPrx5lYyAfsxEV_SoSPzdMC0OY1uFRRnUcguy2lVQEoF7E7e-7ZbrTY5nHYIPsNarhTgAoFpHnb2mRfz5cCL4WKV/s320/2525484050089075106pgTxed_fs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patriotic Pakistanis: Always Representing</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I feel that the only class of people that can save Pakistan are the entrepreneurs. Not just the good, halal, we're ashamed of our good fortune sort, but the greediest breed of capitalist vermin that evolution and a steady diet of Maggi noodles has to offer. As the wise Singaporean leader Lee Kuan Yew once remarked "it is difficult to convince a well fed man to become an extremist". Now in order for that to happen, the not well fed likely to become a terrorist fellows, would need something resembling gainful employment and not be an avid risk for life insurance companies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwqcL56oOedUMoOwiAVZvSluQadxdNx0vhl5E7rP38cLcIOcuzbUb3C2fLcR1DPKxdQNfEakrRxG5mk0EJgK_d24oZ0AxYIRWa3nGIWrT0OH3-6s8dsJc_edl2YU1oLRv2fcf5Z3fLsaz/s1600/2369088200060042289oDWqmx_fs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlwqcL56oOedUMoOwiAVZvSluQadxdNx0vhl5E7rP38cLcIOcuzbUb3C2fLcR1DPKxdQNfEakrRxG5mk0EJgK_d24oZ0AxYIRWa3nGIWrT0OH3-6s8dsJc_edl2YU1oLRv2fcf5Z3fLsaz/s320/2369088200060042289oDWqmx_fs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Its not that difficult to convince drunk people to do stupid things though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here are some ideas I concocted as I surveyed our Magical 'We believe in unlikely Miracles' Nation:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL6RPJu-Cy5KDv2hcfUxmKSwEPVRDqGYWkyZBbF5BexnHIfzH1DDr1VIprTn7lpSeyJsLevhMFZHE_kI8M3UTs-8Ume1qTThl-QpY8UdGOwyT6cHhng2uYrEAbWyna8u2zxGlAbJ4FQyR/s1600/imagesdfs.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL6RPJu-Cy5KDv2hcfUxmKSwEPVRDqGYWkyZBbF5BexnHIfzH1DDr1VIprTn7lpSeyJsLevhMFZHE_kI8M3UTs-8Ume1qTThl-QpY8UdGOwyT6cHhng2uYrEAbWyna8u2zxGlAbJ4FQyR/s320/imagesdfs.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Desi Friend Finder: Most fights or 'phuddas' in Pakistan involve a substantive amount of posturing and grandiose threats, however, before the fight begins, there is typically end with some form of 'compro' (compromise), when some of the opposing sights recognize each other from a family they both attended whilst still in their nappies. The resulting 'compro<strike>mise</strike>' typically entails an embarrassing assortment of black shirted pubescent teen boys hugging each other whilst acknowledging the brotherhood of Islam and how Mr Burger really does make the best burger.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtrtpsuPb65vV5_8V4zJevXh5jof9-M_Pb5H5zV19MdCpA-UjOYkbtFKGzAdxjBqodMkB61xT0Usbl23XnMuwTC3C1uhMPWLG9U_e30CWm-J_Ai4sQR1e2kE57XiAE9AF3xKs5nldrMgb/s1600/stockphotopro_94926qrc_media_usbdisk_ima.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtrtpsuPb65vV5_8V4zJevXh5jof9-M_Pb5H5zV19MdCpA-UjOYkbtFKGzAdxjBqodMkB61xT0Usbl23XnMuwTC3C1uhMPWLG9U_e30CWm-J_Ai4sQR1e2kE57XiAE9AF3xKs5nldrMgb/s320/stockphotopro_94926qrc_media_usbdisk_ima.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm gonna hit you.....in a few....<strike>scared yet?</strike></td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
The reason this height of pathetic-ness tends to occur is because neither are particularly serious about fighting because they are scared of the sight of their own blood. The Desi Friend Finder will officiate these 'compros' by carefully interviewing the 'diaper gangsters' and find some obtuse relationships that will prevent all unwanted bloodshed. Facebook will come in handy too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fEd8eA1qNMEjqlm57fFRPJYKFhFgkoZdkh7AYvuzLT7r9YH0TJ4h8Uy-ll44mANvHZK9nWVC5cwgny35hskp6DglU-NSu80h_f4IdAJLLCnFcREnUdH4kkwdPFaXOZz66PuBs6EWxKPo/s1600/imasdfdges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fEd8eA1qNMEjqlm57fFRPJYKFhFgkoZdkh7AYvuzLT7r9YH0TJ4h8Uy-ll44mANvHZK9nWVC5cwgny35hskp6DglU-NSu80h_f4IdAJLLCnFcREnUdH4kkwdPFaXOZz66PuBs6EWxKPo/s1600/imasdfdges.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Gangsters</td></tr>
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I doubt that there is a parent on the planet that wouldn't pay the Desi Friend Finder his fees. After all, hospital bills are expensive.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDlU-2cGqgfUNWb5c94sW_avWBHfcQo4Oz3Dwq6qLpTz0xGqXsGCrD3PCCywVBz803A2YkHWhGUbGVGt0JJBynw1HDdAAYH-nLzPyxCaQfJmY9QV6UnzipuS35j7BOgWGStzzkmu4gqsA/s1600/desi+girls+frienfsdship+%252816%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDlU-2cGqgfUNWb5c94sW_avWBHfcQo4Oz3Dwq6qLpTz0xGqXsGCrD3PCCywVBz803A2YkHWhGUbGVGt0JJBynw1HDdAAYH-nLzPyxCaQfJmY9QV6UnzipuS35j7BOgWGStzzkmu4gqsA/s320/desi+girls+frienfsdship+%252816%2529.jpg" width="306" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haha, All the Boys Want to Save US!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Honor Warriors: All men like playing hero whether its rescuing a damsel in distress or well...rescuing and even prettier damsel in distress. The problem is that the opportune moment rarely arises, either because Pakistan isn't as lawless as your average 'gora'/foreigner is led to believe, or cutthroat scum of the halal earth thieves are just more polite around good looking women. This however, presents a significant problem, how can a guy save a girl from the dangers of the world and validate himself without the opportunity to do so?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFG-z3kpLGHC8cp4n7k2-aBqsMzhUp8aPyPb287tbCU7PIr0K3NMprPQiriiiFjp5Hy3Bpok_-eM_2FE716lZzZ7OC1-XTws3kuyPc26iPR4hUZD8SE2PO9ggjGgqiQBkXiTWmgT-kYst-/s1600/imagsdfes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFG-z3kpLGHC8cp4n7k2-aBqsMzhUp8aPyPb287tbCU7PIr0K3NMprPQiriiiFjp5Hy3Bpok_-eM_2FE716lZzZ7OC1-XTws3kuyPc26iPR4hUZD8SE2PO9ggjGgqiQBkXiTWmgT-kYst-/s1600/imagsdfes.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Honor Warriors</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fEd8eA1qNMEjqlm57fFRPJYKFhFgkoZdkh7AYvuzLT7r9YH0TJ4h8Uy-ll44mANvHZK9nWVC5cwgny35hskp6DglU-NSu80h_f4IdAJLLCnFcREnUdH4kkwdPFaXOZz66PuBs6EWxKPo/s1600/imasdfdges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Hence, the Honor Warriors, who swoop down on really...really really good looking girls, steal their purse or harass them, whilst a brave knight (who will be paying rather generously for this service based on a combination of his sexual frustration, access to porn and the attractiveness of the damsel in distress), will suddenly appear (capes will be provided for an extra fee), and fight off the packs of blood thirsty pillaging ruffians with his fists of fury and a good ol' Desi CHAMAAAAT.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZC_DN9J5ziKC9XaaxvVHAR3_n6KYxEgwDhJNnr5hOgEbsEnyjGV071vLF8W95_WC5-xHAkrTq47rAZLuaR5_uGCE83Q4pubdgd1KS0_gUxq2beRhI0T5USgu3oSlsapJw_1Cvu2ufMUg/s1600/a_damsel_in_distress2c219f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZC_DN9J5ziKC9XaaxvVHAR3_n6KYxEgwDhJNnr5hOgEbsEnyjGV071vLF8W95_WC5-xHAkrTq47rAZLuaR5_uGCE83Q4pubdgd1KS0_gUxq2beRhI0T5USgu3oSlsapJw_1Cvu2ufMUg/s320/a_damsel_in_distress2c219f.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who wouldn't help a naked-ish woman?</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
The Damsel, so grateful for her Savior's appearance (after all, a girl can't live without her cell phone), will fall madly in love with him and break into spontaneous dance to the tune of 'Desi Girl'. The couple then live happily ever after, and recount this Bollywood style story to their packs of Grandchildren.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRG3s96Ku1RyMWBbQDYszQNdY0oaBsn_NBpMFJFDSLuxkpPmkNkdhHspnfYr2KMONVmIRFD1kxVyu1oegUW8eqfS1ngbwC2j5miSli78CiK_LWkYaTyrH7_hu8wIOiW5Ogg6kkMUgf6Lj/s1600/desi+girls+friendship+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRG3s96Ku1RyMWBbQDYszQNdY0oaBsn_NBpMFJFDSLuxkpPmkNkdhHspnfYr2KMONVmIRFD1kxVyu1oegUW8eqfS1ngbwC2j5miSli78CiK_LWkYaTyrH7_hu8wIOiW5Ogg6kkMUgf6Lj/s320/desi+girls+friendship+%252813%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Honor Warriors: Fulfilling Every Woman's Romantic Dream; Making their Friends Jealous</td></tr>
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The Honor warriors will silently collect their fee and vanish into the night, their job done, their clients happy. Kind of like Super Heroes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFISKyLdNwtwRGOuMehN-Goec8apDPElGW65vry-fvOPfviC-e0N7Tt1LRLpmnyktfbcAlk9kP1LtSz6hnqVrF_2TOBuZ0Odv7gqVPaE_4TPe5xuHRI9dt7rzPDb2clzz5jC_eRPWDZU9h/s1600/2325906409_e7f4279890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFISKyLdNwtwRGOuMehN-Goec8apDPElGW65vry-fvOPfviC-e0N7Tt1LRLpmnyktfbcAlk9kP1LtSz6hnqVrF_2TOBuZ0Odv7gqVPaE_4TPe5xuHRI9dt7rzPDb2clzz5jC_eRPWDZU9h/s320/2325906409_e7f4279890.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do You Want like 7.5 Oranges?</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Solo Store: Ever notice how the beggars at traffic lights always sell the most useless gear, one wonders how many table cloths, Christmas Hats, Combs and Balloon Animals the average Pakistani really needs. One needs to sort them out and fill their hands with things like chewing gum, chips, candy, drinks, cell phone credit and cigarettes; things that people actually want and are willing to buy. They'd make alot more money and I wouldn't be stuck with owning so many combs and Christmas hats.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwwH-f9o0Ynqzth1c0P7GxAASu3EHcKfujWG6gf8L8Pq5LTFw-fFhyphenhyphen5OTPfqqu6iOyDz6gtDt99muNlOJAXStcVsZ5PSBCFssIKRgpCYZFzTHCzjoOM2hur9QItKHaW1Y1upL2jbUCZkO/s1600/imsdfsages.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFwwH-f9o0Ynqzth1c0P7GxAASu3EHcKfujWG6gf8L8Pq5LTFw-fFhyphenhyphen5OTPfqqu6iOyDz6gtDt99muNlOJAXStcVsZ5PSBCFssIKRgpCYZFzTHCzjoOM2hur9QItKHaW1Y1upL2jbUCZkO/s1600/imsdfsages.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you want to make a living, sell stuff that you won't have to take home every night!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Financing this wouldn't be all that expensive. Besides, wouldn't a company rather put someone to work and generate them some extra revenue as opposed to giving hand out after hand out? 'Charitable' donations are tax exempt......Yay Capitalism!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQ9Klp6EbCFhpg7PotXUsTCBhwGW12kSdf-Rq4gsxuzmQyB-F-rkCZh3w9LfLIawntoAgBySgRA3j3KiDd60sH2tbbzOVfJ0HRE_0J7krNpajlWZCj-Kg8mtkN-QijdSYfIPnRipvBryf/s1600/isdsmages.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFQ9Klp6EbCFhpg7PotXUsTCBhwGW12kSdf-Rq4gsxuzmQyB-F-rkCZh3w9LfLIawntoAgBySgRA3j3KiDd60sH2tbbzOVfJ0HRE_0J7krNpajlWZCj-Kg8mtkN-QijdSYfIPnRipvBryf/s1600/isdsmages.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paid to Read Qurans....SWEET!...Dental Plan?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
GotPrayer.com: Ever wish that someone was praying for you? Whether it's for an exam or a loved one (or even in the hopes that an object of your desire returns your affections), everyone wants something, and whats the harm in paying a few lads to read several hundred Qurans or recite multiple complex duas on one's behalf. Think of it as a good way for Madrassahs to be more of a profitable venture. Capitalism and Religion.....Who can say no to that? Call now: 1-800-Prayer for your spiritual, emotional and academic needs....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm57TY04KA-Vw-zgZGPZGtzH9Jd2xTv39gZqyN3GMadbbxT4t58Gl3pSDANJguEbFDuSq1CoOqsh4Uj-kan0Ji6841Sb_hQF1E6Y6dyDh74HiRovPHfM1hyG0LFajbGLONFE0vTnBuI3Dx/s1600/my_name_is_bruce-_13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm57TY04KA-Vw-zgZGPZGtzH9Jd2xTv39gZqyN3GMadbbxT4t58Gl3pSDANJguEbFDuSq1CoOqsh4Uj-kan0Ji6841Sb_hQF1E6Y6dyDh74HiRovPHfM1hyG0LFajbGLONFE0vTnBuI3Dx/s320/my_name_is_bruce-_13.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I bequeath you my Beard!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Professional Beard Growers: There are people who spend alot of time trying to prove how religious they are by the length of their beard, unfortunately, all are not born equal, therefore the Professional Beard Growers League to the rescue, where groups of men will commit to providing their natural talent of sprout copious amounts of face fuzz and sell them for a clean halal profit. Prices will depend on thickness, color and piety.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBH32C8BFCrvZYSKgQG1XLwR7b8ZcApOHVgiQXdETvfszD8HZbTFxssTEId7Nvg_bzjpUkHNCkkxiuUDS7DMzc9B4X2r0JvqG3lmX95DCLAhEC8K57HhQZ34BBqAcVogg0dtU6AhIX5RVE/s1600/bangkok-personaltrainerbeautifulbodies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBH32C8BFCrvZYSKgQG1XLwR7b8ZcApOHVgiQXdETvfszD8HZbTFxssTEId7Nvg_bzjpUkHNCkkxiuUDS7DMzc9B4X2r0JvqG3lmX95DCLAhEC8K57HhQZ34BBqAcVogg0dtU6AhIX5RVE/s1600/bangkok-personaltrainerbeautifulbodies.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get Fit.....Chase Her</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Personnel 'Fit Hai' Trainers: Most Pakistani's live a fairly sedimentary lifestyle, one's social life revolves around going to dinners and eating anything that can be easy deep fried in month old cooking oil.....fortunately month old cooking oil makes everything from a Mars Bar to anything resembling a vegetable rather tasty.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9KftTuhy3vC4oFcQaKNpwa7Lr0NjOo0b6xOkfT2suiRZ29dIJ93TX6Hsl0h94WnYrHx9dUio5T1dhvPZNFEivgyS5d_pYekswLe5P0FxDDD4xmclSp9lH491rn8r7CiPNDjqGGel-pF4/s1600/imasdfsdges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw9KftTuhy3vC4oFcQaKNpwa7Lr0NjOo0b6xOkfT2suiRZ29dIJ93TX6Hsl0h94WnYrHx9dUio5T1dhvPZNFEivgyS5d_pYekswLe5P0FxDDD4xmclSp9lH491rn8r7CiPNDjqGGel-pF4/s1600/imasdfsdges.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hey, wanna work out?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
To amp up the lifestyles of the Pear Shaped, a service of personnel 'Fit Hai' trainers will stalk and emotionally molest their clients into living a healthier lifestyle, whether its going to the gym, eating that salad for lunch or saying no to that 30th cup of hot sugar water laced with a sprinkling of Tea leaves <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mBr3KxqcTayAzQ8JlQly6_02pxtb5ZU3k9ve4T9HuFYIZHnJsf9tI7zUrD8MnCoZL6sQJE9b0mect4Xi9wgRm4oiEOfYrkWmpqgHahE6YDncLnm7dxFjqluLBxFaR3ciTRB0zPKrl9gg/s1600/imadsfges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0mBr3KxqcTayAzQ8JlQly6_02pxtb5ZU3k9ve4T9HuFYIZHnJsf9tI7zUrD8MnCoZL6sQJE9b0mect4Xi9wgRm4oiEOfYrkWmpqgHahE6YDncLnm7dxFjqluLBxFaR3ciTRB0zPKrl9gg/s1600/imadsfges.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's thinking "Don't Fart, Don't Fart!"<br />
He's Thinking "Hope She doesn't Fart!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
They'll motivate and emotionally batter their clients by comparing their clients deluxe lunchbox to how the food would feed their entire village....for a week. The Personal 'Fit Hai' Trainers will get you in shape, if not through exercise that well thought out malnourishment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnMOn2e7pIzKxVbEnkVRgRdQ50CiQbDMoyqhlJ8Ja1wq9349zAUMJi6_y4xgBDKV0Rc3gX8FX8LcMbMCdU2yTY-pB_ddaXXWcA-yg4_Wb43N2bnoqgQ5PtGnN0GP6WqsJrdo_L75FiyTI/s1600/abc_wedding1_080704_ssh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnMOn2e7pIzKxVbEnkVRgRdQ50CiQbDMoyqhlJ8Ja1wq9349zAUMJi6_y4xgBDKV0Rc3gX8FX8LcMbMCdU2yTY-pB_ddaXXWcA-yg4_Wb43N2bnoqgQ5PtGnN0GP6WqsJrdo_L75FiyTI/s320/abc_wedding1_080704_ssh.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hope they made sure they got the right chick!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Wedding Attenders: The sheer volumes of weddings during any given season is mind boggling. Particularly strange considering how rarely anyone knows the Bride and Groom in question. Its usually some distant relatives that one hasn't seen in decades. However, decorum dictates that some for of attendance is mandatory. Enter in the 'Wedding Attenders', a service that will enhance all wedding invitation loaded socialites lives in question. Very simply put, the Wedding Attenders will act as their clients representative at the wedding, and for additional fees, would even impersonate their clients.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhD8fYqwBxMHRMpBetLLMzMEa3NDK7xDWNhj32S6vxk18uVOCgyoGxcncPWq41XQB-0AX9sruu1uxig9-DC9LXexFzem60WtSRGTVF1GYuDCnjOgN5oVxR2hSXwtDSko9ASJundpGxWFQ/s1600/2006_12_24_hani_mahwish_1st_wedding_520x390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhD8fYqwBxMHRMpBetLLMzMEa3NDK7xDWNhj32S6vxk18uVOCgyoGxcncPWq41XQB-0AX9sruu1uxig9-DC9LXexFzem60WtSRGTVF1GYuDCnjOgN5oVxR2hSXwtDSko9ASJundpGxWFQ/s320/2006_12_24_hani_mahwish_1st_wedding_520x390.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wedding Attenders: Who the hell is going to remember who anyone is anyway?</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The service will be rather cost effective, with the food provided at the wedding being worked into the fees (why let all that good food go to waste?). In addition, start up costs for this enterprise would be minimal, a few good suits and garishly decorated Kurtas. In fact, both the men and women divisions of the 'Wedding Attenders' can share and recycle the Kurtas.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyN_99bPRh-CqWhco8oawPJ7Xa0IN3vLiLNQ9B-auoAJAFigay5b9tZwNSEkLnwm7dyrwvwOgGpTmdm4cSPEnrn6DqUpAMqt9blwNFgcuJPRwxPay-a_X2qrCBHzqJC-3Pa11Lu8br6Mm/s1600/fSunila-and-Samer-1498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRyN_99bPRh-CqWhco8oawPJ7Xa0IN3vLiLNQ9B-auoAJAFigay5b9tZwNSEkLnwm7dyrwvwOgGpTmdm4cSPEnrn6DqUpAMqt9blwNFgcuJPRwxPay-a_X2qrCBHzqJC-3Pa11Lu8br6Mm/s320/fSunila-and-Samer-1498.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't know who you are, but I'll still hug you" Wedding Syndrome</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="http://alphaza.blogspot.com/2010/03/islamic-chastity-belts-crazy-or-genius.html">Chastity Belts</a>: What law abiding proud parent wouldn't want to get a chastity belt for their daughter.....or son for that matter. have you seen kids nowadays? It'll come with a GPS tracking service for women (and men) of every size. Luxury models will be available in Gold, with a cushion finish....for comfort.... and to show off.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghq2zN2bL8j31xjv0vfiZanMPeC8mof6qNUXYAOzNIZIQGO2P90Que5arHr-11WkmnbMeAJevOFw2xP5uO42IxkUtUUKKyWTvBEwvWqGnUQq6GqNTkuwcEsC2PQl9ZhBQamcTyoF0a3Xod/s1600/iradevice_narrowweb__300x375%252C0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghq2zN2bL8j31xjv0vfiZanMPeC8mof6qNUXYAOzNIZIQGO2P90Que5arHr-11WkmnbMeAJevOFw2xP5uO42IxkUtUUKKyWTvBEwvWqGnUQq6GqNTkuwcEsC2PQl9ZhBQamcTyoF0a3Xod/s320/iradevice_narrowweb__300x375%252C0.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Its Classy Tight, but not Air Tight. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Entrepreneurs create business to service needs that aren't currently met by the local market. These in turn create meaningful employment and hence taxable revenue (which one can do their damnedest to avoid paying) In a country that has so much but gives so little, maybe it's time to give the business class the opportunity to develop Pakistan. It may be the only practical way for our country to stand on our own two feet, as oppose to crawling through the minefield we're currently nestled in.<br />
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A version of this piece was originally published on <a href="http://blog.dawn.com/2011/02/01/benefiting-from-capitalism-%e2%80%93-the-right-way/">Dawn.com </a></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com44tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-39633585456312627252011-01-22T23:29:00.000-08:002011-01-22T23:29:54.837-08:00KGS: Hello World! I am Grammarian Scum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXjhjFtOo3M5J72Vsr1SKRRRuLyr4ffeXUQ-q0YiqU4d9rn1uWqZ5czSkDkeB9G-JbN8fUQLw2UpeLcC5vWP_ohjzCF-oBAFcIAy7FdN45MFBnxI7YPeUTRUIbuk2DfkiK90RzR6U-CGW/s1600/45788364239924080.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGXjhjFtOo3M5J72Vsr1SKRRRuLyr4ffeXUQ-q0YiqU4d9rn1uWqZ5czSkDkeB9G-JbN8fUQLw2UpeLcC5vWP_ohjzCF-oBAFcIAy7FdN45MFBnxI7YPeUTRUIbuk2DfkiK90RzR6U-CGW/s1600/45788364239924080.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<b><i><span lang="EN-GB"></span></i></b><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal"><i><span lang="FR">nun <b>lucerna pedibus meis</b> verbum tuum et lumen semitis meis</span></i></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal">Thy word is a lantern unto my feet and a light unto my paths.</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;">-Jerome’s Latin Vulgate (405 AD)</span></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Ever so often, in both my professional and personal life I am pointedly reminded of one thing. Not that I am Desi, Shia Muslim, Wear Glasses or that I have a complete lack of rhythm, but that I am a Grammarian.; hence Elitist Ass Kicking Scum. Not that I particularly mind, being the recipient of the best educational institution in the country has its advantages. Chiefly that the uniform doesn't make one look like an idiot. White shirt with Grey Tussar trousers....and no emblem. The fact that its a kick ass school helps too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grammarians</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Karachi Grammar School has, as most educational institutions that one is forced to attend for a decade or so, has shaped my upbringing, my opportunities and even my friends. It's without competition, the best School in the country (sorry young pretenders, look on the bright side, second place is wide open). It's because of this privileged experience and subsequent exposure that I have often been lectured that a being a Grammarian, is a responsibility, a privilege and as cliched as it sounds, a burden. Much is given, much more is expected.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgd8Bp5LlH5o8L1D4Pq_BGnpsQ6wMh5m6T88RK7JKWKsC_mIbDjg-j7Sf0U6GrgbPQv6MveoHpvxxiJkZhahXwJ7J0AZWN4Ta2_vBbfjKAquovWxWdRjkbZqx27wotlXa9uVRE6pd8JIwh/s1600/1+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgd8Bp5LlH5o8L1D4Pq_BGnpsQ6wMh5m6T88RK7JKWKsC_mIbDjg-j7Sf0U6GrgbPQv6MveoHpvxxiJkZhahXwJ7J0AZWN4Ta2_vBbfjKAquovWxWdRjkbZqx27wotlXa9uVRE6pd8JIwh/s1600/1+%25285%2529.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I thrive in it, I love it and damn it, I'm proud of it. Yes, you read right. I, a decent man in my mid-twenties am still damn proud of where I went to High School. I'd staple the fact onto my head if it weren't for the fact that I'm so Grammarian that the minute I start talking, people assume it. On the rare occasions that I somewhat reluctantly mention (it's bad manners to brag) that I went to Karachi Grammar School, the audience eyes widen and an envious glint tends to exhibit itself in a rather disconcerting way. A quick self check tends to validate that my clothes are still on and I'm not dancing in a burlesque club (Thank God, I was not kidding about the sense of rhythm). It rather creepy when someone looks at you with that crazed 'are you an Alien' look. I get better treatment from the good folks at Homeland Security (USA). Atleast they are satisfied after the initial pat down. <br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GkDXw2kIIZH6cLpWY_z5xuw7wOKnMjdiCSl2v1pqIS655kY5Keau2X1CM4k8Dd3qKFj9FJi7Bu00c9RPFlkeposRF3Zg2HvPRfcG86o2JGhyphenhyphenXjtReVHw4l9gfG6kdInX1sVfjLOqKSgU/s1600/kgs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5GkDXw2kIIZH6cLpWY_z5xuw7wOKnMjdiCSl2v1pqIS655kY5Keau2X1CM4k8Dd3qKFj9FJi7Bu00c9RPFlkeposRF3Zg2HvPRfcG86o2JGhyphenhyphenXjtReVHw4l9gfG6kdInX1sVfjLOqKSgU/s320/kgs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Now since I'm a Grammarian, hence a minority, even though not quite an endangered species, I still contend that one ought to defend those rights and remove those popular misconceptions about my 'species'. Apparently Grammarians are a species, I'm guessing Elvin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm sure most Grammarian vs. Other School fights are sparked to life by an inherent curiosity if Grammarians bleed like the rest of Pakistan. We do. The blood is a Royal Purple though. Damn, we're so misunderstood. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Popular conceptions about Grammarians:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">1. We're Shallow Snobs; We think we're better than everyone else. Now, every school has it's crowd of Shallow Snobs, Grammar is no different, at least ours can make some modicum of sense. It's called, prestige with a healthy side order of 'I don't give a shit.' Super Size please?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S8CAyqUiwgTla-j3gzeRnaMQ_E6dbi3DN3otiLLi42NQDYq4lfDavsMKE2mF36x2j2O4M4G9EQLwwKeib8HYJWkVAYvH141GUqs3uZQXhNs4s8bDkissTPWlXBkLM2RrJ7j-vtaT6Urt/s1600/Benazir_Bhutto%253B_Party_throwing_student%253B_Prime_Minister_468x524.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S8CAyqUiwgTla-j3gzeRnaMQ_E6dbi3DN3otiLLi42NQDYq4lfDavsMKE2mF36x2j2O4M4G9EQLwwKeib8HYJWkVAYvH141GUqs3uZQXhNs4s8bDkissTPWlXBkLM2RrJ7j-vtaT6Urt/s320/Benazir_Bhutto%253B_Party_throwing_student%253B_Prime_Minister_468x524.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Benazir Bhutto: Grammarian Alumni</td></tr>
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a serious note, when everyone treats you like you're the direct progeny of Albert Einstein, you're bound to develop some airs. After a point, you tend to be drawn to people who go through that same experience. It's tough, particularly when you're not even old enough to drive (legally, or reach the gas pedal for that matter). Its not snobbery, it's just human, we are drawn to others with a similarity of habits. Saddam Hussein and Attila the Hun would have also gotten along famously....if they both were smart enough to get into Grammar School. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnT4soVIFXCLWJ4d1tBx5IgBfrX_yIUNMgXXCVqsXjv2GmgI02zHOmdRe-BZFiLS8KWItVLKRD4-p3381kATKjkO1t_tx4_2QIfcUsqxWP86aOUH2fQE_d1zdnN5Ot3w31eIwnf4v0wxh/s1600/kgsback.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnT4soVIFXCLWJ4d1tBx5IgBfrX_yIUNMgXXCVqsXjv2GmgI02zHOmdRe-BZFiLS8KWItVLKRD4-p3381kATKjkO1t_tx4_2QIfcUsqxWP86aOUH2fQE_d1zdnN5Ot3w31eIwnf4v0wxh/s320/kgsback.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">2. Weak Food Processing Durability: We get sick from an old fashioned street <i>bun kebab</i>. Weak stomachs and all that, the addiction to mineral water aside, yes we do tend to consume hygienic food, it's certainly a massive cause for shame. We'll just wallow in misery as our life expectancy outlast the rest of the population. Though in some circles one could contend that we're simply averaging the life expectancy up. True Patriots! Take that World Health Statistics!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_grJ-irgC-8pB_HgeAKXh_Wzi8jOABxjhyphenhyphenNQdt8t80CvbKufqu4x6b2dkDXHfoGBrvhjoqgOV1O5GkG3XGZ6ilStBq2Ubbg3KrnRjYowNLZ9rdqBoHD6usHdRSIHwlmKsKRd49e7-y9_/s1600/KGS_JS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_grJ-irgC-8pB_HgeAKXh_Wzi8jOABxjhyphenhyphenNQdt8t80CvbKufqu4x6b2dkDXHfoGBrvhjoqgOV1O5GkG3XGZ6ilStBq2Ubbg3KrnRjYowNLZ9rdqBoHD6usHdRSIHwlmKsKRd49e7-y9_/s320/KGS_JS.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">3. We can't speak Urdu: Largely True, mine sucks, and as much it must pain me to admit, my Urdu speaking scale generally reflect the average Grammarian level. I know for a fact that my version of Urdu adds countless thousands of rupees to my net spending. Thankfully, by being a Grammarian, I tend to earn countless thousands of rupees more.....my personal conclusion being .....So freaking what? Pump up the Economy me and my peeps do. On a side note, our Urdu isn't as bad as most people think, if you don't believe me, check out the number of A's we score in our O'Levels. It's totally Mash'allah. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">4. We have accents: I never quite understood this one. Just because we (by in large) don't speak with a <i>desi</i> <i>jhutt </i>(slang) to all of our pronunciations, speaks volumes of our ability to enunciate. Sue me, we prefer pronouncing words correctly. As God, the Queen of England and my 8th Grade English Language Teacher Mrs. Tahir (who despite describing most of my behavior in words like Audacity and Temerity actually quite liked me) intended. Personally I rather blame all of the other language teachers in Pakistan, they obviously didn't grow up with the luxury of watching copious amounts of Mind Your Language, Yes Minister and Hugh Grant. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">5. We all take Tuition Classes: Apparently being academic superstars isn't quite as impressive if you are getting extra help outside school. However, I'd like to point out that so does everyone else, we're quite the academic trendsetters. Next up, Grammarians will become fantastic alcoholics....oops, we've already got that reputation signed sealed and delivered. I wonder if parents blame Grammarians for extensively liberalizing their Wannabe Grammarian kids.....</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxonT39XNBoTwe2Tri6RZV629ivxG7nojuCs7bIaICCJDEykJFA37uqebTP8OGBrx8SopG_vzzs2iYFpZ6whHtKVo9t460SFH4hIRaWZ9Wfx93-MQ_tiudz9U3wS9Erd7N-plQs9ETaaxp/s1600/LD5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxonT39XNBoTwe2Tri6RZV629ivxG7nojuCs7bIaICCJDEykJFA37uqebTP8OGBrx8SopG_vzzs2iYFpZ6whHtKVo9t460SFH4hIRaWZ9Wfx93-MQ_tiudz9U3wS9Erd7N-plQs9ETaaxp/s320/LD5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're also that Elitist Save the World Cretins Too!</td></tr>
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</a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Working harder and putting that extra academic effort also tends to explains why KGS students do better than most other schools. It's not rocket science. We have 6 hours of regular school in a day and on average another 4 hours of tuition....plus homework. So, it's not that we're just overtly smarter (which we would humbly admit that we are), we've also developed this mildly useful thing called work ethic. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">6. We're all super smart: It is no secret that Karachi Grammar School is the most competitive school to gain admission into in Pakistan. On admission form collection days, parents tend to outnumber the entire student body. We call it, we only want the best of the best syndrome. Choosy lot we are. That is unless you have some political birth right, odds are that you need substantial levels of brain power to be accepted. Admittedly, we tend to discriminate on ability, it's called a meritocracy. After all, you can't fix stupid. Inequality is soooooo unfair. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_yUY4Fwv9riEKTxJ8QpwvnlBxBd0ooF61thWaWV1OyDluh6A-DVRe2eeUjlmqQNPfe9n0XfgIRm_CZlrZftu6IkQ7MMMqMnPBdgZcTCjcgKuw6ou891vMq1kks2JQd7QMoSZXXyUfBHZ/s1600/World-Record-19-student-in-small-car-Hassaan-Khan-express1-640x480+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_yUY4Fwv9riEKTxJ8QpwvnlBxBd0ooF61thWaWV1OyDluh6A-DVRe2eeUjlmqQNPfe9n0XfgIRm_CZlrZftu6IkQ7MMMqMnPBdgZcTCjcgKuw6ou891vMq1kks2JQd7QMoSZXXyUfBHZ/s320/World-Record-19-student-in-small-car-Hassaan-Khan-express1-640x480+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How many Grammarian girls can you fit into a car?....A World Record Number Infact</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">7. Grammarians are Westernized: We are just as proud of being Pakistani as anyone else, and believe or not we have alot more to lose if Pakistan doesn't emerge from it's perpetual crisis state than most other people. A fair proportion of Grammarians do leave Pakistan to pursue a future elsewhere, but most do make their homes here in Pakistan. True some of us may pick up western habits like fancy new designer clothes or a penchant for civilized behavior, but hey, a few chai's at Cafe Clifton, Dinners at BBQ tonight and the odd trip to Sunday Bazaar solves that. I personally recommend a healthy addiction to Slice Mango Juice, Apple Sidra and Pakola Lime. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHblhfPRiICSZp_zAqnN4eb3EvEV4DONThyphenhyphenHVdhdiplqRpdexqXdumUQOogOBbZl4onx2u9fb6t_i6sdDiXXZkjua3e4xRTW8Z1hOy2E6ytFCEMLMJ0D9-ydL6zEIkOV99qPuxB6Z06mO/s1600/Pakistaniwedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHblhfPRiICSZp_zAqnN4eb3EvEV4DONThyphenhyphenHVdhdiplqRpdexqXdumUQOogOBbZl4onx2u9fb6t_i6sdDiXXZkjua3e4xRTW8Z1hOy2E6ytFCEMLMJ0D9-ydL6zEIkOV99qPuxB6Z06mO/s1600/Pakistaniwedding.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">8. We're All Rich: Contrary to the lines of cars one sees outside the Grammar campuses in Saddar and Boat Basin, the student body of KGS is actually fairly diverse along both socio economic and religious lines. In terms of fees the school is actually the cheapest amongst it's peers (haha, that's assuming we even had peers, which we don't). On top of the lower fees, there are also numerous scholarships for students that are based solely on merit. We take the brilliant and make them even better. That's our modus operandi, if the perception exists that all Grammarians are rich, it's because the student body that emerges excels in every field it meanders into....and that usually result in a pretty substantive payoff. That's a testament to the dogged Grammarian spirit and the reputation of the educational institution. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilwwwQWzEkJaOA-aKaddEcCHN8owuITDmW_NaXP4WaOUSkuBcDXOvtyKW9IpjYjm1icUZVRPcs6H6Dssrob3jiVq8h0grSCjdZVmL7n8FzDBChvhfmuy-hK0MANJtNhkGuB853OHCqC2uy/s1600/imasdfsges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilwwwQWzEkJaOA-aKaddEcCHN8owuITDmW_NaXP4WaOUSkuBcDXOvtyKW9IpjYjm1icUZVRPcs6H6Dssrob3jiVq8h0grSCjdZVmL7n8FzDBChvhfmuy-hK0MANJtNhkGuB853OHCqC2uy/s1600/imasdfsges.jpeg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">9. We have the best looking girls: Yes. Guilty as charged. It's the reason that every male child works so damn hard to get into KGS. It's all about the Chicitas. Pity the ladies tend to be of the smart variety. Tip: Learn some sappy sonnets. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">10. We have an unfair advantage in Life. Yep, we do. That's what we get for being Awesome. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3b7fNnwsiE014JWLj_pOrexTst3gIcs8lhVJ2IdPPRQN_SsGY0zSIaasgXFgpQG8hUjauyf3lk-HSLK2C78XIPnNcdUhL95VkdndBnDuBTOlZ-oYl1o4QH5b4HzJilphPc0J1xY0t0yWD/s1600/kofi-annan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3b7fNnwsiE014JWLj_pOrexTst3gIcs8lhVJ2IdPPRQN_SsGY0zSIaasgXFgpQG8hUjauyf3lk-HSLK2C78XIPnNcdUhL95VkdndBnDuBTOlZ-oYl1o4QH5b4HzJilphPc0J1xY0t0yWD/s1600/kofi-annan.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kofi Annan: Grammarian Alumni</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Contrary to popular opinion, no one is born a Grammarian, they earn it, through perseverance, excellence, and a dash of style. All satire aside, you make your own place in the world, being a Grammarian and learning the lessons the institution has to offer just gives you a stronger starting point. The rest is up to your personal drive, ambition and character. We're just lucky that we tend to attract those who have it in abundance. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Let the Grammarian Hating Begin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">For more information on Karachi Grammar School: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;">http://www.kgs.edu.pk/Default.aspx </div><div style="text-align: justify;">http://www.ogs.com.pk/</div><div style="text-align: justify;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karachi_Grammar_School</div></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com107tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-59724424170621871152010-12-08T08:04:00.000-08:002010-12-08T08:07:25.755-08:00Pakistani Dating Etiquette: Desi Dating Pitfall Navigation<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUv-1K-0mZn4NsUqJbXPuPrLg6RY2B9eRAPjLER-AyV9BvPRTrq1M7A4ky3Zb8q4uMaEfu4AG-ffMfOur7gMk89TgmISv9GPnjqjbuwVse1udnYlMQ0HYV2u_yg398NtcZr017PJfAVUD/s1600/visual.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaUv-1K-0mZn4NsUqJbXPuPrLg6RY2B9eRAPjLER-AyV9BvPRTrq1M7A4ky3Zb8q4uMaEfu4AG-ffMfOur7gMk89TgmISv9GPnjqjbuwVse1udnYlMQ0HYV2u_yg398NtcZr017PJfAVUD/s400/visual.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Because Happily Ever After Requires Some Trial & Error.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Dating in Pakistan is a complex game, full of intelligence, politics, lineage evaluation, secretive sub-plots, counter intelligence and a healthy dose of 'if my Daugther isn't back by Isha, God will rain Drone bombs down your backside', </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYp9HA6haDq4_Gy5dDeKLD_DtNNImpNtM11Tlmvj6yRmXoI7xuk1OA4EnA9W80btQAvGL5b2kTH4LVu6B60ziw9vyzYMd4rLgrUnGPcBVITIqaKtP03Cq402CbRO0cMYzYy_kvRlkVrQi/s1600/_42646257_pakistan_afp416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSYp9HA6haDq4_Gy5dDeKLD_DtNNImpNtM11Tlmvj6yRmXoI7xuk1OA4EnA9W80btQAvGL5b2kTH4LVu6B60ziw9vyzYMd4rLgrUnGPcBVITIqaKtP03Cq402CbRO0cMYzYy_kvRlkVrQi/s320/_42646257_pakistan_afp416.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pakistani Patriarchs Have the Arsenal to Prove It.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">........with the added caveat that if God did rain hell fire, that the lady in question would be somehow not be incinerated..... but one can assume that Daddy believes that the drones are supernaturally accurate and doesn't expect the distance between the two to enroach ten solid halal shrapnel reaching feet. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyJ3Lu57S-pV_0w7lHpzLVcryzN9Phyys6i0qAeZ-hyP8NjLG69Dlh6BLH9Bru5MIwmmm8a0v5PzLn0G9BUGVzCkjsaqc2JYK8qmWs88DEtQCv_gfV58PPL0iq2wAF0BzNRT_2oU4yuKZ/s1600/3byg8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyJ3Lu57S-pV_0w7lHpzLVcryzN9Phyys6i0qAeZ-hyP8NjLG69Dlh6BLH9Bru5MIwmmm8a0v5PzLn0G9BUGVzCkjsaqc2JYK8qmWs88DEtQCv_gfV58PPL0iq2wAF0BzNRT_2oU4yuKZ/s320/3byg8.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See, He Likes Me! Look How Much Credit He Loaded on My Phone!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Phone Privileges: You are mandated by all desi dating laws to give your date loads of credit upon request; nothing says I'm not superficial or a gold digger than daily requests for more credit. The cellular industry is certainly a boon in this matter. Yay to cheap packages and multiple sims, It's certainly fun (and yet increasingly economical) to be young. On the bright side, a lad knows he's parlayed himself into a serious relationship when his lady tormentor asks for a new phone on which she will only talk to you.....it's certainly pesky sharing her phone with other guys. score.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLBAo-IK7oj744WULB5eEO1UiI7qU3MVlJGB0FRE8CpLSYJpPJqTVGs51LkLH_3AiBTrRLbxvAh_pTr0LoC42C8tEI8LnUOXtiHzPQzTQKpDBtma2MXQhu1bmjKjZgnet2Bf4nIdQ0yx-/s1600/Glow-DIN-Raat.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLBAo-IK7oj744WULB5eEO1UiI7qU3MVlJGB0FRE8CpLSYJpPJqTVGs51LkLH_3AiBTrRLbxvAh_pTr0LoC42C8tEI8LnUOXtiHzPQzTQKpDBtma2MXQhu1bmjKjZgnet2Bf4nIdQ0yx-/s320/Glow-DIN-Raat.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cheap Phone Calls just got Cheaper.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tip: As soon as she calls, put the phone on loudspeader and occasionally say the words 'uhuh', 'wow', 'that's crazy' ever so often. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AyP_PRzjaWSuvQvr3ZdQMxUPosoKqbPZTY_Kgv0jwd2reWbC_t3oZfm7y8-A6vjRWdCFJ-MThO4-e0jRnlxTpIF0fyECZdHZys7h0JuwJ1kPuc69Jm3m54rt7tFKrTf7NlSRUk0N1Cgz/s1600/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AyP_PRzjaWSuvQvr3ZdQMxUPosoKqbPZTY_Kgv0jwd2reWbC_t3oZfm7y8-A6vjRWdCFJ-MThO4-e0jRnlxTpIF0fyECZdHZys7h0JuwJ1kPuc69Jm3m54rt7tFKrTf7NlSRUk0N1Cgz/s320/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dude out on a Date with his Girlfriend, Her Bhaabi, Her Mother Etc</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Getting used to chaperons. Many are under the ludicrous notion, that when they go on a date with a Pakistani girl, that it'll just be the two of them. Such hilarious concept could crack the scowl off a grinch. Girls typically shy away from solo dates, you'll often be enriched with ladies bringing their trusted sister, gaggle of shopping buddies and the occasional 'acha he's like my brother' dude who has secretly been pining for the lady in question and has a long term strategy that entails waiting for someone to break her heart so he can gallantly step in and play hero. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUAzucVXl3yaxpa8wV9ceeeq49AbUjig6M8UQz08YYcbKqxnMMIpBKWpsAuq20lkqaD7PTG6wsFB8Rj8KT3Rhn8LtBYKjS1gGjZqcZpmDCqZu_6mc0ZzhJUX2Q0rzsRhcxNU24v0v-pKt/s1600/ATgAAAA_DDJZ7PPP9P0M5sxizCiR7547t8d4nByMMqx4PJSPWs0D57KtYLEbd3ISEYlH9vfwaAZN2L5ynY2nTD0EsiXrAJtU9VBYDPAI41xJFMuEhoWEBEi-L9YmlA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUAzucVXl3yaxpa8wV9ceeeq49AbUjig6M8UQz08YYcbKqxnMMIpBKWpsAuq20lkqaD7PTG6wsFB8Rj8KT3Rhn8LtBYKjS1gGjZqcZpmDCqZu_6mc0ZzhJUX2Q0rzsRhcxNU24v0v-pKt/s320/ATgAAAA_DDJZ7PPP9P0M5sxizCiR7547t8d4nByMMqx4PJSPWs0D57KtYLEbd3ISEYlH9vfwaAZN2L5ynY2nTD0EsiXrAJtU9VBYDPAI41xJFMuEhoWEBEi-L9YmlA.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guess which Poor Schmuck is Sponsoring this 'Date'</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tip: Don't worry, eventually, in between picking and dropping the lady in question, you may be able to squeeze in a few intimate moments while she scans the neighboring cars for people who might have recognized her. If it makes you feel any better, it's not that she's ashamed of you, she's just petrified she might be seen with you. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcY8d6VyfkuoAda1kRTjFai_EiKPbAzB5A2DNq2EpA9F9JPwKy-q3AVTS8msoh3I-f6DJVqFBm7TLkQ0qJ09jmHDDpbwVFRLoaSkE4Ku6CbgcB9WFNkoPzYr27sJBCLtZEYfpQgyW6-QW/s1600/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcY8d6VyfkuoAda1kRTjFai_EiKPbAzB5A2DNq2EpA9F9JPwKy-q3AVTS8msoh3I-f6DJVqFBm7TLkQ0qJ09jmHDDpbwVFRLoaSkE4Ku6CbgcB9WFNkoPzYr27sJBCLtZEYfpQgyW6-QW/s1600/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TELL ME I"M PRETTY!!!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Emotional nutcase: Women are emotionally imbalanced even in the best of circumstances, whilst men suffer from senstivity deficiencies (which we are rather proud off), a Pakistani girl by agreeing to go on a date with you, has essentially made you a sign a contract enumerating the ways she can drive you crazy with her mood swings, peculiarities, insecurities and general lack of sanity.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcixdMVJcVm8HZ6PIUa6sJ_mvvutiS16Pjulg8avddP9ENizh-bIAMckqbb44LdnDirj3G-QYO-8AZLY-sIURm-A-LNqY-cdXYJa8Y3CEZTWFb9lfCzQEOXpjcWhYQgHBWzWqExlWDy8fS/s1600/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcixdMVJcVm8HZ6PIUa6sJ_mvvutiS16Pjulg8avddP9ENizh-bIAMckqbb44LdnDirj3G-QYO-8AZLY-sIURm-A-LNqY-cdXYJa8Y3CEZTWFb9lfCzQEOXpjcWhYQgHBWzWqExlWDy8fS/s1600/Miss+Pakistan+marriage+and+party+with+friends3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone Thinks I look like a Model! What Do You Think?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tips: Find a doctor willing to medicate you. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0tiGHsYWCYYtbAMGxMsbzQYdA-I4qduUfF2IVQvONTCWMm0lejv1pKXX-jNFhtC9ZivX7R99FqO1eLoS-taOG5EBxMkAFgLj2Vs8wqe7IXtM50GrdjtPb0MvKb8EUadyZ_KYQSXlF8tN/s1600/jbj3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr0tiGHsYWCYYtbAMGxMsbzQYdA-I4qduUfF2IVQvONTCWMm0lejv1pKXX-jNFhtC9ZivX7R99FqO1eLoS-taOG5EBxMkAFgLj2Vs8wqe7IXtM50GrdjtPb0MvKb8EUadyZ_KYQSXlF8tN/s320/jbj3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only a Woman With Too Much Money Would Buy These Clothes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Shopping adventures. One woman's heaven is another man's hell. Particularly as the shop keeper decides to set prices according to the level of bulge in the lucky male escort's....pocket, you know, the one with his wallet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8krXeG6WqQ_UGa4dKGTBcVMkeuT1-wOlOOaW7PyTSEUc_vFpzr2uXVNml5Bhes70zisis9M4d-wz02VNE5tz1w3dx-MjPTSb06L2R9T3yNHSQxPAWBJuF3zyY_3o_GfjcLwh0p4VXo73M/s1600/Natasha+Khan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8krXeG6WqQ_UGa4dKGTBcVMkeuT1-wOlOOaW7PyTSEUc_vFpzr2uXVNml5Bhes70zisis9M4d-wz02VNE5tz1w3dx-MjPTSb06L2R9T3yNHSQxPAWBJuF3zyY_3o_GfjcLwh0p4VXo73M/s320/Natasha+Khan.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If You Don't Buy It For Me, I'll CRY!!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tips: Pretend to get ill and suffer through the experience. Pray repeatedly to the deity of choice for as low impact on your financial position as humanly possible. Avoid expensive places. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFw1uddowbXbqwn05vnKb6Vfp7jDbOOv3EqyN7WiT2RB3zLLZORRT2yqB-RfIkKJm_iGWFnHpjyQyR91ydudDAznD3cHAOzVmeHsQ_H6G0lsDdyDwPoP844LRQKvAEYa2SDvmDc-pRRL3h/s1600/shilpashettyrajkundra1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFw1uddowbXbqwn05vnKb6Vfp7jDbOOv3EqyN7WiT2RB3zLLZORRT2yqB-RfIkKJm_iGWFnHpjyQyR91ydudDAznD3cHAOzVmeHsQ_H6G0lsDdyDwPoP844LRQKvAEYa2SDvmDc-pRRL3h/s320/shilpashettyrajkundra1.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Talk All The Time, Mostly About How Great She Is</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Conversation: Developing a strong verbal communication is extraordinarily important....to the woman. For a guy, his duty is to act as Chief Listening Officer. If a boy is lucky enough to get a word in edgewise, it is always a good ploy to pay as many sincere (and insincere) compliments as possible without sounding flamboyantly gay and secondly . Etiquette dictates that it is always polite to let the lady in question speak, (preferably till she chokes from lack of breath). In the probable advent the blabbering puts you in a coma, it is useful skill to nod off to sleep whilst keeping your eyes open. Dark Shades indoors also prove to be effective.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiHR0qvIVrpsgeyBZwzZBibkJQ2QBLEvE5E5b9bNuhzdp4CiydrcNg5BNTcNYTAD-0JlC3BAJd5RxlzzMRJzOGZ_KmTorXFhpa2xPQmcDl3gtpn8BKEs2MMzsma5r9SEGLXetUrwDJ3Sr/s1600/imddages.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmiHR0qvIVrpsgeyBZwzZBibkJQ2QBLEvE5E5b9bNuhzdp4CiydrcNg5BNTcNYTAD-0JlC3BAJd5RxlzzMRJzOGZ_KmTorXFhpa2xPQmcDl3gtpn8BKEs2MMzsma5r9SEGLXetUrwDJ3Sr/s1600/imddages.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Girl's Best Friends: Also Known As Her Best Enemies</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tip: If you'd like to test whether or not she actually likes you, lean back. If she leans forward to reduce the gap, that would indicate that she likes you....that said, maybe she's thoughtful and doesn't want you to miss a single tantalizing word. If she decides to increase her decibel level, you can safely assume that you are being used.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzIBHdDPVNwCbv4fmwYkNBhSAeeTf13U9_HjCwKRgcjQLJ9sGccIOiuXSi1mEY1YguRkxy4xY4Ok1RNDcVcRPrXmVAJr4z0VES3lg5T9fzwxukBDQbqI5DJJPR9xXt9K6xe6GyGX9NSEm/s1600/imasfdsfdsges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuzIBHdDPVNwCbv4fmwYkNBhSAeeTf13U9_HjCwKRgcjQLJ9sGccIOiuXSi1mEY1YguRkxy4xY4Ok1RNDcVcRPrXmVAJr4z0VES3lg5T9fzwxukBDQbqI5DJJPR9xXt9K6xe6GyGX9NSEm/s1600/imasfdsfdsges.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YOU WANT TO DATE MY DAUGHTER YOU &%$%#%!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The Parents: No Pakistani man would like anything better than to avoid meeting his dates parents. Even the 'liberal' variety would like nothing better to relieve the gentlemen callers head from the shoulders via a blunt spoon. However, if a man is placed in such hardship, he is advised to always be polite, act scared (which isn't likely to be difficult) and project ample amounts of 'I'm Still in the Closet'.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4zm804jgbPdWGX_kDN1GHETRT_Kkerkp-TrHpVPFA-y8qw39e1dz6ARRGG3wjSksxEU_iBrYV5wWnTNhLfuJNQ4YSCbDuUW4RMHXQYu1ovP6fwp9O4gSoho-tKndeiqT3o75LvwPnAqB/s1600/imasfsdfsdfsges.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4zm804jgbPdWGX_kDN1GHETRT_Kkerkp-TrHpVPFA-y8qw39e1dz6ARRGG3wjSksxEU_iBrYV5wWnTNhLfuJNQ4YSCbDuUW4RMHXQYu1ovP6fwp9O4gSoho-tKndeiqT3o75LvwPnAqB/s1600/imasfsdfsdfsges.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Female Terminator Style Body Guards</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tip: Avoid at all costs, but look very serious as the array of threats are being delivered. It doesn't hurt to scope the area for any items that may be classified as weapons. Yardstick: If Jason Bourne can kill you with it, then step away from it. Forget your fancy gelled up hair do, the leather pants, and super tight sequined shirt, wear the most boring respectable clothes you own. If you can pull off a tie with it, all the better. Mimic the mannerism of your date's father, it'll make him feel comfortable that you have so much in common.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSNyvvjRrYkAlAouZD9RLecCO50TUFFYYgXvdPhPx8DSkYWSjwOBSHR-HOdYnP9DmnyZqcClEnyT48Kbkqyr4090cTAWEZN-F-VbesIWn6Lhmaj7aiThfB9AIIMES1ffI72hyIyJoDXUs/s1600/20081119_043travel_w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSNyvvjRrYkAlAouZD9RLecCO50TUFFYYgXvdPhPx8DSkYWSjwOBSHR-HOdYnP9DmnyZqcClEnyT48Kbkqyr4090cTAWEZN-F-VbesIWn6Lhmaj7aiThfB9AIIMES1ffI72hyIyJoDXUs/s320/20081119_043travel_w.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If a Boy Walks into my House, I'll Kill Him.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The Outing: Odd's are that you'll be taking your date to a Dinner. It's practical, you get to talk (in the man's case listen) and you can reasonable assured that if you give the restauarant a french enough sounding name, your date (and her entourage) will dress up like they are appearing on the nearest catwalk. As you'll likely be catering a rather larger group than you expected, it's preferable to bring along your old posse Monsieurs 'Visa' and Master Card'. Trust me, their help will be needed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgza8JTWQ4iwPiAgSRo-h3NyHwDjvfCxLyohoz14u3lxnuOebgMAMgmcXjrDUaZ7Qg6PCcEYDcJwZBZwhOvD12tQly3SJur_wPxOZjwmxJ8n2ehry2B7p_S93k1uwc6YRhtrNy7Q7K4oVr/s1600/Pakistan_Dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgza8JTWQ4iwPiAgSRo-h3NyHwDjvfCxLyohoz14u3lxnuOebgMAMgmcXjrDUaZ7Qg6PCcEYDcJwZBZwhOvD12tQly3SJur_wPxOZjwmxJ8n2ehry2B7p_S93k1uwc6YRhtrNy7Q7K4oVr/s320/Pakistan_Dinner.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why You'll Need Friends Like Visa & Mastercard</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Tip: Develop mysterious allergies during the appetizer phase of the meal, and relocate to a more economical option. You'll save on your dinning expenses and gain a sympathy vote from your lady friend.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4PMEUXbVfRgJSVYxNlegVs-YFdD1OHS_TrVcXKuMVcmlkIiVcB6TDxq2G2BeMNbSx0vQlwGa6hMTxAk6AowMj0zJtRRn6WgD1XJpoeKOBd5SsACTFjgh29QEtlgSLXoLq63eZMZoUajW/s1600/arab-singles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE4PMEUXbVfRgJSVYxNlegVs-YFdD1OHS_TrVcXKuMVcmlkIiVcB6TDxq2G2BeMNbSx0vQlwGa6hMTxAk6AowMj0zJtRRn6WgD1XJpoeKOBd5SsACTFjgh29QEtlgSLXoLq63eZMZoUajW/s1600/arab-singles.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You Look So Beautiful, I Wouldn't Want to Ruin that by Giving you a Steak....</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Dating in Pakistan is a minefield, however if you are one brave enough to navigate it, it's always best to be prepared and bring a minesweeper along.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7S0_ApTMhJ7TzWyuO3g21aE533QPncGBjYo7OXMUvKBqrdIJ_tR7qLgQfbCnJYN3rxjABV-h1xO8Fc1dRvB8Sq4DUygg9OxZuCUlv11HI9Bclhhdfzltdh4YsQ_gQqp_cPt76QpqvAxx3/s1600/success_stories_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7S0_ApTMhJ7TzWyuO3g21aE533QPncGBjYo7OXMUvKBqrdIJ_tR7qLgQfbCnJYN3rxjABV-h1xO8Fc1dRvB8Sq4DUygg9OxZuCUlv11HI9Bclhhdfzltdh4YsQ_gQqp_cPt76QpqvAxx3/s320/success_stories_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Or Just Kill Yourself Right Now.....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com96tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-44741754544442745572010-11-26T04:46:00.000-08:002010-11-26T04:46:35.193-08:00Shopping: One Woman's Pleasure Is Another Man's Hell<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPSxpEKFMHBrhc9UqtxJ3IrnU0WVHcOWNJWM9ql5qLnwLXfr3LF58gRRnuVYNkBJv653W3cVRL4x1owc677NDBBYeycdXjwuK6wj2zN7eObWJZWVHoVYmhqurXOD6vGmyxWGS5jvGH8aC/s1600/212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPSxpEKFMHBrhc9UqtxJ3IrnU0WVHcOWNJWM9ql5qLnwLXfr3LF58gRRnuVYNkBJv653W3cVRL4x1owc677NDBBYeycdXjwuK6wj2zN7eObWJZWVHoVYmhqurXOD6vGmyxWGS5jvGH8aC/s400/212.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">SHOP PHOBIA: All Men Have It!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">I hate shopping. I hate the process. Electronics are cool, but when it comes to clothes and boring appliances, men and women have very different ideologies. The truth is that Men and women shop in very different manners. For starters women actually enjoy shopping, men on the other hand, find shopping to be enjoyable as a chain saw swinging dentist appointment...with the dentist in question being blind; Simply put, men will keep rescheduling for as long as feasibly possible.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgReB1rmW9SKQtweTFav9sDKTJvAu9WDDFpG5UMwIdu2nDLG_Jt841OFUnp_hH7Xcmo5DbHiPmpU2oy3RFVe7t2fK-vV2GBoFN7jvA9DBGRx9gtypzl4CMymw4Be6kcn0vYfqNE9dVzNF5/s1600/imddsfsdages.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgReB1rmW9SKQtweTFav9sDKTJvAu9WDDFpG5UMwIdu2nDLG_Jt841OFUnp_hH7Xcmo5DbHiPmpU2oy3RFVe7t2fK-vV2GBoFN7jvA9DBGRx9gtypzl4CMymw4Be6kcn0vYfqNE9dVzNF5/s1600/imddsfsdages.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For The Gals who Rather not go through Child Birth</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Men require an iron clad reason to shop, usually when their female loved ones reallocate their wardrobe to the trash bin. Women shop on an impulse, albeit of the planned 'lets spend all day at the local stores just looking around' variety or the, I need new clothes because everyone has seen my wardrobe disorder, coupled with an infection of month old, twice worn clothes. Whenever possible, men are perfectly happy to let their female loved ones shop for them.We know you enjoy it, and you know we hate it. </div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvhkutj7q5YEjAJoYfwS2USy2YnpitUDou86OOa5vgZdkUTCA0jue_aX2mXtVNpGIfqTgqt8w5YWj0_HrGWSdwLt4YPGk7kZXMaEq82EJy_JmK6ChmFFvupZieaFUGyVeyqxt_65WzvoD/s1600/500x_ap10082314784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvhkutj7q5YEjAJoYfwS2USy2YnpitUDou86OOa5vgZdkUTCA0jue_aX2mXtVNpGIfqTgqt8w5YWj0_HrGWSdwLt4YPGk7kZXMaEq82EJy_JmK6ChmFFvupZieaFUGyVeyqxt_65WzvoD/s320/500x_ap10082314784.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr align="justify"><td class="tr-caption">Dunno what it is, but whats the harm in buying it? My Wallet Feels Heavy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Men, whose mothers and wives shy away from shopping for them, are drawn to one stop shopping solutions, if there was a mythical store where they could acquire a DVD player, Bare essential Clothes and a Bun Kebab, that would culminate in the perfect shopping experience. A Lassi would be nice too. Women have the tendency to work rather differently, preferring to visit as much shops as possible to evaluate the ware almost as if they fear the shops might suddenly close down. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeIRLK1O9qip5lT6cgoSFIID2CcoQbrMKN3FGfrDiqckX_-sFh8HF1Fnp80N-EM7ahY2KsqAoobWGnSRLQbjtneGxSVZPB3tfWjATD2bhxRgW7w_Mgpgp6ed658_pQF_soDavK9QZm1zr/s1600/340x_man_shopping630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQeIRLK1O9qip5lT6cgoSFIID2CcoQbrMKN3FGfrDiqckX_-sFh8HF1Fnp80N-EM7ahY2KsqAoobWGnSRLQbjtneGxSVZPB3tfWjATD2bhxRgW7w_Mgpgp6ed658_pQF_soDavK9QZm1zr/s320/340x_man_shopping630.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, yes, we love carrying your bags for you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">If a man skips a store on his shopping spree, he doesn't really care. On the other hand, a woman is devastated due to the minute possibility that the store may have re-stocked some new happening wardrobe since the last time she was in the store (in all likelihood the day before).</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7j3wQs8CDSi_mUtKSN5hKMr0YLsPVXAtWpO4hzt4_-uQYKUaj8_UVix56oKlXJg7l67nWtaU_QUqY9hoQSIXbX5aKJGVzP3iV5Lw-DC0rFjm9zCjYBb0kSdy_9gMdHPQRu2o7eQh4LQz/s1600/2092945546_e65dae7750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7j3wQs8CDSi_mUtKSN5hKMr0YLsPVXAtWpO4hzt4_-uQYKUaj8_UVix56oKlXJg7l67nWtaU_QUqY9hoQSIXbX5aKJGVzP3iV5Lw-DC0rFjm9zCjYBb0kSdy_9gMdHPQRu2o7eQh4LQz/s320/2092945546_e65dae7750.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">$$$</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">For women, shopping is an Olympic sport that combines finesse, debating, charm and the proverbial threat....to leave the store without buying anything. Men consider shopping a sport as well, however it's more akin to the 100 yard dash. The faster you get to the finishing line the better. </div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-v3qM01Rx87CKCS1f2J2jZbGpt3QEMFto7PWB8bCj-z_0p7lvcC7OT3S591Xo6OjrtnkEVwBgxkDIWV-1Pvab3PsCgC09DlSIi9KafbwEoUQfoWWUjFIZ0EC6Un3CQHVwOSkEWU_pLXb/s1600/70996-dress_slutty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-v3qM01Rx87CKCS1f2J2jZbGpt3QEMFto7PWB8bCj-z_0p7lvcC7OT3S591Xo6OjrtnkEVwBgxkDIWV-1Pvab3PsCgC09DlSIi9KafbwEoUQfoWWUjFIZ0EC6Un3CQHVwOSkEWU_pLXb/s1600/70996-dress_slutty.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kind of Shopping Men are Happy to do with Women</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Men will do all that is possible to prolong the use of their clothes to prevent future shopping. Whether it's keeping their clothes well, or simply being ambivalent to the presence of mildew and a healthy dose of patches (we were really excited when tatty clothing was 'in'). Women on the other hand, feel the necessity to discard their clothing with regularity. No self-respecting, straight man feels the urge to replenish his wardrobe on a seasonal basis. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJy-6cNcTznWRf2FA8PekoSxY9IDPZptjsniZaK3IbfrjjY4KIhy70EjTIYo5SOQJ8sdrfFwBdFEVYNpSx_MJtX1lacPlMH6NDYz1ChPdux5h9euRXThaA3XoZUr7WrM_nouQTIVBdFe2/s1600/funny_shopping_bags05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwJy-6cNcTznWRf2FA8PekoSxY9IDPZptjsniZaK3IbfrjjY4KIhy70EjTIYo5SOQJ8sdrfFwBdFEVYNpSx_MJtX1lacPlMH6NDYz1ChPdux5h9euRXThaA3XoZUr7WrM_nouQTIVBdFe2/s320/funny_shopping_bags05.jpg" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Heavier the Bag the Tighter the Noose</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">When men are forced to shop, they tend to select items that will match their current wardrobe, women have the proclivity to buy items that require a whole new array of other items....the cycle is endless. Much to the joy of the consumer industry. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt9QihsEu-Kfi4dFbdlqcUvFy__iIBvsQJhoRuyg2vp8Uq0oG0r3eA7LTYrj63MA5ehN0trBaQ3zjzAsYSwpxZ25F41Ee0PX8O1Gjk4d7OXbce3I8PqqG4oPefOY-NlOyAK2P8iS3SyDbQ/s1600/diwali-shopping-india.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt9QihsEu-Kfi4dFbdlqcUvFy__iIBvsQJhoRuyg2vp8Uq0oG0r3eA7LTYrj63MA5ehN0trBaQ3zjzAsYSwpxZ25F41Ee0PX8O1Gjk4d7OXbce3I8PqqG4oPefOY-NlOyAK2P8iS3SyDbQ/s320/diwali-shopping-india.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Haggling; Despite putting together complex mergers and acquisitions deals and negotiating multi-year contracts, very few men know how to haggle properly, one can attribute this to their general lack of experience and the general comatose state of mind Men are in while being dragged from store to store by their significant others. Men will very simple look at the price quoted, if it's considered fair they'll pay it.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFFSvWm3vqS-eYOlux6VmMejKNeyYG5sUYhsc36seWv5bid09wNOuJVZ4Na-vHKlc9BA7GCpG7HgjVCa3Tpe6FQ1RxL2UFlIiLfvSxaUUp_lEO3U5eKMGDZUnvLjkoLpxr2vEbvk-5vRi/s1600/dead%252520marilyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFFSvWm3vqS-eYOlux6VmMejKNeyYG5sUYhsc36seWv5bid09wNOuJVZ4Na-vHKlc9BA7GCpG7HgjVCa3Tpe6FQ1RxL2UFlIiLfvSxaUUp_lEO3U5eKMGDZUnvLjkoLpxr2vEbvk-5vRi/s320/dead%252520marilyn.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An approximation of what a woman looks like when you deny her shopping rights</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Across generations and hordes of crying shopkeepers lying in their wake, women have developed haggling into an art form worthy of <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CB0QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSadequain&rct=j&q=sadequain%20artist%20pakistan&ei=x1O9TLfpOI-WvAPFwNU4&usg=AFQjCNEXGjw6xnvzGibi5LyFv1EvXaEK8A&sig2=ECemMmUuLTW9JzisKwQYvA&cad=rja">Sadequain</a>; Mind Boggling. Any layman lucky enough to properly observe a woman indulging in her dark art, the words 'Hostage Negotiator' come to mind.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzuFHzZfOhyphenhyphenGmv2U5WXoQRvrtrUXNyD2bA1N-HJvcBVg_Z7Ef6lSmb_681CGahoa_MXw-ApZ1jiPI-ThkjldKzhTGqGS33zd3Gejiqjacn5REm9rNSJ07M8gL-sAwKhLQ-pSke1t2O8iR/s1600/1057069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlzuFHzZfOhyphenhyphenGmv2U5WXoQRvrtrUXNyD2bA1N-HJvcBVg_Z7Ef6lSmb_681CGahoa_MXw-ApZ1jiPI-ThkjldKzhTGqGS33zd3Gejiqjacn5REm9rNSJ07M8gL-sAwKhLQ-pSke1t2O8iR/s320/1057069.jpg" width="181" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kim Kardashian Secretly Buying a Sweater for Gorilla Bananas</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">In addition women are hardly strangers to manipulation, my own little sister, in her early shopping days, once swooned when a jeweler quoted her a price for an item, proclaiming her poverty, once the gentle shop keeper pointed out that the substantial wad of rupees sticking out from her purse.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZUv1a1dDRWBCUadQl7MIHEgnXVxyprv84Eajr16I7R_SniZzS2kRbsFYGKgr9PLuXrHA18DeTAuf3TwRnmmlpm0IzAvQ1Mz-Swko12MCbJLY7DIhhwt3_G0loUSIH_4FeXToO4GUae7R/s1600/angry_shopping_600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZUv1a1dDRWBCUadQl7MIHEgnXVxyprv84Eajr16I7R_SniZzS2kRbsFYGKgr9PLuXrHA18DeTAuf3TwRnmmlpm0IzAvQ1Mz-Swko12MCbJLY7DIhhwt3_G0loUSIH_4FeXToO4GUae7R/s320/angry_shopping_600.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do you $%&$ Mean Credit Limit!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">She immediately switched tactics and questioned the man's honor for charging so much from a such a young girl. At which point, the jeweler realized that there was no winning the argument. He reluctantly brought the price down to more acceptable levels.....My sister was 9 years old at the time. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YZaUpRAh2PTqe7DzZV3NZ1vhJaRaqK8ygJR3gl-5VGvPYUVOYwcDm9dKH5Ae1B-3ItPirveRus8jcwvOaG87HGDWfJ5O3cd2zl9fPDGdgURtpA_2ngXlDi-DF7XKzDXDo70-0xucUdc1/s1600/Kajal-at-Padmavathi-Shopping-Mall-+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5YZaUpRAh2PTqe7DzZV3NZ1vhJaRaqK8ygJR3gl-5VGvPYUVOYwcDm9dKH5Ae1B-3ItPirveRus8jcwvOaG87HGDWfJ5O3cd2zl9fPDGdgURtpA_2ngXlDi-DF7XKzDXDo70-0xucUdc1/s320/Kajal-at-Padmavathi-Shopping-Mall-+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haha, I'm pretty enough to make you go broke</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">A guy is far more likely to buy the cheapest possible clothing substitute and brag to his friends how little he paid for it (After adding a 20% discount on what he actually paid). A woman on the other hand, tends to shy away from such indecency but will, to her friends and husband aka financier, typically add 20% to her buying price, not to mention add a brand label. </div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6d998TDa0wiYWErcoK6Wdf3eIEDasPrxiloEHZbtPZ-I8EAwPcrWEZX1HCGRgDXMsFD96M9rdNV1IoUY6e6yoq-tZHRRuEe6OG74xx3xDR5PYymmdXPpzquSL7wKcvKkUfFunh_3GGoJ/s1600/michalka-shop-lingerie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6d998TDa0wiYWErcoK6Wdf3eIEDasPrxiloEHZbtPZ-I8EAwPcrWEZX1HCGRgDXMsFD96M9rdNV1IoUY6e6yoq-tZHRRuEe6OG74xx3xDR5PYymmdXPpzquSL7wKcvKkUfFunh_3GGoJ/s320/michalka-shop-lingerie.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Good Kind of Shopping</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Making Clothes: Men don't make clothes; they tend to have an affection with all things ready made. You give a man a chunk of cloth and he'll wonder if the shop keeper mistakenly thought that his customer either asked for new sheets or was preparing to go to hajj. Women on the other hand, like nothing better to get their hands on some <i>kapra </i>(cloth) and go to work on it; apparently 'fashion designer' is embedded in their genetic makeup. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7qLmajvn7QojtsK5FF1ayfKDAh4eheLGx6hrdl-LKs2bAbp8cGxa6CLjTbf7sCVaQYjCopxTcF7sWhIS7LdFMPS0J74gboGJRvcaTfnHw5iWv3yJQTKu1bUAht4yNXInPsa9xjVU_rNc/s1600/shopping09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN7qLmajvn7QojtsK5FF1ayfKDAh4eheLGx6hrdl-LKs2bAbp8cGxa6CLjTbf7sCVaQYjCopxTcF7sWhIS7LdFMPS0J74gboGJRvcaTfnHw5iWv3yJQTKu1bUAht4yNXInPsa9xjVU_rNc/s320/shopping09.jpg" width="229" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Women, wherever possible will shop in packs, whenever a hostile negotiation over the price of tooth picks is ongoing, their team will either participate or look judgmentally at the said shopkeeper. It's a team effort. It's also a social factor and a way for womenfolk to bond. Men, shop alone, it's not an outing, it's a solo drive-by laden with as few receipts as humanly possible.</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpWh0amfoF5vydGCf5Sz2Glq8N_F45cBShZ1cZjUlOPQnV4U2cLF-2JJnQnYASaFh9lxujDrDfKVUkXX1fFz1cSfdrGVpxM7e4OGg5sXaURPMzOthzlRogJGGkmHqsQYICM5T1-HJSOoQ/s1600/shoppingindia1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOpWh0amfoF5vydGCf5Sz2Glq8N_F45cBShZ1cZjUlOPQnV4U2cLF-2JJnQnYASaFh9lxujDrDfKVUkXX1fFz1cSfdrGVpxM7e4OGg5sXaURPMzOthzlRogJGGkmHqsQYICM5T1-HJSOoQ/s320/shoppingindia1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting Married for the Gifts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Shopping is a part of all of our lives, but for those who shop; Proceed with caution. Women Don't Mess Around....<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4gT_jEErVjkVg2H4rM_DCFwFarXHxEJZaavIgFAN_oJmo9P5FLx5iaPehEc5mlq-dh6QyAD6f22CO76iAVH2qgl0sFkT5s6kcDVGDMWFKaJPr52lB6goIL1_YMNHkP_PDJoKTP0S_Lqv/s1600/0002bewb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4gT_jEErVjkVg2H4rM_DCFwFarXHxEJZaavIgFAN_oJmo9P5FLx5iaPehEc5mlq-dh6QyAD6f22CO76iAVH2qgl0sFkT5s6kcDVGDMWFKaJPr52lB6goIL1_YMNHkP_PDJoKTP0S_Lqv/s400/0002bewb.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Typical Woman's Christmas List</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
A Version of this article appeared in the Printed Edition of the DawnAlpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-28174518766768412382010-11-16T06:10:00.000-08:002010-11-16T06:12:17.467-08:00Farmers Against Agricultural Taxation Standing United (F.A.A.T.S.U)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMHbaRk2Ve46rdVNHSRWR2xbZ98yo6W4jzIQGBPem_tTNK_XinXWqE_d2chTmnhlE0K65hf8aci7QCwklZw5qsT6oNJ0lKPSIoNQzsUcdx0W6rDXsN-MZfsLQHmv-KQqnJjhQITZgfXTz/s1600/PHO-09Jun02-164177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCMHbaRk2Ve46rdVNHSRWR2xbZ98yo6W4jzIQGBPem_tTNK_XinXWqE_d2chTmnhlE0K65hf8aci7QCwklZw5qsT6oNJ0lKPSIoNQzsUcdx0W6rDXsN-MZfsLQHmv-KQqnJjhQITZgfXTz/s400/PHO-09Jun02-164177.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">DON'T TAX ME BRO!</span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
To be a farmer in Pakistan is to reside in a financial paradise. You have government subsidized irrigation and electricity, your output has set government funded support prices ensuring healthy dependable profits (Thank you <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pakistan_Agricultural_Storage_and_Services_Corporation">Pasco</a>!)...particularly since the guys setting the prices are the farmers themselves.....and in a country of a 170 million hungry mouths, demand is never a problem. Career and profitability wise, life is good.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNUK9sYGo2nqMoPmCI8XG6cumu42Ibg4GbfkRvlVGkjoHkogHA-8OFUf42jJEUDr2uXf57A8-5jGDAkih9o2f4dSiTu3x-j4t8XyjvUTqR4DA0kGntHWH-MchnrScsTEezU3N54cUgN8s/s1600/_39210622_hardtalk_banner300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNUK9sYGo2nqMoPmCI8XG6cumu42Ibg4GbfkRvlVGkjoHkogHA-8OFUf42jJEUDr2uXf57A8-5jGDAkih9o2f4dSiTu3x-j4t8XyjvUTqR4DA0kGntHWH-MchnrScsTEezU3N54cUgN8s/s1600/_39210622_hardtalk_banner300.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Because talking just got harder.....</span></td></tr>
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Now, it has been well documented (by most of my professors and lady friends) that my mind tends to wander off (mind you, it rarely comes back in a sane state), and on such an occasion I contemplated a scenario where the noted hard hitting, hard talking, and soft drinking BBC show <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HARDtalk">Hard Talk</a>'s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Sebastian">Tim Sebastian</a> ....would actually interview these esteemed group farmers, over their lack of taxable income. Farmers in Pakistan pay nil tax.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmymE3jo5afrhR09Y4PQVfkIS_GQZw0S1nAoyFB8kQejgj5sfjqlQO_HTy0NiJtrHYp2sXbJMG14tun-D0mrhMyiPaGSQHbTKO8le1wvGljpv1EKQFQynFS-vF22EY0bG-dwBdfu46vWMn/s1600/tim_sebastian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmymE3jo5afrhR09Y4PQVfkIS_GQZw0S1nAoyFB8kQejgj5sfjqlQO_HTy0NiJtrHYp2sXbJMG14tun-D0mrhMyiPaGSQHbTKO8le1wvGljpv1EKQFQynFS-vF22EY0bG-dwBdfu46vWMn/s320/tim_sebastian.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They call me Sebastian. Tim Sebastian. Like the Sex Symbol. Which also happens to be Me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Note: Sorry <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_Sackur">Stephen Sackur</a>, every time I see you, I think of much needed hair implants and Donald Trump's vagina. It's nothing personal. I just can't take your weirdly pitched voice seriously. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDEmxJkMVT56BkHt77C5zTspgEwMq2OLRZOrkolrmJZyA62FSfCCjb0cDlmIg6nBIJTyID7ABB_WRnzKwS3WUOISPAZJ1lG2i9FbWtS4K_bdDuK-2uTldmrsZ2d2Q6ki2szHYdcsdw01s/s1600/_46476166_hardtalk_sackur_bbc226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDEmxJkMVT56BkHt77C5zTspgEwMq2OLRZOrkolrmJZyA62FSfCCjb0cDlmIg6nBIJTyID7ABB_WRnzKwS3WUOISPAZJ1lG2i9FbWtS4K_bdDuK-2uTldmrsZ2d2Q6ki2szHYdcsdw01s/s1600/_46476166_hardtalk_sackur_bbc226.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stephen 'Everyone makes fun of my name' Sackur</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The topic of discussion is a farm tax to help pay for the damages caused by the floods. Needless to say, the Farming community is not happy with such a scenario. Simply because once we start taxing agriculture even a little bit, they can tax it again later. Which is the real doomsday scenario. Hence, the creation of FAATSU! Farmers Against Agricultural Taxation Stand United! A league dedicated to the preservation of Farmers rights from breaking the law (that is not paying taxes) by simply not allowing agri-taxes to be put into play.<br />
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This is how my day dream went.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kI66167TkDClFKke5MoGGa9vgXVKVr8o-hjoIYgV84l1KJvYJVXeuFI-RvwX4WNr2rl_lUNXr2O-6dK6FuNUKa-PEk2bWomwnmbqocJl6PeqGLas2OhcuCvMsMmFuQJ28VPYAwhUQxkQ/s1600/A-farmer-ploughs-his-fiel-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0kI66167TkDClFKke5MoGGa9vgXVKVr8o-hjoIYgV84l1KJvYJVXeuFI-RvwX4WNr2rl_lUNXr2O-6dK6FuNUKa-PEk2bWomwnmbqocJl6PeqGLas2OhcuCvMsMmFuQJ28VPYAwhUQxkQ/s320/A-farmer-ploughs-his-fiel-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If we were rich, wouldn't we be using tractors?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Nice Glib talk on the state of the agricultural economy of Pakistan. Tenth Largest Output in the world, biggest source of employment blah blah, who cares. We get it. It's important, just like every other agricultural economy on the planet.<br />
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<b>Tim Sebastian AKA Harder Talk: </b>So Mr. Wack'em Vedera, It is FAATSU's position that this proposed farm tax is unfair, why do you feel that the farming community should continue to be exempt from paying taxes, as the government scrambles for sources of revenues? <br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera:</b> I am off the belief that our taxation system should not punish the poor. It may not seem it to you, but I am a poor man, even a 1% tax is too much of a hardship on me (he proclaims as he wipes the sweat off his forehead with his Solid Gold Rollex watch.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">%$#%$#$ I SAID GROW WEED NOT WHEAT!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I and the rest of the FAATSUs do much good for the country, we sow crops that people eat...well, we don't personally do it, but the guys that work for us do! Personally, I even collect Zakat from my employees, I am such an subservient muslim that I adjust and increase the amount every year for inflation, so by my last count I collect 68% of my workers salary and that goes straight to Charity.<br />
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</tbody></table><b>Harder Talk with Classy British Cockney Accent:</b> That's a rather tidy sum, How is that spent? Do you deposit it with the government or donate it to a foundation? Can you provide documentation to such effect?<br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera:</b> No,no, those organizations are full of wasteful scoundrels, I take a trip every year with my family to perform Hajj (religious pilgrimage), and we stop by in Spain on the way, last year it was very tough, I had to sell some of my workers, their livers, kidney's and their first borns to raise funds for the Bentley I rented. RENTED. Naturally I can provide receipts for the hotels, flights, etc...the prostitutes might be tricky, those poor girls were Scottish after all, didn't understand a word of the Queens English.<br />
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Do you realize how mercilessly the Rich <i>Zamindaars </i>(Land Lords) mocked me when they realized I was renting as opposed to buying and then crashing it into a strip club like my family has done for generations? ooh, the shame. I was profoundly embarrassed, I shamed my village. Next year I'll have to buy two Bentley's and an F-16 just to get back on even footing. And my village will know pride again!<br />
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<b>Harder Talk: </b>You don't seem to be making any sacrifices, you took an opulent trip to Spain before going for an equally luxurious religious pilgrimage. What do you say to those, who contend that you are taking advantage of the sacrifices of your people and essentially manipulating them?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They called Regan the Great Communicator: They call us the Great Provider</td></tr>
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<b>Wack'em Vedera: </b><i>Gora Saeeen</i> (White Sir) That is completely ludicrious, I pride myself on the sacrifices I constantly make for my people, when my daughter got married the villagers from all over the region put a bit of money together, so naturally we didn't want to offend them and we ordered Mithai...from Switzerland, and ate the entire shipment....in one sitting! We didn't share it with them or anything. It's been 6 months and I still have the taste of Swiss Chocolates out of my mouth. I don't even like sweets, I'm diabetic. but for the love of my people I gulped down every bar of brandy filled chocolate till I felt closer to God.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't slur, I slam down the beat yo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Harder Talk: </b>You mean drunk<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're Number One, We're Number One!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Wack'em Vedera: </b>No, I mean closer to God, I couldn't even remember what happened the next morning. But I remember that through the haze I felt Almighty Allah's presence demanding that I take care of my people so I did!<br />
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<b>Harder Talk: </b>What did you do?<br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera: </b>Two things, firstly I gathered the closest several thousand people and had them build a sand castle city (Always wanted to be on Ripleys Believe it or Not) and secondly, in order to support the flood victims, I threw a flood relief party, it was a high class affair, the elite of elite were there. Almost 15 people showed up for a night of frivolity, Shakira performed, and I can tell you, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-56MFdYSbks">her hips certainly don't lie</a>.<br />
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We had <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CCAQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.gordonramsay.com%2F&rct=j&q=gordon%20ramsay&ei=kePgTKGNC43IvQO1rOHMDg&usg=AFQjCNF0aWJR7PYY05aIo9toCdDL4ASJ4g&sig2=W3bGnVV_7RCdDezVFhkMRg&cad=rja">Gordon Ramsay</a> cook some Tikkas in a savory cockroach sauce, it was lovely. Inspirational even. Completely worth the very reasonable 1000 pounds a plate that it cost.<br />
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<b>Harder Talk: </b>How much money were you able to from this glorified party fundraiser?<br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera: </b>Well, we actually ended up losing money, I never went to school, so my accounting skills were never good, I always believed that one ought to leave the Math to God. but I think it's important that we at least showed up and made our voices heard. Now all those rich people will feel shamed into doing their part, and it's all because of us! All hail FAATSUS!<br />
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<b>Harder Talk: </b>You must be joking.<br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera:</b> I'm not, I even remember one of the guests telling the Playboy Bunny Models<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malnourished Women</td></tr>
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how he had more than enough sugar to be all of her friends Sugar Daddy. <br />
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<b>Harder Talk: </b>How is that Charity?<br />
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Wack'em Vedera: </b>Have you seen how thin those poor girls are? They probably eat once a week. They are very needy. See he's going to give them free sugar, and we all know how expensive sugar has become, though that's because of the crazy <a href="http://www.portalforums.net/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=17988">Nauruans</a>; Have you seen how fat they all are? Besides, I think we've all agreed that our next benefit will be dedicated to those poor girls. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nauru: Fattest People in the World. Respekt!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>Harder Talk: </b>I think I'm going to be sick. You're all unbelievably delusional not to mention insane.<br />
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<b>Wack'em Vedera: </b>Don't mention it, we're all just humble servants of our people. We strive to set an example for the coming generations on how survive in the midst of poverty. Would you like a crumpet, I just had it flown in from some quaint little island called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monaco">Monaco</a>, have you heard of it?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shit, Now what? This takes forever to grow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b>The End.</b>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com58tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-25896967188767477402010-11-08T21:06:00.000-08:002010-11-08T21:06:21.482-08:00Life is Beautiful: Unrelenting Optimism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Z95Q-HxpRheeQe8LrWacxv_Jf70O3mCPb1QogccqezfDW6dYvqq206SvGvJqfbsBBbjaQGbIFIfvpsWTegwKbBzn3aejH1UcYL72k5t-LbiOaLBBhGL6JE5KiSME067d5lE5_lOKZi2W/s1600/Easy_Optimism_-usp96h-d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Z95Q-HxpRheeQe8LrWacxv_Jf70O3mCPb1QogccqezfDW6dYvqq206SvGvJqfbsBBbjaQGbIFIfvpsWTegwKbBzn3aejH1UcYL72k5t-LbiOaLBBhGL6JE5KiSME067d5lE5_lOKZi2W/s400/Easy_Optimism_-usp96h-d.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I am proud to announce that I've solved all of our nation's problems. We don't need to reduce corruption, inflation, the energy deficit, mis-justice, unemployment or even street protests; we need to change ourselves and establish a life code of 'Unrelenting Optimism', by which we should always rejoice, even if it requires hallucinating the facts. Our problem is that we're all silly nitwit bunch of complainers. No matter how good life is, we just complain. It's an Olympic sport for us Pakistani's. What we need to eat some Mushrooms (the spiritual kind), open our eyes and realize that everything is actually great. Life is Beautiful.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI73v6FaIs87Li4RZyFjrR5q3nHxKz1tZcCj5Ev3TsQH8l2Xk2VBB6s90iEaYwobENmo0dsBvCESI26y7EKHdIGqW884U5VULK_sLIbDJlXKotJVbYAP8XVklhutxGVs35fk0Z3edm-cUl/s1600/optimism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI73v6FaIs87Li4RZyFjrR5q3nHxKz1tZcCj5Ev3TsQH8l2Xk2VBB6s90iEaYwobENmo0dsBvCESI26y7EKHdIGqW884U5VULK_sLIbDJlXKotJVbYAP8XVklhutxGVs35fk0Z3edm-cUl/s320/optimism.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Ever so often, someone dies or an election happens, and People stream onto the street. Now, it's popular misconception that mayhem is being cause but that really isn't the case, after all, they aren't aren't actually rioting on the streets, they are in fact throwing one big street party, its definitely more Eid than Tienanmen square. Those cars and vehicles are being burnt so that everyone can have a bonfire they can roast marshmallows and Chicken Tikkas on! there is nothing more festive than fires popping up across the city. How often is that you get to see the entire neighborhood out and about? It's such a blessing indeed!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1LPnSCaBaRDGcQbXlcqOb9HAZliy4LEHFLhkgm89MONZIYjw-e_xfe7U9mg9HDnha8mX5sLxrBeyR5WIC-lj0PL59YzbcePbr7iEBFqi6bQdV51lK1AbH9HzHu5sEIucBXsL9pFDCrAf/s1600/chickentherapyhut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV1LPnSCaBaRDGcQbXlcqOb9HAZliy4LEHFLhkgm89MONZIYjw-e_xfe7U9mg9HDnha8mX5sLxrBeyR5WIC-lj0PL59YzbcePbr7iEBFqi6bQdV51lK1AbH9HzHu5sEIucBXsL9pFDCrAf/s320/chickentherapyhut.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><br />
Inflation is actually just the farmers way of trying to make everyone more health conscious. After all, Sugar, Meat and Dairy products are all very bad for health! The higher the prices, the less food a person consumes, the thinner they get and hence, a healthier (naturally better looking) population will emerge and it'll make nutritious choices; just like the North Koreans, don't they seem like a happy lot. how could we this blessed inflation see it for what it is? A national dieting drive!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw95den7AAynm9YCMyANrz7kH21ufAaQ2rEkP8bkqzOHLL7tZVIIaOWWfTzNkPdTd433B7TbJrNLzu4Sdf4SG9l_uesKrQdzE9qiKGSnJ_qV8i5snNk8WMwoTTfy5pHSHO3fjz0Vxgr_oh/s1600/unemployment.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw95den7AAynm9YCMyANrz7kH21ufAaQ2rEkP8bkqzOHLL7tZVIIaOWWfTzNkPdTd433B7TbJrNLzu4Sdf4SG9l_uesKrQdzE9qiKGSnJ_qV8i5snNk8WMwoTTfy5pHSHO3fjz0Vxgr_oh/s320/unemployment.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Some like the whine about unemployment and how too many people don't have jobs. Now that's certainly misleading. Unemployment isn't a problem, it just means that the general populace has more time to spend with their families and 'find themselves', but we do care for those work obsessed folk; which is why Saturdays are off! We truly do live in Paradise!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDT3b923uKKuHgZcFQ-vPLG47CMrUi3jI7vl_b_CJ3lpumN-UvHO2sa6LX82fpWg_84q0FYUHO7xBrF1CrgnHXn7FW3dCskQXt5kIs0tBlNzDY22H2gbCGNavNS2A_PZqaWPkyw2vRIeeU/s1600/2010-323--candlelit-dinner-.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDT3b923uKKuHgZcFQ-vPLG47CMrUi3jI7vl_b_CJ3lpumN-UvHO2sa6LX82fpWg_84q0FYUHO7xBrF1CrgnHXn7FW3dCskQXt5kIs0tBlNzDY22H2gbCGNavNS2A_PZqaWPkyw2vRIeeU/s320/2010-323--candlelit-dinner-.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The energy deficit doesn't mean that we should live in the dark, it not only helps the candle and generator industry, but by devoiding our lives of the internet, TV and fans, it also lets us appreciate the simpler things in life. Like a starry night as a drone powers on through to deliver it's next cache of bombs....completely for free!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq_qkAHL7IYx-DakV1mN82Ebr4FPEyMlpL4f5dGsjuFXNuWYlxZTty0KapM2G9aJtCwWoJCL3EkS6chIBqvlcns4rH9bEMyh9XECsgMgpu1V-Vrx1mEd4W8eyn78AY9XtgHWEiM7d-QOx/s1600/Pakistan-Helping-Taliban.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq_qkAHL7IYx-DakV1mN82Ebr4FPEyMlpL4f5dGsjuFXNuWYlxZTty0KapM2G9aJtCwWoJCL3EkS6chIBqvlcns4rH9bEMyh9XECsgMgpu1V-Vrx1mEd4W8eyn78AY9XtgHWEiM7d-QOx/s320/Pakistan-Helping-Taliban.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pakistan/US Relations: Just bribe us and get it over with.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Now many may mistake the relationship our nation has with our international friends aka the <i>goras</i> whom we affectionately call Obama, which is funny, because he's not gora, but we're too polite to say anything. Contrary to popular misconception, we're actually the best of friends. Infact they come over for sleep overs all the time, lend us money every so often, even though we never actually pay them back, they even look after our borders for us! Such silly news anchors we have, what more can one ask for in a friend?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR-b7X3msV1pXUGjy5Ov2hwIdK0or56xtbZ48y8swD88fZNo9fbK6Vevm04B4S3-wNbAGM3aJT8oVU6G-SauxWU27Y-uud7tPnD7kSviGwMwc_0Jnqmq0rhh-iJm7HX8vXF9tbJbFFuwF/s1600/Obama+Pakistan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR-b7X3msV1pXUGjy5Ov2hwIdK0or56xtbZ48y8swD88fZNo9fbK6Vevm04B4S3-wNbAGM3aJT8oVU6G-SauxWU27Y-uud7tPnD7kSviGwMwc_0Jnqmq0rhh-iJm7HX8vXF9tbJbFFuwF/s1600/Obama+Pakistan.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pakistan is AWESOME!; Ignore Anything Else I've Said to the Contrary.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The annual pillaging of the government's budget isn't corruption sucking the life blood out of Pakistan, it's actually a very smart investment for the future! The richer the political elite become, the bigger the scraps that fall from their table become. They are certainly better re-distributors of wealth than say the free market, they have an emotional stake in our country's people. We're so lucky!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyZQJC4ZlMGhvPygGUhgV58kFsUAehtZzMuXnfsx-hLJY1RnlwikHTZ7xCOyA0-neabQaVDm4xROn7f9WIajZb0GOVJYIAdk5qW0JLcsxbx23ZsBdtitmK3_1uy88tFKbIBYKI86Xjplp/s1600/optimism+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyZQJC4ZlMGhvPygGUhgV58kFsUAehtZzMuXnfsx-hLJY1RnlwikHTZ7xCOyA0-neabQaVDm4xROn7f9WIajZb0GOVJYIAdk5qW0JLcsxbx23ZsBdtitmK3_1uy88tFKbIBYKI86Xjplp/s320/optimism+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The More Glasses the Merrier</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Many people (blind conspiracy driven foreigner I'll bet), believe that Pakistan lacks a proper justice system, I say that they've completely mistaken. You see, we don't have a functional justice system that actually settles cases, because the powers that be have immense faith in the people of Pakistan to resolve our own problems. So what if it <i>sometimes</i> it allegedly get's out of hand. It's truly justice of the people. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uns8k7pPLSl2OSSs1OpCAvCOE-iD22BF6hJ8PS0ePTKJXMDl-zHnjtpMaVmkupaRFICTaX8MeIqkpFJjHObVJwPeJUk4rsO-tYv7ppGlQ-qP0WeDOtsVgB7ZrTWRcaEEcun3X89aTJgM/s1600/inflation.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uns8k7pPLSl2OSSs1OpCAvCOE-iD22BF6hJ8PS0ePTKJXMDl-zHnjtpMaVmkupaRFICTaX8MeIqkpFJjHObVJwPeJUk4rsO-tYv7ppGlQ-qP0WeDOtsVgB7ZrTWRcaEEcun3X89aTJgM/s320/inflation.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dealing With Inflation: Where there is a will, there is a Way!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Women have rights, plenty of rights, in fact I distinctly recall offering all women the right to come on over to my house clean the dishes, tidy up my room and make me a nice tasty meal (I prefer Lasagne), I'm sure all other Pakistani men are just as generous. We're an inviting lot you know! Almost to a fault, I daresay. We invited these Taliban chaps, and they like it here so much (duh, we're awesome...and <i>tight</i>), they decided to stay. Slumber parties for all!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbxs4mun1N1-mRkt6QZqPQC3rK3XbZFvVZkx-qVBd9FkMdXqzwwzXKsDvyFB9EZGZrlSqOkHlt_XXXHGbPicjcZ5Ddmf-OxHgEWYmsrGdyjlJmDk89snZwMORXF-Dw9gnTkCseKMcQuAW/s1600/Pakistan-girl-flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcbxs4mun1N1-mRkt6QZqPQC3rK3XbZFvVZkx-qVBd9FkMdXqzwwzXKsDvyFB9EZGZrlSqOkHlt_XXXHGbPicjcZ5Ddmf-OxHgEWYmsrGdyjlJmDk89snZwMORXF-Dw9gnTkCseKMcQuAW/s320/Pakistan-girl-flag.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't date Prudence! Prudence is Not Halal! YAY Overspending!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Government over spending, you see every once in a while, the world's economic powers would date a girl called 'Prudence', but since prudence is not a Muslim name (and is probably promiscuous as a result), we decided that it's in the best interest of the nation to shy away from her and over spend, just so that she doesn't get that idea that we're open to temptation. Besides, why would the most perfect Islamic state in all the lands, follow the fiscal example of the rest of the world? Sheer lunacy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sYGuSjyq9B_92bDKy-ufmY_fEBDzzv4JFP0nnEIILS7U9c0fzIU7QPq54FCOZhCY9OR49QSvYz5nER7MGVzzcBMwM6FHaAKjs5E7ipLreDIqaOrwtkm9Tc0r9dEqLMfibWOWi677ktUj/s1600/ab6uxw_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1sYGuSjyq9B_92bDKy-ufmY_fEBDzzv4JFP0nnEIILS7U9c0fzIU7QPq54FCOZhCY9OR49QSvYz5nER7MGVzzcBMwM6FHaAKjs5E7ipLreDIqaOrwtkm9Tc0r9dEqLMfibWOWi677ktUj/s320/ab6uxw_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Optimism is believing these Girls are all 21 and have no STD's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Besides, the more we borrow to spend now, the harder our children will have to work in paying off our debt, and we as a society want nothing more than for our future generations to develop a strong work ethic. A bunch of Lazies they will never be!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_55vVE72VxtfDyII9fWD42Nt_VUJPgoNxh_rYMjh5_TTroZhzXIsS5zulp0wRgKMUJ1PORQ6XdTLFxEtAI7KJ3upk1DhrqV9DV5J8GpmZJSljX86U3f5idgFD4WCtRTH-02CxFsYgm-N/s1600/optimism-smiley-water-262x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3_55vVE72VxtfDyII9fWD42Nt_VUJPgoNxh_rYMjh5_TTroZhzXIsS5zulp0wRgKMUJ1PORQ6XdTLFxEtAI7KJ3upk1DhrqV9DV5J8GpmZJSljX86U3f5idgFD4WCtRTH-02CxFsYgm-N/s1600/optimism-smiley-water-262x300.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Whilst others may share a different much less enjoyable reality, the world is really enjoyed by those eccentrics who choose to make the best of things, find joy even when the circumstances don't justify them. Anyone can be happy when the going is good, but to be happy when nothing works in one's favor – now that requires talent. And of course, unrelenting optimism; copious amounts of medication never hurt either.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhES459ytVqpiR-eqaVWKjDFnLwUR63X1e8NcGRaK97cPV9MgmNd7FhnJ7WmyXpiXTFa3H3YsjeBRjhXqLQIpOTbUySo6WD_SIrEH4WeCzh_4UjrICKfmKl2Hk6YVuPzk8a6hrENE0f96y4/s1600/demo%252Cfood%252Cfun%252Cfunny%252Cgeek%252Cmario-7835f348f0f99dbc35f47d7999ae6df0_h.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhES459ytVqpiR-eqaVWKjDFnLwUR63X1e8NcGRaK97cPV9MgmNd7FhnJ7WmyXpiXTFa3H3YsjeBRjhXqLQIpOTbUySo6WD_SIrEH4WeCzh_4UjrICKfmKl2Hk6YVuPzk8a6hrENE0f96y4/s320/demo%252Cfood%252Cfun%252Cfunny%252Cgeek%252Cmario-7835f348f0f99dbc35f47d7999ae6df0_h.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><br />
A version of this piece was reluctantly published on <a href="http://blog.dawn.com/2010/11/05/unrelenting-optimism/">Dawn.com</a>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com86tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-75834884269720173942010-10-28T13:29:00.000-07:002010-10-28T14:20:27.238-07:00Insane Aunties: The Scourge of The Sub-Continent<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrH7otFuY3tObC8dNKsMpHbySK_mHNEiUsnDIbta4X9O-4YyIRYJ2rQdq0luqKdysR6Yw48zhLlD2mysDXXu8OeML_P-9xg6FzeN_x2XoNJDK4ORfbA0GjN8iLs5iPBWxzm182c9Wzv91V/s1600/Hot+Aunties+in+Saree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrH7otFuY3tObC8dNKsMpHbySK_mHNEiUsnDIbta4X9O-4YyIRYJ2rQdq0luqKdysR6Yw48zhLlD2mysDXXu8OeML_P-9xg6FzeN_x2XoNJDK4ORfbA0GjN8iLs5iPBWxzm182c9Wzv91V/s400/Hot+Aunties+in+Saree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We're Coming For Your Brains!.....Betas loge!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Whilst men, like myself, are quite adept at proclaiming a general lack of fear in our 'manly' endeavors to climb mountains, enter in hot dog eating contests, date our friend's sisters (just kidding...or am I?), drink milk after a substantive meal of Nihari or even drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth, there is one thing that makes all desi men quake in there boot. Aunties. Crazy ones. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoGokXJjG-7hWAN6Yki8Pg2yiVXXu2YhCkvPanNlY7pUwWSLOSWM2vdjuWdUjz9-qOZ-ZbCYWYqJHpreF-SF1fiNC8STKU4Y5pNmJDjK9pqbMwor8A_ozz-C1ETX83uqQIphI_oSy6OSI/s1600/Hot-Aunties-In-Tight-Churidhar-Shalwar-Kameez.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoGokXJjG-7hWAN6Yki8Pg2yiVXXu2YhCkvPanNlY7pUwWSLOSWM2vdjuWdUjz9-qOZ-ZbCYWYqJHpreF-SF1fiNC8STKU4Y5pNmJDjK9pqbMwor8A_ozz-C1ETX83uqQIphI_oSy6OSI/s320/Hot-Aunties-In-Tight-Churidhar-Shalwar-Kameez.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">I even have a complex, mathematical formula that quantitatively expresses the conundrum, in...well...loosely put....BS form. Bhai Statistical....ism...ish....stuff.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LjKaRVtUELwyBr6crYe4Gco2YzLxVLbBeEbtpMWTxrqwetjQ_CQ4rlWwoZMSzBBcqL-TGyKiCs9ClJY9MKxtGF44wJ0pWVmINGtWDkF_vkVGE4MpVy1I6nm7Sc5lRxSkvchl6XiDkJUI/s1600/whos-your-daddy-darth-vader-shirt.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LjKaRVtUELwyBr6crYe4Gco2YzLxVLbBeEbtpMWTxrqwetjQ_CQ4rlWwoZMSzBBcqL-TGyKiCs9ClJY9MKxtGF44wJ0pWVmINGtWDkF_vkVGE4MpVy1I6nm7Sc5lRxSkvchl6XiDkJUI/s320/whos-your-daddy-darth-vader-shirt.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b>Puppies + Goldilocks + Maldivian Coffee = Darth Vader</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Proof: Puppies are deceptively cute till they bite you. Goldilocks is a nasty wench who goes around sleeping in people's beds and eating their food. No one like Maldivian Coffee; because it gives you the runs. Hence, No one likes Darth Vader because he smells like Maldivan Coffee has the propensity take other peoples stuff and he's a wench. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcUBSp4plxaCHSVEl5pYZsEQB-WeHp_DV6_DFvvZOxs1LIIk27Y2ZXhiz_y36tYMHwQ10S2jfxWjAnKjfF5vD5co2J_msrEZbeCENBTnGEwBtg7UnJyoxf_xcj73l62dmxdDqR-pR9vd7n/s1600/46048-james_earl_jones_hayden_christensen_darth_vader_star_wars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcUBSp4plxaCHSVEl5pYZsEQB-WeHp_DV6_DFvvZOxs1LIIk27Y2ZXhiz_y36tYMHwQ10S2jfxWjAnKjfF5vD5co2J_msrEZbeCENBTnGEwBtg7UnJyoxf_xcj73l62dmxdDqR-pR9vd7n/s320/46048-james_earl_jones_hayden_christensen_darth_vader_star_wars.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b>Darth Vader = Desi Genes</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Proof: If their mothers and bosses would let them, Desi guys would own nothing else other than black clothing and talk in throaty cig-wretched voices. Can't mess with Science. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b>Female Puppies = Rabies = Aunties</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Puppies have rabies, since rabies rhymes with babies and Aunties have babies or call everyone baby, therefore they are just like Aunties.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b>Desi + Aunties = Insane Aunties</b> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Proof: Brown Aunties have a special skin pigment that upon coming into contact with Rabies mutates them into a Chai drinking Zombie on Ecstasy. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5AFh8v_sJMEsbiaGKEavOPFB1zvXLX8yT32P6G29vS01BUmy0zma8HhqidCsv5nmHGa6VoDzPevTqYmYnw4LGPH160yYQNmCMgJCp7Px2ajIGK-1VnOWzYMc3zjc2ETSe7wJ_TqUKxWg/s1600/sithchick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5AFh8v_sJMEsbiaGKEavOPFB1zvXLX8yT32P6G29vS01BUmy0zma8HhqidCsv5nmHGa6VoDzPevTqYmYnw4LGPH160yYQNmCMgJCp7Px2ajIGK-1VnOWzYMc3zjc2ETSe7wJ_TqUKxWg/s320/sithchick.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b>Aunties + Rabies = Insane Aunites = Darth Vader = Evil</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Proof: All Aunties have rabies are insane, and by virtue of being Desi are insane and do inappropriate things like Darth Vader. Like looting, pillaging, murdering, lying, stealing, coughing, war mongering, cheating (for a more complete list, refer to Star Wars). </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUzR0AiEgDZT1KoqdSPqidnhbF8WyVTWX60cx5h92tAHHKsnlRSX7pD36F-vn7WwUMjneT-cjRU-HLl8nQCBIwDor6s_cydrE-vL-d0JyQnwgY7OHxvcFXJZjlKkOTrZ4eXVZrGsHBbmC/s1600/large-9a36a2628dc4c9f8df45b096aba040a4.jpg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUzR0AiEgDZT1KoqdSPqidnhbF8WyVTWX60cx5h92tAHHKsnlRSX7pD36F-vn7WwUMjneT-cjRU-HLl8nQCBIwDor6s_cydrE-vL-d0JyQnwgY7OHxvcFXJZjlKkOTrZ4eXVZrGsHBbmC/s320/large-9a36a2628dc4c9f8df45b096aba040a4.jpg.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, Pinky, we're So hip na, your son is soooo Hot!</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Every Desi person is well aware of the 'Insane Aunty syndrome' that has infected our happy, peace loving society. What is surprising about this condition is that every desi women's catches it...usually in wedding halls (close proximity in tight spaces is a boon for diseases of all sorts), it just manifests in different ways. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Women, undergoing the Insane Aunty Phase can be cured; a detox of Hajj, the Bahamas or a dearth of 'good' marriage grade girls and boys is highly recommended. As is a charity they can pretend to be a substantial part off. These infected Aunties are actually rather easy to spot, they are often observed with latest big buggy sun glasses, latest designer wear that always seems a few inches too tight, are replete with over sized bags, state of the art cell phones (which they only use to call & occasionally take picture) and the talent to spread news faster than the black plague, or more currently, denguey. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">I'm not sure what it is about Pakistan that nurtures these women, but I'm betting on a conspiracy spearheaded by the insidious European Pygmies of North Southern Slovakia....it's a top secret group....like the Zionists!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoyrgX3RO8bvZHQ1d0kqiyGv2XyBKgQo2G2wNG4vC0kcErYY-LugV0HWylRnqRwIj-IlkEnDHOjHOC1Jw550K-yGQJAeS36bRVdaN8wE_7hpzp3-hrU5bC1A72QXdGBEo6cMQBHyduXoH/s1600/aunties.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoyrgX3RO8bvZHQ1d0kqiyGv2XyBKgQo2G2wNG4vC0kcErYY-LugV0HWylRnqRwIj-IlkEnDHOjHOC1Jw550K-yGQJAeS36bRVdaN8wE_7hpzp3-hrU5bC1A72QXdGBEo6cMQBHyduXoH/s1600/aunties.jpg" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">I'm certain off is that there is some sort of genetic disposition in sub-continental women that, at a drop of a hat, makes them turn into bat shit fucking crazy beings hell bent on ridding the world of the unmarried, and mosquitoes. not necessarily in that order. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">In Pakistani, 'Hot Aunties' is a very popular search term. In the spirit of lucidity, I'm fairly confident that a disproportional number of these childish searches are by boys (and girls, I'm broad minded like that) seeking materials of the pornographic nature (Side note: I love that I can pretend to write like an adult). I think it's the Desi equivalent to MILF or perhaps the searchers were hoping to view their favorite Insane Aunty on Fire. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5FyW1L9kQhkSad9bMr9lxDTE_8K_-nnxiaxdhULGpPjeu6fuDfBSouoiuODnQQLhPZ2pbsw2UsP48aDtgXChws-RqTwolGpOngi_b_VzmST8wG2yoCQyrabYw_L-ROs7hr_Oay3vJalM/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5FyW1L9kQhkSad9bMr9lxDTE_8K_-nnxiaxdhULGpPjeu6fuDfBSouoiuODnQQLhPZ2pbsw2UsP48aDtgXChws-RqTwolGpOngi_b_VzmST8wG2yoCQyrabYw_L-ROs7hr_Oay3vJalM/s1600/images+(1).jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tell Us More About This North South Slovak Consipiracy!</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Now Pakistani girls in general are rather blessed in the looks department. They have what can only be described as copy right on Diva'esque 'God deems that you'll definitely get married...if you want to' body type. However, once a woman enters the Aunty stage (loosely defined at say 35, though I do know a toddler lass who prances around with an over sized hand bag, cell phone and shades large enough to protect her brain from UV rays), she tends to....um change. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhe0dPBKImij6_ydxjbwndgAvbc-s2YCv-FDph-5BgHQatBzrlONmUnnyae5LnEzO8CO7I2M6_scpeC-QwK8x3vzDiU2IrYXnBJmOaNSnvteCYH2vRoXDUlz-Dn10NaoM2FJvCcH31MdIm/s1600/fat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhe0dPBKImij6_ydxjbwndgAvbc-s2YCv-FDph-5BgHQatBzrlONmUnnyae5LnEzO8CO7I2M6_scpeC-QwK8x3vzDiU2IrYXnBJmOaNSnvteCYH2vRoXDUlz-Dn10NaoM2FJvCcH31MdIm/s320/fat.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Visual Facts Speak for themselves</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">The 'it's natural to put on a few pounds' comment, turns into several...dozen... of those 'few pounds', which is fine, because that's genetics. However, Insane Aunties love to 'barely notice' and have decade long conversations about everyone else's weight except for their own; I have the feeling that lack of mirrors and being self-delusional helps. As do prescription drugs.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpxu2oeQdi64psEwtu8HZ4MjeZtHQsNqg-UUexPW_B0b5j5KiuBSIvtRjupxS1mvVLYohNK2umSFJPhuyPLPoqAwrCF-zRFAJW0WspoxczKsKPFyOBsLqe2QuQFrydz-j-mB-8oKSIwb5/s1600/4urCASH.blogspot.com+(855).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjpxu2oeQdi64psEwtu8HZ4MjeZtHQsNqg-UUexPW_B0b5j5KiuBSIvtRjupxS1mvVLYohNK2umSFJPhuyPLPoqAwrCF-zRFAJW0WspoxczKsKPFyOBsLqe2QuQFrydz-j-mB-8oKSIwb5/s320/4urCASH.blogspot.com+(855).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">PS: Their Tailors are lying to them about their waists.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Gossip: Aunties are criticized for minute things like not knowing how to use the world wide web. Which is true, but the reason why is very simple. Aunties are the world wide web. Gossip spreading in an aunty circles like a plague of well... denguey. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9uIQe3ABslaGCIGGcF18Lbbm2Ftg3EE2kduS9kDwRltr7TFtvQ8BEUfml7WAh_6LyY3LDYZytXzyU255FXGOQxLwgUsRn-GeuYny2PlX8X9KW6wP4pPfoTRiCg9bEkom97U6pRfWUfmc/s1600/gossip1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX9uIQe3ABslaGCIGGcF18Lbbm2Ftg3EE2kduS9kDwRltr7TFtvQ8BEUfml7WAh_6LyY3LDYZytXzyU255FXGOQxLwgUsRn-GeuYny2PlX8X9KW6wP4pPfoTRiCg9bEkom97U6pRfWUfmc/s320/gossip1.jpg" width="219" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Once a bit of gossip gets the tiniest bit of attention, one may as well have announced it in the north pole via loudspeaker. They're getting in on Facebook too....The Millat Kind (everyone's outgrown Orkut).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Insane Aunties have an enhanced sense of smell, which they use for their sleuthing. Want to know if a girl is pregnant, ask an insane aunty and she'll give you accurate intel. One whiff. The American Drug Traffickers Association must piss in their pants every time they see one. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtjedq_Z9JvLFkjqqH7Md42cOMm1QbFTOG3lgBeTEbwUHCefdY6TJOpm3iioZ86OGUN9rxpLp3VPYPSFl-TzmXWun7xuXBQK-yuu3pT2FF4SZkbsPXkgxe1GuJYiB55Q9ymdEjBV4dNCw/s1600/diy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtjedq_Z9JvLFkjqqH7Md42cOMm1QbFTOG3lgBeTEbwUHCefdY6TJOpm3iioZ86OGUN9rxpLp3VPYPSFl-TzmXWun7xuXBQK-yuu3pT2FF4SZkbsPXkgxe1GuJYiB55Q9ymdEjBV4dNCw/s320/diy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">In an age where most older people can't understand cell phones, Insane Aunties have some psychic relationship with their phones, they always are on it, know when it's going to ring and why. I'm betting that there is a Swedish chip tucked away in the recesses of their brains. Right next to the hypocrisy ignorer kill switch.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Women carry massive bags, that's not secret. Insane Aunties, not only carry massive bags, they insist on filling them up with a random assortment of Sugar, Ketchup, Hot Sauce Sachets, BBQ Tonight Wet Wipes, decade old receipts,....and it's no wonder why they can never find their cellphone when it rings to the tune of 'Bootilicious'. Kill me now. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH07kdlFeD31Ff_mNlI_HlGP0iF7ulcttnl0pbhyViZfE-SE4avKJ9xQKbTzsu0D-UYvCwPx_Nys7zlbHZ8aKikdmdmADHc-YWVs9G2Bic7xSc_HwlzDA2KnweFDp4dmzLfZYoDkUa6A_g/s1600/AuntyNo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH07kdlFeD31Ff_mNlI_HlGP0iF7ulcttnl0pbhyViZfE-SE4avKJ9xQKbTzsu0D-UYvCwPx_Nys7zlbHZ8aKikdmdmADHc-YWVs9G2Bic7xSc_HwlzDA2KnweFDp4dmzLfZYoDkUa6A_g/s1600/AuntyNo1.jpg" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">Devious; no matter what position you take, an aunty will be able to add some insight that makes it sound like she agrees with you. before she lambasts you later in a classy bitchy way ofcourse. they call it 'being polite'. Want to create a scandal? Tell her anything....even Alien stories work.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdru77kv9ieyqJpHnUfaEtylvBXohEwzwixikNwOjucIUUuFR3wmRElPviioV16GxZk-B96JINX9Z5SyDzQp2HEP5XfQqffFt-lCq_KY6eFyPe1oXpr5o_mrZWd7gPqmwOjTXFOjpzZZG9/s1600/millionaire-matchmaker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdru77kv9ieyqJpHnUfaEtylvBXohEwzwixikNwOjucIUUuFR3wmRElPviioV16GxZk-B96JINX9Z5SyDzQp2HEP5XfQqffFt-lCq_KY6eFyPe1oXpr5o_mrZWd7gPqmwOjTXFOjpzZZG9/s320/millionaire-matchmaker.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">A nation of Match Makers: In a culture where arranged marriage are the norm, does anyone ever wonder how it get's done? it's the Auntie nation coming to the fore! Once an Insane Aunty catches hold of her prey, usually a single person of marriageable age (for girl's it may start as soon as 15, for guys....well, don't bother cashing in that first salary), they effectively activate an entire network of Aunties across the globe to find a suitable match. Sometimes it can be down to something as simple as that both individuals hate Peas, and voila, a match for a life time is made. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6m4r726vRiQEF_ii_tgDaUCXCxqQWhBKU4QzOH7IqSuSuhh7T8GxxdGxjqiH2tC2pD-pDbGJ4kS6Kkqk5MvlMvM71PPK7GTp-Q6_Mx0r0XsXrN_UxTXGuQH14WGZttYorkyCvwvDMb9d/s1600/mn_bhutto_life_81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6m4r726vRiQEF_ii_tgDaUCXCxqQWhBKU4QzOH7IqSuSuhh7T8GxxdGxjqiH2tC2pD-pDbGJ4kS6Kkqk5MvlMvM71PPK7GTp-Q6_Mx0r0XsXrN_UxTXGuQH14WGZttYorkyCvwvDMb9d/s320/mn_bhutto_life_81.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;">The sad thing is that as crazy and ridiculous as Insane Aunties are, leaving the youth quivering in their wake, it's these kooks that help make our lives entertaining. So as much as the grief, it's totally worth it. No one complained about the plague after they died from it did they? If you can't beat them, know that eventually you'll be genetically required to join them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgy4y1-6yLIAzAL97-75DnIQvHoW4ME0if4JZRzj9ymARbWawkKEcFpm2tX_rWwQSUn8VUT3bl0r2Y2zuDRxsFbdWD-athnhwdpYtipi6BfIJBAzioI8Ah93WxlRqCgWMtHOYNqqTmzIa/s1600/i_love_my_aunties_card-p137044987089761168q0yk_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgy4y1-6yLIAzAL97-75DnIQvHoW4ME0if4JZRzj9ymARbWawkKEcFpm2tX_rWwQSUn8VUT3bl0r2Y2zuDRxsFbdWD-athnhwdpYtipi6BfIJBAzioI8Ah93WxlRqCgWMtHOYNqqTmzIa/s320/i_love_my_aunties_card-p137044987089761168q0yk_400.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"><b><br />
Special thanks to all Desi women that do not morph into Insane Aunties. Your contribution to the male sanity is appreciated. </b></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-49836148899397898472010-10-21T08:01:00.000-07:002010-10-21T08:01:02.487-07:00Fakeroids: The Annoying Zombie Plague<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgyoKKt2wKFNjazIYorGtTAdJuObxMuc9M4HwSez0Nhcb_yeVJiYQWQvQd24YLknpH5e7wOp4Bstb85dC0x_YLEfP3B9er7h4pkUDp4tLitxUNpT5MxNJOO9h5fVqDj6h2AJAOnQw0dIu/s1600/alg_guards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvgyoKKt2wKFNjazIYorGtTAdJuObxMuc9M4HwSez0Nhcb_yeVJiYQWQvQd24YLknpH5e7wOp4Bstb85dC0x_YLEfP3B9er7h4pkUDp4tLitxUNpT5MxNJOO9h5fVqDj6h2AJAOnQw0dIu/s400/alg_guards.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Intense, Crazy Wired, Hip, Retarded</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Dear "Mr. My Fake Shades Make me Better than You",<br />
<br />
You may not remember me, but fate briefly introduced us when you decided that your intake of red bull justified annoying me. I wish I could remember your name, but it's rather a blur. It's not that I didn't enjoy your fake American-British encrusted accent or your expertise in decadent frivolities (no, I didn't know that 'Rambo' center was where all the cool people hung out and my life was better for it). I'll even go as far as to concede that I found your caffeine frothing threats to 'BBM' me from your Chinese <i>Blueberry </i>cell completely amusing. Fact: The Chinese made Blackberry don't have Blacberry Messenger.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDrOkg2Wu27eI3wcFP56pUxuT8ZRVwFsKBRLjxV0Ax_mQBfM5TE-oDVSIhE8k42_0ZvswGSk6OFW5cW527p0P2x3ntLIw1UeqDT_i52HpOMKjZKHBR9STVYweuM2LAfB4HM20mmZdmlXd/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDrOkg2Wu27eI3wcFP56pUxuT8ZRVwFsKBRLjxV0Ax_mQBfM5TE-oDVSIhE8k42_0ZvswGSk6OFW5cW527p0P2x3ntLIw1UeqDT_i52HpOMKjZKHBR9STVYweuM2LAfB4HM20mmZdmlXd/s320/download.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinking Coffee Makes Me Cool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Now, I don't mind the average person pounding 12 Red bull cans a day, but must you insist on running up to strangers and telling us how 'Crazy Wired' you are? There is a gaping chasm to what is cool, and what is woefully pathetic. You're not on the right side of the chasm. The silly stunts don't help either. As for me, I can drink a red bull and go straight to bed.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfCFmD1Xzc85SZvnRJFlN19wzOGGcHbV8TOHHXY4XtCWvTcw2RufNDXLMXwIGhRIVfm19dqnyNtatjVFWZZdeqN-n2yINgnLE97kwkd6d5hjL0qKFMT8HtwhqRhzFnvfmPKhR-Ui_33VY/s1600/3-fake-Armani.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfCFmD1Xzc85SZvnRJFlN19wzOGGcHbV8TOHHXY4XtCWvTcw2RufNDXLMXwIGhRIVfm19dqnyNtatjVFWZZdeqN-n2yINgnLE97kwkd6d5hjL0qKFMT8HtwhqRhzFnvfmPKhR-Ui_33VY/s320/3-fake-Armani.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
It's wonderful to meet such wannabe cultured souls whose love for all things "Areamani" (yes you read right) define their existence, and to be with fair, half the population is illiterate. And no one can be more persistently stylish than our fashionista Fakeroids. however, it is with great regret that I must point out that most of us can tell the difference between Areamani and Armani. It's something to do with being functionally literate I imagine. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8Zl50-S5z-pFnutfXzDtN8Zn3GdF_AQ8LHLpEHpsXYCMXKX5cNoZN9oZSNH2utDpbvQXlMRIHDUgOfRmvlGJ86KypNepSWBlVED7u2QAwQweMeW32mszKsEK2nKzYG3ABG3AcMr6eZPE/s1600/pakistan+shakes+world.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8Zl50-S5z-pFnutfXzDtN8Zn3GdF_AQ8LHLpEHpsXYCMXKX5cNoZN9oZSNH2utDpbvQXlMRIHDUgOfRmvlGJ86KypNepSWBlVED7u2QAwQweMeW32mszKsEK2nKzYG3ABG3AcMr6eZPE/s1600/pakistan+shakes+world.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The floods have devastated people's lives ... please don't try to equate it to the misery you feel when your servant left to rebuild his waterlogged ancestral village, nor is it a particularly tasteful excuse to attend 'charity' events, primarily to complain how the rich folk aren't doing their part to help the flood victims, all whilst gulping down 375 rupee coffee (You'd magnanimously donate the 25 rupee change, of course). That's the cost of a weeks rations for a small family. If you like, I have the receipts to prove it, they may seem unfamiliar since they aren't from the high end stores (Aghas/Epcos) you're used to frequenting. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVLCInph5JULxHqnCigHUvUdtchIkxzzKScyKihybrEenAuZG_TRG5aXEkC-vu0yqGP_-IWpplwKRl75_peIsWSJJYDJe1nxyy21p0rlVyu_jc-xx9RQiUQR0IsHM1j3hZIsL4mujJ1kf/s1600/hmmmmmmm-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVLCInph5JULxHqnCigHUvUdtchIkxzzKScyKihybrEenAuZG_TRG5aXEkC-vu0yqGP_-IWpplwKRl75_peIsWSJJYDJe1nxyy21p0rlVyu_jc-xx9RQiUQR0IsHM1j3hZIsL4mujJ1kf/s320/hmmmmmmm-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love me some intellectual debate</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The Fakeroids have deemed unemployment to be devastatingly in vogue, I mean how else would Mummy and Daddy feet utterly grateful for the delight that they are privileged enough to replenish the holy wardrobe... Particularly when an Armani pants costs the equivalent of the country's GDP per Capita.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIeNHpv8R7elHZHgN8Dc50s7iz6ndhXTZtfZpx3T7MSK8HOY_rHqnpndPKCJowvx24aRI5YJhaSFv7dr6c9bDajIjZGkUSugQ8E5BN2SDpJcjmgu6J5BU4_cqBOc2Cmbj5OW_T7FqqlvFR/s1600/Shriya-Saran-Party-Pics-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIeNHpv8R7elHZHgN8Dc50s7iz6ndhXTZtfZpx3T7MSK8HOY_rHqnpndPKCJowvx24aRI5YJhaSFv7dr6c9bDajIjZGkUSugQ8E5BN2SDpJcjmgu6J5BU4_cqBOc2Cmbj5OW_T7FqqlvFR/s320/Shriya-Saran-Party-Pics-8.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indoors, Shades, Girl passed out on me. Quick. TAKE A PICTURE....Who is the $#%$# Random Guy?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
With great apology, I must point out that because your esteemed plain black sequined pants (which you got from Zainab market) because they look just like the pair that Paris Hilton once wore, doesn't mean make you a fashion icon or a size zero.....and no, a corset won't help. Cutting down on the ice cream might. I'd also appreciate the opportunity to gently point out that Paris Hilton rose to fame because of things other than her sense of fashion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAvpPOSyS2o8CQjWtg09FihEO-Apjk_0vIwvaKSoZp3iZbYX8qAbC3TGlRuhnTQnMMNN3HqEzBacR74txS-_ONTu3L9KdtDmtm2fD8lR4lq1jmwm4mN-tI9Q_h4D8XRvcmg_fYFhWyu_J/s1600/Dog-Necklaces.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAvpPOSyS2o8CQjWtg09FihEO-Apjk_0vIwvaKSoZp3iZbYX8qAbC3TGlRuhnTQnMMNN3HqEzBacR74txS-_ONTu3L9KdtDmtm2fD8lR4lq1jmwm4mN-tI9Q_h4D8XRvcmg_fYFhWyu_J/s320/Dog-Necklaces.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cute Pup Laden With Jewelry that's going to get it Killed</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Does your dog really have to wear ruby encrusted shoes that cost as much as the annual GDP of Balochistan?I love dogs as much as the next person, which is why I encourage everyone to vote. And no, liking a politician's facebook profile because it rhymes with 'VersaCHEE' doesn't count. <br />
<br />
Now, as much as you love to prance into Coffee houses demanding the most complex pretentious drink known to man (asking for yak milk in your cappuccino much?), the rest of the 'we're drinking our damn coffee' republic doesn't care how well traveled you are or how <i>Pares (Um...Paris) </i>is just like Iceland (that habit of smirking and insisting <i>Pares</i> that's where all Parsi's come from and that Ice was invented in Iceland gets on my nerves too). At this point, the audience at large is unlikely to be impressed by your opinions on the state of Karachi either, particular if you've never been past Hotel Metropole because it is kacha abbadi and there are no good cafe's past there.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib48vXJ_K_Zxt0lET2olkYj9aW1WfkkxxECvnJ_pTTJSjlsG6gUJDZlNeWrPzLPil6NG8u9bThpNNbz2k1VUBr-9m-D2lNFQXueebYu7A1O42_RSPiVvdDUpADFXIdhSRHkGCctj2HFMJi/s1600/Pakistan_Fashion_Show_April_2008_Backstage_00031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib48vXJ_K_Zxt0lET2olkYj9aW1WfkkxxECvnJ_pTTJSjlsG6gUJDZlNeWrPzLPil6NG8u9bThpNNbz2k1VUBr-9m-D2lNFQXueebYu7A1O42_RSPiVvdDUpADFXIdhSRHkGCctj2HFMJi/s320/Pakistan_Fashion_Show_April_2008_Backstage_00031.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't care how well you know ANY of these people. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>The Fakeroids seem to live some charmed existence, the only indication they have that there is some modicum of unrest in the city is when <i>Espresso</i> shuts down for the day; which translates into a calamity ofcourse. But it is certainly a lovely chance to play 'oooh the roads are empty (minus the mob) look how fast I can drive my car.'<br />
<br />
Please don't pretend that all of your clothes are khaadi; knock offs lack a certain something....usually referred to as tags. the flimsy quality is a dead giveaway too. But don't fret, you can buy another before the color starts to run.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilukiimaLmhTkYJ9lvSxfZsXLlHQKfiXdmskUNNgBFsUCCjrQkeF7pVp0j3e70v5dK_XqRiSObyoZMaSY0klLSElVqqhX1vhoq1pBfiSX9i0bZ7iQYbQeUmgRzSsZgrYibtjpNnYf3LdBR/s1600/anti_valentine_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilukiimaLmhTkYJ9lvSxfZsXLlHQKfiXdmskUNNgBFsUCCjrQkeF7pVp0j3e70v5dK_XqRiSObyoZMaSY0klLSElVqqhX1vhoq1pBfiSX9i0bZ7iQYbQeUmgRzSsZgrYibtjpNnYf3LdBR/s320/anti_valentine_01.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just because we can tell, doesn't mean you have to take drastic measures</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I would never say that my wearing original Ray Beans shades makes me better than you, I'm far too cultured and polite for that. However, if a Fakeroid insists on trying to pass off their collection of 100 rupee shades whilst expertly proclaiming that my shades are obviously fake, I must insist that they carry a receipt, warranty and a letter from the manufacturer with them at all times. Think of it as a 'put up or shut up' badge of honor.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDXk4j5zGYirw2zEAWEZRlJIyX3hPrPWnNXVZUxSuHfEsonxPFhKXQPKVNlsIY2ppmwtVOuX3pXpT5qIZtIc10_sihNsKhLeQtKRpnaxJ63OcsiArUL-zzGRNHfkwBsCUHAimg1zBsEhL/s1600/full.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDXk4j5zGYirw2zEAWEZRlJIyX3hPrPWnNXVZUxSuHfEsonxPFhKXQPKVNlsIY2ppmwtVOuX3pXpT5qIZtIc10_sihNsKhLeQtKRpnaxJ63OcsiArUL-zzGRNHfkwBsCUHAimg1zBsEhL/s400/full.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Mistake, you don't actually have to say 'Do you Want Fries with that' to Work at McDonalds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So, Fakeroids, be who you are, be proud of it. You think that you're a Snob, but what you really are is a bun kebab who really wants to be a wannabe burger....hell, even they don't want to claim you. Rest easy, and learn how to say 'would you like fries with that'. <br />
<br />
And don't bug me again, my time is valuable, I actually have to work to make a living and pay taxes to ensure that others don't.<br />
<br />
Person who'll gladly use your fake Lacoste Polo to clean his Kenneth Cole Boots<br />
<br />
PS: You know who you are.Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com87tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-11351912246197190192010-10-13T04:10:00.000-07:002010-10-13T04:14:48.535-07:00Limited Government = Limited Stupidity = Thumbs Up!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR_PGpytMQTE48-zXNLLimO3w6iJHQo20UOsEP8YRkgNu2K8z1NW871BjiQNaVktv-ykQOyQnx6EckA-6gmeiNqcqFNlqiSuwBnC8iHpVPmc5ED_LLjM6USX9-23sjdRC0hyphenhypheni0ExcbhwG/s400/539w.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Government Will Take Care of Everything.....Pinky Swear!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR_PGpytMQTE48-zXNLLimO3w6iJHQo20UOsEP8YRkgNu2K8z1NW871BjiQNaVktv-ykQOyQnx6EckA-6gmeiNqcqFNlqiSuwBnC8iHpVPmc5ED_LLjM6USX9-23sjdRC0hyphenhypheni0ExcbhwG/s1600/539w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't understand the mindset behind Pro-Government interventionists. I really don't, and this is coming with a (rather charming) guy who is fairly okay with targeted socialism (by targeted, I mean give to the poor, I know, I'm a Softy Capitalist). I may be really thick (I contend that I'm not), but for arguments sake, let's say that the government intervening and actively managing society's moral conundrums is a good thing, because they're elected by the people and by having a legal responsibility to the people......But where in their job description have they suddenly inherited the titles of "Lord Protector of Morality" and "Awesome at Everything". Did we really think that we had <a href="http://www.buzzvines.com/pakistans-super-rich-people">a bunch of Bill Gates </a>on our hands?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Those wonderful folks, both elected and serving in the Government cesspool of a bureacracy have something resembling a responsibility to the people to serve them to the best of their ability. In a purely Pakistani contest, we're better off letting them run a fruit stand, as opposed to a 170 million person country. Why? Because they don't have the damndest idea of what they are doing? Hell, I wouldn't either? After all, what do I know about running a <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CBgQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thearynews.com%2Fenglish%2Fnewsdetail.asp%3Fnid%3D50328&rct=j&q=pakistan%20steel%20mills%20bail%20out&ei=Q4e1TI-gKZTsvQPKgeXQCg&usg=AFQjCNGzbFB3IOUo2T1VrgJLr9J6hMgwIQ&sig2=p3pIdcbD6AsOzEzi73oa9w&cad=rja">Steel Mill</a>? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqQA7P74VrQO49nNbXgJ8iZgj9lbfll0B5Ov8YMiQUt8n0zcDUIk-WOAMZZf77JlK9-8WPgsad63Fv5HIZRvkygfzeTgjAUxP3wbewE55xqPl7pdnSsTJflSE-VWvVZh0yL3sjsL58Kzi/s1600/pg-22-pakistan-afp-_146944s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqQA7P74VrQO49nNbXgJ8iZgj9lbfll0B5Ov8YMiQUt8n0zcDUIk-WOAMZZf77JlK9-8WPgsad63Fv5HIZRvkygfzeTgjAUxP3wbewE55xqPl7pdnSsTJflSE-VWvVZh0yL3sjsL58Kzi/s320/pg-22-pakistan-afp-_146944s.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's disappointing really, I mean, I thought we were entering a wonderful age of specialization...or more plainly put, if Ali become awesome at one thing, Ali can be both really good at it and make better money. It's about being qualified for the jobs that you are supposed to do. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">How does prancing around in your gucci shoes in parliament and spewing the most fashionable version of a conspiracy theory qualify you to set policy, run a country and act as Nanny in Chief to a nappy overloaded nation. Hell, if you want your baby's nappies changed properly, then Do Them Your Damn Self....do you really want to deal with leaky human waste...or maybe you should just hire a professional, nappy changing maid. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let's say your house has a leak (not the Nappy kind), and you have both your pipes and your wiring are soaked (like so soaked, you'd get a positively Eisenstein-ian hair do if you mucked around). You're initial reaction shouldn't be to ask the most persuasive plumber to fix the electrical wiring, Why? because he's at the house and you never know, he might be a better electrician than what he's theoretically spent his entire life both training and practicing to do.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM5bkA8mUqIRMNJ9U8JA_kFB_1SUGplOnrqyru4lwt5liJptFevrfG3Nmf9fUquJgIpmkecE9v7jze8J6IBGcw7SCdbFRPej7Qv92BzTwYMODi86-PKMRo2zbpycktir8wVyO3YFuajUh8/s1600/20060418-india-pakistan-border.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM5bkA8mUqIRMNJ9U8JA_kFB_1SUGplOnrqyru4lwt5liJptFevrfG3Nmf9fUquJgIpmkecE9v7jze8J6IBGcw7SCdbFRPej7Qv92BzTwYMODi86-PKMRo2zbpycktir8wVyO3YFuajUh8/s320/20060418-india-pakistan-border.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Why? Well, because he's here and since everyone in the neighborhood association decided that he's the best possible plumber for the job, he is obviously the best electrician available as well. Obviously, that same chap can manage the Pakistani Cricket Establishment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are days where I doubt my own Pakistani'ness. You see, I suffer from this horrible affliction that can be charitably categorized as minimal government interventionism, I really like the idea of them not getting up in my business....Why one may (quite rightfully) ask?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4D4h7Ec6DHVdlMoNBoz_fTL81f77PjXsTbW10_N2DGPqCydpO87_oju4gFapCnD-HgHPwZHrFOWaLUS6BURlSAyjKRnFBKpw5saaN6RYE6za8u5R24znLxuTCRRI5wMuDrOBB_oxDWTwT/s1600/index.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No where does it state that it's meant for the poor...we're all needy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4D4h7Ec6DHVdlMoNBoz_fTL81f77PjXsTbW10_N2DGPqCydpO87_oju4gFapCnD-HgHPwZHrFOWaLUS6BURlSAyjKRnFBKpw5saaN6RYE6za8u5R24znLxuTCRRI5wMuDrOBB_oxDWTwT/s1600/index.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Low taxes, I want low taxes so I can choose to spend more of my money in whatever way that I like. If I want to give money to a charitable organization for flood victims, that ought to be my prerogative, the government's desire to implement a flood tax or decides that it should take my tax money and subsidize an Airline (which quite frankly, services a minute slice of the populace) is folly.I don't appreciate them collecting my <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=1&sqi=2&ved=0CBIQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.nation.com.pk%2Fpakistan-news-newspaper-daily-english-online%2FRegional%2FKarachi%2F11-Feb-2010%2FPrevious-government-misused-Zakat-funds&rct=j&q=zakat%20funds%20pakistan%20government%20news&ei=9Yy1TPjaM4fyvQPt1N2xCg&usg=AFQjCNHo27YYBjWho6oT5Zimk2HsVdKNNQ&sig2=zIBdqhrRv7qBXJh0biDoiw&cad=rja">Zakat money</a> either, particularly when they spend it on an executive class Hajj. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I do sympathize with the government's drawing room politics philosophy because I reluctantly recognize that most Pakistani's do live under the illusion that everything is the governments responsibility (hence fault) and that they should get involved in every aspect of a persons life that they don't agree with (varies from imbecile to imbecile).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrh-y9kpu6XtiGp5_IBnrxG8qiFa-6uz8nPKQOF9QUZ61D_2KpxMU4cc8U0F_p7_bD9abqLIXMaS14717Bhn2kmY0NPsNeq0-zv-wSCCp_bdm2M1CFj4T_VaI8kYh-O55DreFPLbL_Uxj/s320/62349_433183823001_312764443001_5094681_6954402_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's the Minister's own Daughter, (and even if she wasn't it's not anyones damn business)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrh-y9kpu6XtiGp5_IBnrxG8qiFa-6uz8nPKQOF9QUZ61D_2KpxMU4cc8U0F_p7_bD9abqLIXMaS14717Bhn2kmY0NPsNeq0-zv-wSCCp_bdm2M1CFj4T_VaI8kYh-O55DreFPLbL_Uxj/s1600/62349_433183823001_312764443001_5094681_6954402_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I keep hearing about how Pakistan would be better if we banded together as Muslims and implemented a strict shariah code across the country. I tend to wonder whose version of Shariah? Osama Bin Laden or Shahrukh Khan's? Why can't people come to terms with the fact that Muslims are a diverse bunch, full of intricacies and multiple schools of thought? And everyone is utterly convinced that they've cracked the code of what it takes to be a perfectly acceptable Muslim.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Honestly, why can't everyone just follow their own brand of Islam as opposed to feeling that it is their God given right to have the government impose their ideals on anything with a heart beat, for them. Holding the goverment responsible for making everyone to their religious line is kind of like being mad that not everyone loved 'The Hangover' (though for the record, The Hangover, is Awesome). You want to spread your faith? Be an example to others. Don't expect the government to do it for you. It's not, and shouldn't be their job. Did I mention how awesome 'The Hangover" is? </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZceRmgE9_nGlYN0KgYWcWfxTr6qnlOFqa31BeA7c9njsSRxVjWag-n3S5f-supFRWIdlOwA0jo1yv7kPgTWqH_nv-uT6OCIIRHA7n9pgT2jazsFE0KoLqsSwYUE37w1XAyDR7DcYPGv0/s1600/Hangover.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hangover is Officially Awesome</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZceRmgE9_nGlYN0KgYWcWfxTr6qnlOFqa31BeA7c9njsSRxVjWag-n3S5f-supFRWIdlOwA0jo1yv7kPgTWqH_nv-uT6OCIIRHA7n9pgT2jazsFE0KoLqsSwYUE37w1XAyDR7DcYPGv0/s1600/Hangover.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I want my government to focus on the things that are the absolute essentials, like maintaining security (which they suck at), disaster management (which they also suck at), providing basic health and education services (again, which they suck at), and maybe throw in a few worthwhile tax incentive schemes for entrepreneurs and industries (people need jobs...preferably at Google...Facebook is apparently evil).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdwaeCLFw8MzWNJBa04dT4jnPWesaumgCqM5fphc-fgEc_PQF-jYbNcC9JqbhWgkC3xIV1lG40g863_yo_Ud9j-jmOqx3sZxXvJgStcUNKIftV2tlzdQsMpo_kiZXggVnfrI12Ob4Y9xL/s1600/Facebook.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If the Gov doesn't like Facebook...make a Page about it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdwaeCLFw8MzWNJBa04dT4jnPWesaumgCqM5fphc-fgEc_PQF-jYbNcC9JqbhWgkC3xIV1lG40g863_yo_Ud9j-jmOqx3sZxXvJgStcUNKIftV2tlzdQsMpo_kiZXggVnfrI12Ob4Y9xL/s1600/Facebook.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm not advocating handouts, even though, lets face it everyone wants a handout from the government because the truth is that secretly none of us respect those irresponsible corrupt pieces of intestinal pipe that run the country. They steal our money and <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=4&ved=0CCEQFjAD&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DPIMk2a3gpro&rct=j&q=corruption%20humara%20haq%20hai&ei=e4O1TIX5JYSgvgPwu5mGCg&usg=AFQjCNHTWvHwiHiwM9doJs1U6gtDSlHdjQ&sig2=D551O9yfdiffcWl1znoGNg&cad=rja">whine that corruption is their right and they most certainly aren't as corrupt as the last guy</a>. No duh we can't trust them, and if they are getting their 'kickbacks', we want ours. It's human nature.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Now, I'm all for democracy, but the idea is to elect leaders, not Overlords. But, hey, I'm willing to give it a shot. But it's be nice the government was kindly asked to express their angst in as minimal spheres of influence as possible! Maybe our government would be a tad bit more efficient if they stayed out of matters of religion, morality and bailouts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ50rD5L1KjfwVGNa6zkXTO2-Y8ijdntIokZnvcG2GOEJ2iVtcL8QQHdTfKwgG4rIK0dLQY8cSvnJvXOrodYOOY2OE9Z1PZXq0HYS972eBKSQ9E73aK0U4Ll99pL1zg50ZC93uB3wmm8sU/s320/tumblr_l8m6o2lgAw1qdcio8o1_400_large.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helping the little guy up, means someone has to stay behind.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ50rD5L1KjfwVGNa6zkXTO2-Y8ijdntIokZnvcG2GOEJ2iVtcL8QQHdTfKwgG4rIK0dLQY8cSvnJvXOrodYOOY2OE9Z1PZXq0HYS972eBKSQ9E73aK0U4Ll99pL1zg50ZC93uB3wmm8sU/s1600/tumblr_l8m6o2lgAw1qdcio8o1_400_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> Why is the government the answer to everything? Their track records reeks of a regurgitation of last years breakfast....which wouldn't be so bad, except that Nihari mixed with Dairy is positively explosive. Sadly, it's just easier to place the responsibility of doing everything at their feet and blame them when things aren't hunky dory, until we can collectively own up, we'll be at that uncomfortable impasse where we blame the government rather than figuring out the solutions of our problems things ourselves.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg33ao-oAEgUrl2vR8C8MkQUWmzlqROojBeSvccDQu7BJ0JyiS2NMEeOoit3RV7mO7m3k5MYDKSDUb6XjcRGBTIMH2XFjjKkETPxISiYx3Mb_Xdar1keomKeBTPBV_5xwKGVOZz3UYqIkn/s320/independence-day-pakistan-5.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Patriotic Only in Colors</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg33ao-oAEgUrl2vR8C8MkQUWmzlqROojBeSvccDQu7BJ0JyiS2NMEeOoit3RV7mO7m3k5MYDKSDUb6XjcRGBTIMH2XFjjKkETPxISiYx3Mb_Xdar1keomKeBTPBV_5xwKGVOZz3UYqIkn/s1600/independence-day-pakistan-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a purely practical level. This is what I'd do. Lump off all Public Sector Enterprises, sell off the management rights to the likes of the General Electric, Government of Singapore (It's run like a business) or any other riddiculously massive capitalist company. Reduce the number of ministries, outsource the likes of education, health, development ministries to private contractors who are all audited quarterly. Passing a 'I'm sorry for all the Fuck ups and I won't do it again" Bill would be dandy too. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3clMYT2rmP6dyWv6aBsqW2Fei9MXjowomA0LlZt16ug-qKl57JJbd2bSxMuiTTUThp1a4cTK4OU7np4-OcMttacUnHU7UVauxf6wKVMwQLebtgAhgJXvyYnsFFLEXsMvQ1Tsl3V6OxNd/s400/ap_pakistan_currency_081125_mn.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any Chance We Can Get All That Money Back?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc3clMYT2rmP6dyWv6aBsqW2Fei9MXjowomA0LlZt16ug-qKl57JJbd2bSxMuiTTUThp1a4cTK4OU7np4-OcMttacUnHU7UVauxf6wKVMwQLebtgAhgJXvyYnsFFLEXsMvQ1Tsl3V6OxNd/s1600/ap_pakistan_currency_081125_mn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-70117413318000252132010-10-06T13:31:00.000-07:002010-10-06T13:31:09.974-07:00World's Craziest Fatwas<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoU7e47YKKWIQHKzN7FJLFHKMOo7IyLFjrW2ee_OYQTQsbQY1WzWTAg919eoloZJb1Eehyphenhyphen2Nh6X2B7bRNeiMNxE53e00H51ylHtTuhttHZEucCOTxwty972Kq9pXeVrzhGlaoQtitWaZ6k/s1600/cr_mega_845_ul-qadri.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoU7e47YKKWIQHKzN7FJLFHKMOo7IyLFjrW2ee_OYQTQsbQY1WzWTAg919eoloZJb1Eehyphenhyphen2Nh6X2B7bRNeiMNxE53e00H51ylHtTuhttHZEucCOTxwty972Kq9pXeVrzhGlaoQtitWaZ6k/s400/cr_mega_845_ul-qadri.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I WILL BECOME LEGENDARY!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Some people have crazy traditions, like wearing the equivalent to skirts in the wet damp UK weather (Scots), getting married multiple times (Mormons), Having Celibate preachers (Catholics), and in Islam, well, we get crazy <i>fatwas</i> or the legal equivalent to Supreme Court decisions....supported by the might of a fundamentalist Army. In fact, we get these sometimes odd, mostly bemusing and utterly embarrassing religious dictation all the time and sadly, it's usually not a random bearded chap screaming for attention in Mozambique.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVi0E98IOAQzsHN_FC3i7Vf8WD_yEpFT_4pQrTpQ9Ro-2JsR3MpVV4xdaaBASc-4lfWfEO-5PPVHa4o8NrPziUcP_AEJtPCwOk9SbZHkbkdBiN2AzIIL5Wds6cwqt8x03jWi5QOf6_8nrg/s1600/P_Fatwa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVi0E98IOAQzsHN_FC3i7Vf8WD_yEpFT_4pQrTpQ9Ro-2JsR3MpVV4xdaaBASc-4lfWfEO-5PPVHa4o8NrPziUcP_AEJtPCwOk9SbZHkbkdBiN2AzIIL5Wds6cwqt8x03jWi5QOf6_8nrg/s320/P_Fatwa.jpg" width="310" /></a></div><br />
It's some rather well respected fellow with a prestigious sounding title. Like Grand "Boom Boom Wappa Wappa" Advisor to his Royal "but not Cooler or higher than God" Highness for Sanitary Affairs; Hence your chief hand washing and cleansing fatwa expert is born. <br />
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So, when I found this list of utterly ridiculous excuses for religious doctrine, I realized that the only way I can make myself feel better is by sharing them and enfusing them with my own brand of.... sardonic dastardliness. <b><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPedQNv1J-W0rMjib4OwH_gOHyyDk4bTES5NkFke43FKW_AhpHqv53WVLxo-wCVRWRBRQ7P5Em6YKQmK5DinZHCTAXJ9CJNSklNSRbYtP-3TJuP1eD3X5LKn-64BBc3LBu4Ke4PsbhF4LO/s1600/flat_earth+edit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPedQNv1J-W0rMjib4OwH_gOHyyDk4bTES5NkFke43FKW_AhpHqv53WVLxo-wCVRWRBRQ7P5Em6YKQmK5DinZHCTAXJ9CJNSklNSRbYtP-3TJuP1eD3X5LKn-64BBc3LBu4Ke4PsbhF4LO/s400/flat_earth+edit.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well...I'd need to recalculate all of my Frequent Flier Miles</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>The Fatwa: </b>Grand Mufti Sheikh Ibn Baaz: The Earth is Islamically Flat oh and the Sun Revolves Around the Earth</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">In a 2000 Fatwa titled “The Transmitted and Sensory Proofs of the Rotation of the Sun and Stillness of the Earth”, Saudi Arabian Grand 'Slam" Mufti Sheikh Ibn (I've been Baadz) Baaz asserted that the earth was flat and disk-like and that the sun revolved around it. He had insisted that satellite images to the contrary were nothing but a Western conspiracy against the Islamic world. He also believes the Columbus officially fell off the face of the earth and that Queen Isabella drafted in his twin to ensure that she didn't become the laughing stock of the flat world.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyjK-ZGkfkICpdVircJ8piCITh7b5oM1zlHIDk8x6vDoS_sEdlrgGWfYJp1EjZ-g6j80M4I-1XvJAht0eac10vFv25qJTerVAJUoZCZWX6hcY3OVbUzqJrHJzmOyRWkvBd9L48bbdoVKv/s1600/columbus-discovering-the-world-is-flat-w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyjK-ZGkfkICpdVircJ8piCITh7b5oM1zlHIDk8x6vDoS_sEdlrgGWfYJp1EjZ-g6j80M4I-1XvJAht0eac10vFv25qJTerVAJUoZCZWX6hcY3OVbUzqJrHJzmOyRWkvBd9L48bbdoVKv/s320/columbus-discovering-the-world-is-flat-w.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<b>Verdict:</b>I couldn't agree more, generations of young Muslims looking to avoid astronomy and astro physics classes can thank you. Now, I wonder if I'm allowed to use Google Earth? </div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><i>Source: Al-Ahram Weekly Issue 477, 13-19 April, 2000</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtzcwWzHpNfAJ3XgG1eippXUYKUZvr2FTpq2XcGUj2dNlPl584yZAf8PzqpsFptZW3beilDsMexZywIvEY-chgwBmejtcWgG4GPnlmMCIvpSMujJUWE8gbaxEC8_qVhjaHUgWCvCkWWksh/s1600/Padma-Lakshmi-and-Salman-Rushdie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtzcwWzHpNfAJ3XgG1eippXUYKUZvr2FTpq2XcGUj2dNlPl584yZAf8PzqpsFptZW3beilDsMexZywIvEY-chgwBmejtcWgG4GPnlmMCIvpSMujJUWE8gbaxEC8_qVhjaHUgWCvCkWWksh/s320/Padma-Lakshmi-and-Salman-Rushdie.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rushdie showing off his arm candy; Padma Lakshmi</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b>The Fatwa: </b>Ayatollah Khomeini: Kill for A Book None of Us Can Should Read!</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">In 1988, publication of Salman Rushdie’s novel “The Satanic Verses” led Iranian revolutionary leader Ayatollah Khomeini to issue a fatwa against Rushdie, with a huge bounty for his death. This triggered several attacks on the novel’s translators, publishers and booksellers, including the murder of a Japanese translator. Millions of Muslims around the world who had never read a single line of the book, and who had never even met Rushdie before allegedly wanted him dead. The Society for the Prevention of Un Islamic writing claimed that the book was a conspiracy by the Hindu God Jabba the Charpai<br />
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<b>Verdict:</b> It's a terrible book, awful overreaching prose, crack pot ideas and did I mention how awful the writing was? Khomeini did us a favor. oh, I've met Rushdie: I could have been ignoring the words coming out from his mouth, but I'm sure that he essentially agreed with my evaluation of his work, funny guy btw. In terms of insulting to Islam; Dante's inferno is alot worse. </div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><i>Source: “The West Is Choked by Fear”, Der Speigel Jan 4, 2010, Henryk Broder</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ29Rnk765dlQQvHhO0IMwrI7ZYtL6fr9_nCUCiWJe9zAFWSMbFMJTYzmTZQBQt7rwIWyuQsuHYEIWLBdBgC7XXJmEPrWuAEgZmm50RsiPDgE218GiWV8v0860euLQznaYC-U83Kly6LSW/s1600/khushbu-advert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ29Rnk765dlQQvHhO0IMwrI7ZYtL6fr9_nCUCiWJe9zAFWSMbFMJTYzmTZQBQt7rwIWyuQsuHYEIWLBdBgC7XXJmEPrWuAEgZmm50RsiPDgE218GiWV8v0860euLQznaYC-U83Kly6LSW/s320/khushbu-advert.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please buy our clothes. It's Halal...We Promise.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 22px;"></span></span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><b>The Fatwa: </b>Malaysian National Fatwa Council: Tomboy fatwa</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">A University of Massachusetts study reported that girls who play sports have higher self esteem (duh, so would mine if I was better at say giving birth than a woman), and are less likely to enter (or remain in) abusive relationships. The guardians of Malaysia National Fatwa Council were obviously compelled to act!. Kuala Lumpur had a near riot when the Sisters in Islam marched against a Malaysian fatwa banning tomboys, which branded any girls who act un-ladylike as violating Islamic tenets; Obviously unemployment is a severe issue in the nation of Malaysia. Fortunately, the as-yet undefined punishment for Malaysian girls in t-shirts and jeans hasn’t been incorporated into Sharia law yet.<br />
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<b>Verdict:</b> Epic Fail. This was a pro skirt rally I tell you! Besides, in a perfect world, wouldn't all girls be lady like? (and gorgeous). Can't you rent protesters in Malaysia? oh wait, that's Indonesia; oddly enough the worlds largest Muslim nation. <br />
</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXdAt8qrFg_WjkwLuWgIO0I3qxBCx_fSYJtvZMNp-p0p1MTb-fV3D1hGSPqkXkVSj2vqIm5vP3MIQlX0SgTuUJKMELCa3nzGO9uPkrIKS10rN5wEdf22Wzml34DRLxaC8Kp6kbJi1aqTA/s1600/6a0120a873ef36970b01310f3db871970c-800wi.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXdAt8qrFg_WjkwLuWgIO0I3qxBCx_fSYJtvZMNp-p0p1MTb-fV3D1hGSPqkXkVSj2vqIm5vP3MIQlX0SgTuUJKMELCa3nzGO9uPkrIKS10rN5wEdf22Wzml34DRLxaC8Kp6kbJi1aqTA/s1600/6a0120a873ef36970b01310f3db871970c-800wi.png" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span>The Fatwa: </b>Muhammad Al-Munajid: Bring Me the Head of Mickey Mouse</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">That’s right, somebody put on hit on Mickey Mouse. Calling Mickey “one of Satan’s soldiers,” Sheikh Muhammad Al-Munajid decreed that household mice and their cartoon cousins must be “killed in all cases”, according to the U.K.’s Daily Telegraph.</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">And get this—the guy’s not your average nutjob, either—Munajid used to be a former diplomat at the Saudi embassy in Washington D.C....okay, that makes him an above average nut jobs. In context; He made the remarks on Arab television network al-Majd TV after he was asked to give Islam’s teaching on mice.</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">But don’t worry, Mickey won’t be alone. Munajid also put a hit on Jerry from “Tom and Jerry”.<br />
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<b>Verdict</b>: Get the man some cheese and a therapist. I love Tom & Jerry, couldn't he have put a hit out on Count Dracula instead?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QHnyJJSyHbYEfrpJ4HfNzYSce41qafrw1hH1uZEIYxbeo7oHRI2hKj_3MYuzE5K2Ic-X1zjCulJMNp9CK9tlix546bVm6SJHDL1tzhZEm5bdO5mkR2CPYd3_kV_UHRBRdwL6SFfhCkCA/s1600/20041019_smiley-lg-image.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QHnyJJSyHbYEfrpJ4HfNzYSce41qafrw1hH1uZEIYxbeo7oHRI2hKj_3MYuzE5K2Ic-X1zjCulJMNp9CK9tlix546bVm6SJHDL1tzhZEm5bdO5mkR2CPYd3_kV_UHRBRdwL6SFfhCkCA/s400/20041019_smiley-lg-image.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE EVIL EMOTICONS</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><br />
The Fatwa: </b>Multaqa Ahl al Hadeeth: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emoticon">Emoticon </a>fatwa</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">I can almost get behind this one. Sure, they’re annoying, but evil? Really? Well, to a Muslim forum looking to make a name for itself—yes.</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">According to Muslim Internet Forum Multaqa Ahl al Hadeeth, “<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emoticon">Emoticons</a> are forbidden because of its imitation to Allah’s creatures whether it is original or mixture or even deformed one and since the picture is the face and the face is what makes the real picture then emoticons which represent faces that express emotions then all that add up to make them Haram.” Um...so should I hide away all of my child hood drawings while I'm at it? I sucked at art.<br />
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Additionally, “A woman should not use these images when speaking to a man who is not her mahram, because these faces are used to express how she is feeling, so it is as if she is smiling, laughing, acting shy and so on, and a woman should not do that with a non-mahram man. It is only permissible for a woman to speak to men in cases of necessity, so long as that is in a public chat room and not in private......Define 'necessity'....hormones count? or a really big smiley face... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhyv5ZY2q8yYaBRf4H8dqBmND9zdglXkvk7rDOPU6OQesFRpw17DLSiANghsUNtyMjcbKAVYUHr3jkgSutAfTkjHgqJDbBtaVug1daKr_vZpwcoa5i1ihSK2keuBB8LqwBPeLnrDr0RGS/s1600/illustration-illustratie_smiley-emoticon_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhyv5ZY2q8yYaBRf4H8dqBmND9zdglXkvk7rDOPU6OQesFRpw17DLSiANghsUNtyMjcbKAVYUHr3jkgSutAfTkjHgqJDbBtaVug1daKr_vZpwcoa5i1ihSK2keuBB8LqwBPeLnrDr0RGS/s200/illustration-illustratie_smiley-emoticon_04.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><b><br />
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<b>Verdict</b>: How do they find the time to think about this crap? :-) XOXOX ;-) XOXOX :-P XOXOX :-D<br />
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</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 22px;"></span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5e_0_MlAlIaEgZ8Z-dO6LBokR6yU-PZUCn_O71skjTvKbIC-Zy2qcjko6ItH2-qbWQeyU3YK6v_ipMQWNACyos1IC5zZf9dGOa7b7mRHFhSoQ66MSX0XVagFFnTWfFrmlIdUSz7KzT_d/s1600/aac258374a2a8b2157e61f4f942a-vi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5e_0_MlAlIaEgZ8Z-dO6LBokR6yU-PZUCn_O71skjTvKbIC-Zy2qcjko6ItH2-qbWQeyU3YK6v_ipMQWNACyos1IC5zZf9dGOa7b7mRHFhSoQ66MSX0XVagFFnTWfFrmlIdUSz7KzT_d/s400/aac258374a2a8b2157e61f4f942a-vi.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b><br />
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<b>The Fatwa: </b>Football fatwa</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">No, not even the beautiful game is safe from stupid fatwas, then again, it is the most popular sport in the world. As part of a government drive to eliminate frivolous fatwas, the Saudi newspaper Al Watan lampooned one very real edict setting out new rules for football. Reasonable demands included “do not play with 11 people like the heretics, Jews, and Christians”(I advocate Muslim teams having an extra man...we might actually win a few games), and “play in your pajamas or regular clothes (because) colored shorts and numbered T-shirts are not Muslim clothing (did I mention how math wasn't our thing?)”.<br />
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However, the most ridiculous aspect is the edict to “remove the crossbar in order not to imitate the heretics and in order to be entirely distinct from the soccer system’s despotic international rules.” Hey, just because most Muslim country's teams suck, doesn't mean we change the rules. It's not like we're <i>special needs</i> children.<br />
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Verdict: Don't hate the player, hate the game. Football is Awesome. Just send some Verrry liberal Islamic Missionaries to Brazil and we'll be fine. </div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><i>Source: “A Fatwa on Football”, The Guardian, Monday 31 October 2005.</i></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFu86c1QyepGMCK6xPnesNyy-lATvafLmuOWc3gc21pl7IMTMtqU24LcvDtpLcK4v2U6pcVgA1GNrw09jiy0wxybyyL0bOTrU15PsTiNFmqET8bh-wqk8N1bCMvyQFGx0z7IK_aOLkDKh/s1600/Taliban-women.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFu86c1QyepGMCK6xPnesNyy-lATvafLmuOWc3gc21pl7IMTMtqU24LcvDtpLcK4v2U6pcVgA1GNrw09jiy0wxybyyL0bOTrU15PsTiNFmqET8bh-wqk8N1bCMvyQFGx0z7IK_aOLkDKh/s400/Taliban-women.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corralling in The Wives of Afghan County</td></tr>
</tbody></table><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i><br />
</i></span>The Fatwa: </b>Islamicly Getting it On.</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">In 2007, the former dean of Islamic law at al-Azhar University in Cairo issued a fatwa that nudity during sexual intercourse invalidates a marriage between husband and wife. Suad Saleh, head of the women’s department of Al-Azhar’s Islamic studies, pleaded for sanity saying that “anything that can bring spouses closer to each other” and Islamic scholar Abdel Muti concurred, saying “Nothing is prohibited during marital sex, except of course sodomy.”<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNO8C8bNRB69s-W6b1RqNeN7-FcF5C3u2mz9x8s2xrxWxIm_HJLyiT0wUyx-ktST4d8TXYF2j5PHDJjkIYcB-6Xflva8IDDNTAucm6dy7XehMNoJtKtJBF-BYT_1zJoKFEhqnxzAOTVGa/s1600/my-butt-is-big.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNO8C8bNRB69s-W6b1RqNeN7-FcF5C3u2mz9x8s2xrxWxIm_HJLyiT0wUyx-ktST4d8TXYF2j5PHDJjkIYcB-6Xflva8IDDNTAucm6dy7XehMNoJtKtJBF-BYT_1zJoKFEhqnxzAOTVGa/s320/my-butt-is-big.jpg" width="292" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"> For his part, Al-Azhar’s fatwa committee chairman Abdullah Megawar backpedaled and said that married couples could see each other naked but should really cover up with a blanket during sex. He was also treated for physical self esteem issues. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKzFKSEZ2r94nrnj8tvOe6TkbDg_Q8F6W3CjLozXLeIl7XFKoiTcaUDphbDcO-QJwdtQNAfYzCUtSc7RmZ8pvZyEOnZw4IHaGYE5VswqNYADvQghPzZIJKYLpnlIPkb9r0c6aY19aQyy5/s1600/fg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkKzFKSEZ2r94nrnj8tvOe6TkbDg_Q8F6W3CjLozXLeIl7XFKoiTcaUDphbDcO-QJwdtQNAfYzCUtSc7RmZ8pvZyEOnZw4IHaGYE5VswqNYADvQghPzZIJKYLpnlIPkb9r0c6aY19aQyy5/s1600/fg.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was also very hungry</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><b>Verdict:</b> ...so many inappropriate jokes I could make that would book me a first class ticket straight to hell....</span></span></div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">http://www.simplydumb.com/2007/04/egyptian-cleric-nixes-naked-sex/<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWt4UvheA6MK8xHyDU2AVzw4EgDAue9jFzqkyB4SQkAlmz4Nm9hnwpbWL36Efv2zkSrSmS9SMBLp7XGPislgF485OiMmYq3kxg9jd7bUw718bQwfCGFwQQb8qR_12AaDzT-rRLyCkWKyN/s1600/600px-Breastfeeding-icon-med-svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHWt4UvheA6MK8xHyDU2AVzw4EgDAue9jFzqkyB4SQkAlmz4Nm9hnwpbWL36Efv2zkSrSmS9SMBLp7XGPislgF485OiMmYq3kxg9jd7bUw718bQwfCGFwQQb8qR_12AaDzT-rRLyCkWKyN/s200/600px-Breastfeeding-icon-med-svg.png" width="200" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><br />
</span>The Fatwa: </b>Ezzat Attiya: Adult Breastfeeding in the Workplace</div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;">In May 2007, Ezzat Attiya wondered how unrelated men and women could work together in the same office, when Islam forbids men and women who aren’t married or related to be alone together. His answer: let her suckle him FIVE TIMES. Yes, that’s right, an adult female breastfeeding an adult male coworker will defuse all sexual tension in the office.<br />
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Confused? See, the female worker will now be the male worker’s foster mother, and they can be alone together anytime. Attiya’s ruling was widely mocked...<i><a href="http://alphaza.blogspot.com/2010/08/islamic-clerics-guilty-of-breast-milk.html">well by me anywa</a>y</i>. He was later suspended from his job, bludgeoned for outright idiocracy in Arab newspapers. He later issued a retraction saying it was a “bad interpretation of a particular case.”<br />
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Privately, green elves have informed the multiple personalities of Alpha Za that Attiya feels he has the support to launch a World Wide Jihad for his cause. He was last seen testing this thesis in the red light district in Amsterdam.<br />
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<b>Verdict:</b> Someone's been watching too much porn....and needs to get over his Mommy issues. </div><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px;"><i>Source: “A Fatwa Free-for-All In the Islamic World”, New York Times, Michael Slackman, Monday, June 11, 2007.</i><br />
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I'm a rather understanding fellow, but even I can't <s>publicly </s>defend most of this. Even if some of it's out of context or just misunderstood....what the hell? Are you guys really kidding me..... Do we not already have enough of a PR disaster?<br />
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<b>Maybe what the Muslim's need are better, less juvenile Clerics in order to have a nation of better Muslims. </b><br />
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<i>Much thanks to: http://duniasyukron.blogspot.com/2010/08/top-10-bizarre-or-ridiculous-fatwas.html</i></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-25601137069388293172010-10-02T15:14:00.000-07:002010-10-02T15:14:29.135-07:00To My Baby Niece<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1OU9BCGI0F7p_641LfO2MzOYqGnN7li6RvxVmpXZ_Jt-4SyW6s-iixNXwaGLhyphenhyphenipRW9WOXTWL3PPJ8sZ3cAHvzfxQFqwMb4x27fkJ7DtHs7YsQFx-wMUebA-LYmFaWsv8wnmCjaDp1V9/s1600/IMG00062-20101002-1224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1OU9BCGI0F7p_641LfO2MzOYqGnN7li6RvxVmpXZ_Jt-4SyW6s-iixNXwaGLhyphenhyphenipRW9WOXTWL3PPJ8sZ3cAHvzfxQFqwMb4x27fkJ7DtHs7YsQFx-wMUebA-LYmFaWsv8wnmCjaDp1V9/s400/IMG00062-20101002-1224.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br />
Dear Child Who Has Yet To Be Officially Named<br />
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Happy 'Birth' day Congratulations on being Born....some 9 hours ago! and even greater congratulations on having me as your Uncle. I wish I could have been there in Toronto when you decided to make your presence felt in this world, but life isn't fair. And I wish it was and that I could tell you that we brought you in a world where it was, where everyone was good, and fair, but it isn't. However, for now, that's not something you ought to be concerned about...hell, if I had a cogent thought when I was your age, I'm sure it'd be along the lines of asking the nurse where the hell my water bed went?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAc0Ahx6aCXPj1RV6L4AglSOxWpgwmXN28QxI1h-q_PC8jZ6XzW8M_spstToNAc6BGMI0RyvHZEnPN3TovkRnS-rdB37NHirUWL1ff59LaPXNfSPxcd0aJBGLuHXGoWAXVwecoKPIIM81j/s1600/46976_436690386642_509626642_5711386_2867301_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAc0Ahx6aCXPj1RV6L4AglSOxWpgwmXN28QxI1h-q_PC8jZ6XzW8M_spstToNAc6BGMI0RyvHZEnPN3TovkRnS-rdB37NHirUWL1ff59LaPXNfSPxcd0aJBGLuHXGoWAXVwecoKPIIM81j/s320/46976_436690386642_509626642_5711386_2867301_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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I'm sure you're all confused with the whole being born thing, the bright lights (don't worry, they'll adjust, but if you want to re-live that sensation then there is this great place called Las Vegas), complete strangers fawning over you and telling you how much they love you and how cute you look (considering your tremendous gene pool, I suggest you get used to it) and lastly not understanding a speck of what is going on (don't worry, most of it will be religious rites that you won't care about till you have your own bundles of joy...assuming you want a few).<br />
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The reason I'm writing this note isn't to tell you about how great I am, or for you to obey your family at all times (I'm sure they wouldn't mind), it's to pass on little bits of knowledge that I'd wish I had when I was..well, newly born, trying to figure out this loud odd ball, water bedless world of ours.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6GYS4dsb9K-Jfahbr8g4-3TRjnkxoqNO9JdDWFG1c7HsgxKgVv-_08tcUh5Zr9QT4Sb1sVCZ_Iz3kHEwcJYFCeXV2zyngp7_PfLCiwq84l7IJLX7hqulHOyJgAH_w4Iv8ExacpREDN-G/s1600/IMG00058-20101002-1218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP6GYS4dsb9K-Jfahbr8g4-3TRjnkxoqNO9JdDWFG1c7HsgxKgVv-_08tcUh5Zr9QT4Sb1sVCZ_Iz3kHEwcJYFCeXV2zyngp7_PfLCiwq84l7IJLX7hqulHOyJgAH_w4Iv8ExacpREDN-G/s320/IMG00058-20101002-1218.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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You can get away with anything. You will always be cute and utterly precious to us (congratulations, you have an automatic family battalion well into the dozens), but right now, whether you spit, gargle, poop, urinate, vomit or even salivate our of your hands, we don't care, we'll even think some of it's cute...until we call your mommy to clean it up. You can do all the crazy things you want and get away with it, I don't even think they even prosecute cute babies for murder. Though, we'd prefer it if you took all the jostling, nap time interruptions in relatively good cheer. We'll love you no matter what, however, the spillage chaos is frowned upon the older you get. You'll also find that odd baby voice that everyone talks to you in will become extraordinarily annoying.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCPdGr7LoICWokEoadxrfl_7Tr2dIiZvmaNLDQq52wXSmvkSlWyXJO-bT7yavWGOlMnVTA6tFn7HYlz3aX5ngpW3uzE5aRh9PySSvOXkGnvbQbmLrucTze9O7sYVZTvnMFhGW35z3uQv_/s1600/P1000804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivCPdGr7LoICWokEoadxrfl_7Tr2dIiZvmaNLDQq52wXSmvkSlWyXJO-bT7yavWGOlMnVTA6tFn7HYlz3aX5ngpW3uzE5aRh9PySSvOXkGnvbQbmLrucTze9O7sYVZTvnMFhGW35z3uQv_/s320/P1000804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Little boys can be mean, if they are every mean to you, you either mace spray them (I'm sending you a carton with baby hand appropriate sized spray cans) or tell them that they have cooties and it means that they are going to die. It'll work at least the first few times, little boys are stupid...and they actually don't get much better. What everyone says, friend or family will seem like a big deal to you, remember that words are mostly verbal sewage, don't take them seriously and know that you have the Uncles to make anyone who annoys you very sorry. But if you can learn to forgive and forget/get even, then that's even better.<br />
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Smile all the time, nothing makes anyone happier than seeing a baby smile, if Hitler (don't worry, you'll learn about him eventually) spent more time around smiling babies as opposed to starving ones, the world would be a better place. If you'd spend less time crying, that would be nice too, your Mom will be juggling her various responsibilities like an acrobat on steroid medication.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DTxscOWiynEHi8QCVc6sTdk3xkuFjmY6Hy7yo_YfFZcczgonWOjgxRPlOeR6GzSGkAdLl4DyiyQ9WFRlCBSrVS6JgSXFD3lwTBp6siFtqDZK5JXfbJCXBv4se6exNtdSUqNEABEY1bCS/s1600/IMG00061-20101002-1224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DTxscOWiynEHi8QCVc6sTdk3xkuFjmY6Hy7yo_YfFZcczgonWOjgxRPlOeR6GzSGkAdLl4DyiyQ9WFRlCBSrVS6JgSXFD3lwTBp6siFtqDZK5JXfbJCXBv4se6exNtdSUqNEABEY1bCS/s320/IMG00061-20101002-1224.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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Name recognition; it's going to take you a few years to get a hang of all the names of everyone, don't feel bad, it doesn't really matter. Hell, I can barely still keep track of half of family's names; it get's hazy into second cousins region. When in doubt, ask your Mom or better yet, Grandma. But get used to meeting people who know your name and can regale you with stories about cute acts of infant-ness you performed. You won't remember, trust me. Just take their prodding in cheer.<br />
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You won't be having much other than smelly mush and breast milk for a while, just roll with it and trust as when we say that you'll need teeth for all the good stuff (oh, yeah, teething ain't fun either). You may think it's a good idea to play with your food, which is find, but kindly limit your projectile range to your food bowl, it'll make clean up easier...and yes, none of us want to try the carrot mush anymore than you do.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3CH8zhogJGn4jgsDU0Xx1rfrS9BWb3NOGS1j4E1_Qrdh12GtiY8bFS2IV5KCUw2EyOMsRPmYS8Xd94a3sHQAVUl8v4ILCJoPfHTNWfpcsNG4UqWZAbeWIIksCHloOE3q1MeRFMK6ZYhep/s1600/P1000808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3CH8zhogJGn4jgsDU0Xx1rfrS9BWb3NOGS1j4E1_Qrdh12GtiY8bFS2IV5KCUw2EyOMsRPmYS8Xd94a3sHQAVUl8v4ILCJoPfHTNWfpcsNG4UqWZAbeWIIksCHloOE3q1MeRFMK6ZYhep/s320/P1000808.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Enjoy the free range pooping and peeing privileges, eventually those are going to end; you're going to have to give up the pampers and take care of yourself like everyone else. In the mean time, enjoy the rare sensation of knowing that you don't have to miss a second of your favorite show just to use the bathroom.<br />
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You're beautiful and we love you no matter what anyone else says, we don't care if you decide to grow an extra foot or decide that dread locks are the way to go. You are family and family loves each other unequivocally with such a resolute absoluteness that you won't find anywhere else. If you do, then congratulations, you've met your best friend.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXT2TqmN5GKil49Acw3q_HBVRmFzhKLhGi_hy9poFvZupY4IhYQerXL-019e06p81y7-P7N85MKt6XuBZjE4uphWluLG41BhyphenhyphenxVCytkGR76vJfRpPXqLNEJNPMABgj4q-UNLRuygh0baq/s1600/62868_436688136642_509626642_5711340_5376992_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXT2TqmN5GKil49Acw3q_HBVRmFzhKLhGi_hy9poFvZupY4IhYQerXL-019e06p81y7-P7N85MKt6XuBZjE4uphWluLG41BhyphenhyphenxVCytkGR76vJfRpPXqLNEJNPMABgj4q-UNLRuygh0baq/s320/62868_436688136642_509626642_5711340_5376992_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Did I mention how much we love you, and that you're going to be the best loved baby the world have seen.... since your Aunt?<br />
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Take care of your Mom and Dad<br />
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I Love you very much and I always will.<br />
<br />
Murtaza Mamoo (Uncle)<br />
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PS: If your first words can be Murtaza Mamoo, that would be great.Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-24832811383979408582010-09-30T02:44:00.000-07:002010-09-30T02:44:53.917-07:00The Bugs Bunny Army<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmbcWe5KP4t4I0gL0U_vIckvKlTXJ7GETd_jjVdv3CrNSbu7dOSelvuqSLqGnkEnqPhg0W_44bFJsuq4o_N-lu-XtUShUMUztvIlXnkUkdkPxbREsYiEUnqTzAsGJO_pzEbww2SLNCEXw/s1600/bugs-bunny-bg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkmbcWe5KP4t4I0gL0U_vIckvKlTXJ7GETd_jjVdv3CrNSbu7dOSelvuqSLqGnkEnqPhg0W_44bFJsuq4o_N-lu-XtUShUMUztvIlXnkUkdkPxbREsYiEUnqTzAsGJO_pzEbww2SLNCEXw/s400/bugs-bunny-bg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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I used to love playing army as a kid, I'm all into that strategical warfare dimwit stuff, in real life who'd give me command of several hundred Orcs or battalions of Riflemen. Hell, in Sid Meier's Civilization 2, I'd make treaties just to break them.<br />
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<i>For all of you CIV2 Fan's: I Love Communist Governments; Guess I'm a North Korean Kim Jong Il dictator at heart :( </i><br />
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But in real life, Armies are big, expensive and most of the time, they're pretty much just chilling waiting for someone (who they think they can actually crush into oblivion) to pick a fight.When they do have something to do, they are usually incompetent at it (Israeli army, one of the best trained armies in the world, gets regular beat down from kids throwing rocks...I mean, c'mon, it's not like those rocks are made out of plutonium). <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UpTwsCb2BD29o_QLeEMQ1Mt7_p8SfJbjXqhoJsepVHUS6_uUPuAvTiKHM32EWGftJiCi9-jrK-7d93GUyfWc9rmlV0MmlngX4U9MS_gtVCV3NROCKvXQ9yJHIC8gmDP0epDSrfIiFOJn/s1600/RabbitArmy-smile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UpTwsCb2BD29o_QLeEMQ1Mt7_p8SfJbjXqhoJsepVHUS6_uUPuAvTiKHM32EWGftJiCi9-jrK-7d93GUyfWc9rmlV0MmlngX4U9MS_gtVCV3NROCKvXQ9yJHIC8gmDP0epDSrfIiFOJn/s400/RabbitArmy-smile.jpg" width="305" /></a></div><br />
The Pakistani Army needs reforms. Simply put, I want an army that will affectionately be known as <b>Bug's Bunnies</b>. Now, it has occurred to me the difficulty in getting Paper illustration to carry out army operations, particularly when my own drawing skills usually made my teachers assume that I was mentally challenged (Thank God for A's for Effort).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwRmYZLzyNSDLdMguaX31iP65TNt9ria7VPeztG8q8edIkqJid7bpC_FRdNJsvxY0FxCa3A9M_OXanwQAPOdFpECjxrLHWp5TdMvnE8qqm7e4dQxW-ce0slruyMU9kwk7P8Zlf_nwa-EnJ/s1600/imagffes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwRmYZLzyNSDLdMguaX31iP65TNt9ria7VPeztG8q8edIkqJid7bpC_FRdNJsvxY0FxCa3A9M_OXanwQAPOdFpECjxrLHWp5TdMvnE8qqm7e4dQxW-ce0slruyMU9kwk7P8Zlf_nwa-EnJ/s1600/imagffes.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Self Replenishment: Medical insurance, pharmaceutical drugs, stretchers, trained doctors are expensive. That's the first thing that we can immediately lop off from the defense budget. This is why; Bunnies tend to procreate...alot. Hence the army will continuously replete itself one bunny organism at a time.....or once a month (Rabbits have a gestation period of 31 days!).<br />
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You can continuously churn out the little buggers, (Rabbits can start breeding as early as 3-4 months) and unlike cows and pandas, you don't need to mess with the genetics. (I considered a cow army, but having the entire Indian army commencing worship whilst the Taliban slaughtered them for dinner seemed counter productive...besides, I love a good steak <i>waaay</i> too much). <br />
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<div><div style="background-color: transparent; border: medium none; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">The great armies of lore were mating machines...in the raping pillaging sort of way; basically they were very virile. If you ever meet a blue eyed chap from the subcontinent, odds are that several dozen generations ago their grandmother had a semen spilling romp with a Greek Legionnaire. Rabbits, are also mating machines quick and repetitive.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZKgzyVVwpI4Ce0L3SHeUdM_uK8MEg9mTmUB40afhGoYgdvvrlX31XYhL21vPLPwkTZXmPZqv8JKMlwiumYnoix8pz50efpevJoDU3JnRe4X0yUQ8tacqbDZ3tGo1I3Q0Vs0-3JesE6-G/s1600/imagedds.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPZKgzyVVwpI4Ce0L3SHeUdM_uK8MEg9mTmUB40afhGoYgdvvrlX31XYhL21vPLPwkTZXmPZqv8JKMlwiumYnoix8pz50efpevJoDU3JnRe4X0yUQ8tacqbDZ3tGo1I3Q0Vs0-3JesE6-G/s1600/imagedds.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
For those who want to know: The male rabbit will sniff the female and hop around her. Once she lies on her stomach, the male rabbit will mount her. A few quick thrusts later, a premature ejaculation later, bugs will emit a squeal and fall to one side of her. The rabbits will then rest, only to repeat the process several more times with a gutso...till preggers is achieved.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxR3s9jOrF_9Ncjm_ekcsN7kw9drzeIOMdtWsBiUwANfxPv0joldkQioSY9DAjfm1mSNoc8eqFE9ol4tyU2VPhv-PJR49RtztpEEXvR8QC9MtrQJNQC8s-ZlvHxbwLZSh6ygqJwQs4Mp_0/s1600/Demotivational-pictures-bugs_Bunny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxR3s9jOrF_9Ncjm_ekcsN7kw9drzeIOMdtWsBiUwANfxPv0joldkQioSY9DAjfm1mSNoc8eqFE9ol4tyU2VPhv-PJR49RtztpEEXvR8QC9MtrQJNQC8s-ZlvHxbwLZSh6ygqJwQs4Mp_0/s320/Demotivational-pictures-bugs_Bunny.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div></div>In addition to fooling hunters the world over, Rabbits can purr similar to a cat, hence which makes them exceedingly useful for covert operations. <br />
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They'll also eat their enemies, if that doesn't inspire fear, I dunno what will.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0Ua75sNAn3-WON7lckg4WElrUDt74OhiItztDuUkLLmpdenmz3mU36UAzoyWlivxDXTpQ63S53ETl1iIMJiIkKomHvFvmhJao3OYJCM-7Ih_fZZuxrMg6k1AK-2vp6Ui4DT0cVe5paK-/s1600/derby11_Beware_the_killer_rabbit_of.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0Ua75sNAn3-WON7lckg4WElrUDt74OhiItztDuUkLLmpdenmz3mU36UAzoyWlivxDXTpQ63S53ETl1iIMJiIkKomHvFvmhJao3OYJCM-7Ih_fZZuxrMg6k1AK-2vp6Ui4DT0cVe5paK-/s1600/derby11_Beware_the_killer_rabbit_of.jpg" /></a></div><br />
If you've ever tried to blast a rabbit, you'll have noticed that they move really tricky quick (maxing out at 35 mph), changing direction all the time; they're just damn hard to pin down to get a clean shot at. Ask Elmer Fudd or just watch a few episodes of Bugs Bunny....and that's despite Rabbits have a blind spot infront of their adorable noses. Pesky but adorable rabbit indeed. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkuGcCvmdF8kiSscMHx20zhHuC6fqvqu9didh5tfoj6xm1_MdLZ0kSwOZ8UrtGljcHCVhg18M-e-34yNux0v1SIPgdW-d5k9WXsxT5AJc-UJMg0W9-qjn5Hest0hAK5m57kMFzLV7l-yO/s1600/elme-fudd-bugs-bunny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixkuGcCvmdF8kiSscMHx20zhHuC6fqvqu9didh5tfoj6xm1_MdLZ0kSwOZ8UrtGljcHCVhg18M-e-34yNux0v1SIPgdW-d5k9WXsxT5AJc-UJMg0W9-qjn5Hest0hAK5m57kMFzLV7l-yO/s1600/elme-fudd-bugs-bunny.jpg" /></a></div>Riot police have the unfortunate reputation for kicking the shit out of protesters. A force of Bunnies would make the rage riddled mob mellow down in a spate of 'aws' and 'oohs'.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupvSCKqDiV9gS2I4ugmGXQ5r4dG8mhGRFiTJoZb1dMr-0Yjb8Q1wRKspRQpFjWWAzo0V-wz-zJqEdyWMmyn3K6M_9Y6gMgu1e0DKkmbpPArEjpgPZ49-H0nULPlviuLlWKWbMWs_wxwnv/s1600/white_rabbits2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhupvSCKqDiV9gS2I4ugmGXQ5r4dG8mhGRFiTJoZb1dMr-0Yjb8Q1wRKspRQpFjWWAzo0V-wz-zJqEdyWMmyn3K6M_9Y6gMgu1e0DKkmbpPArEjpgPZ49-H0nULPlviuLlWKWbMWs_wxwnv/s320/white_rabbits2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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If that doesn't work, they bunnies can coated in weed (the chillllllll out kind). The mob would completely forget what they were upset about and simply resort to feeding the fluff muffin warm blooded bunnies some nice peeled carrots.If that doesn't work, keep the genetically enhanced Mc Donalds Human Flesh Easting killer bunnies Parachute Division as backup.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMnY4mEY3PXMsz40pTSeLhbDNUwdbdzF9_wYL-ZXhdcE6olE17UhX8_yq0_p1dHYXY6vRB0DPoHmqAaTVIS1_EZFoRXr3dNFFe2M9dt3AmawFLyp1JIi_kjXSCLvUbPaEUpBDaQBcQpTX/s1600/bunny-man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMnY4mEY3PXMsz40pTSeLhbDNUwdbdzF9_wYL-ZXhdcE6olE17UhX8_yq0_p1dHYXY6vRB0DPoHmqAaTVIS1_EZFoRXr3dNFFe2M9dt3AmawFLyp1JIi_kjXSCLvUbPaEUpBDaQBcQpTX/s320/bunny-man.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Identity Issues; It's no secret that most young kids who get dragged into the military because they have identity issues (I think). There are over 50 established breeds of domestic rabbits....so easy to leverage that into some sort of identity crisis. The military it is. <br />
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Soldiers get into trouble when they have egregious amounts of free time. Having a Bugs Bunny army, save funds spent on the gaming rooms, swimming pools and fancy gyms. A rabbit will sleep up to 16 times a day...often with 16 different partners. It's much like a dysfunctional Mormon family. <br />
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Low Maintainance: Most Militaries require remuneration of say a salary, Bunnies, don't. Infact the only cost would be in food; We're an agricultural economy, we can grow lots of carrots and lettuce (I plan on opening a few farms and selling directly to the military). Thous shalt not skimp on the lettuce, besides, humans don't eat lettuce...unless their weight conscious and have no sense of deliciousness. Trust me, there is nothing to be gained on skimping on food...oh and don't keep a chainsaw handy. <br />
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And not only do they groom themselves, they'll even eat their night crap.In case the 'handlers' are overwhelmed by the amount of poop, it's good to know that Rabbit droppings make excellent fertilizer (Did I mention anything about a farm?) <br />
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Ideal Suicide Bombers: I know no one likes the idea of suicide bombers, particularly when they're used against civilian targets, but from the Arab Assassin cult, the bomb strapping 1964 Pak-India war to the Tamil Tigers, it's a military tactic.<br />
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Most human suicide bombers require copious amounts of brain washing. Since we eat Rabbit's, it's not like we're condemning ourselves to hell....well, maybe PETA hell. They're totally disposable; I know they're cute, but c'mon they don't think beyond their next meal or next available copulation period. Strap on a cute terrain neutral suicide bomber jacket and you have your ideal operative.<br />
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Quick, nifty, disposable and completely dumb.You also save on the brain washing costs. Not to mention you can make your enemy feel like wusses for being afraid of cute, albeit deadly bunnies. <br />
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Alternatively, if you can make a Rabbit swallow the explosives, you are in luck; Rabbits can't vomit. Something to do with a God given gag reflex (I just made that up, no idea why). Hell, if that doesn't work, you don't mess with Bug's Bunnies. They'll use your bones to pick your perpetually growing teeth. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKHUcXqfXh0pStNNyVpXyZqjfu441zzvXu_M-rHZ174vtDQFGdRD9g82Ot-iQKXUDQhAaQ4ydqh8a_aF8NG2epmN_ETvcsSlQUwCp-eHgx9KgLNS6XAEgGQC7yBesbaDGkmA2FuIW4E2i/s1600/fkiller_rabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnKHUcXqfXh0pStNNyVpXyZqjfu441zzvXu_M-rHZ174vtDQFGdRD9g82Ot-iQKXUDQhAaQ4ydqh8a_aF8NG2epmN_ETvcsSlQUwCp-eHgx9KgLNS6XAEgGQC7yBesbaDGkmA2FuIW4E2i/s400/fkiller_rabbit.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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If this well thought out recruitment strategy doesn't work out and you're wondering what you're going to do with your horde of Rabbits, it's useful to note that rabbit meat is a pure all white meat lower in fat, cholesterol and calories than chicken, pork and beef.<br />
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If it doesn't taste right, that's what ketchup and hot sauce are for. Bunny Kebabs! Tastier than the Bun Kebabs.<br />
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Armies are expensive, and the costs keep spiralling up each technology discovery (plus kickback) at a time. In Pakistan, with the added risk of military coups, the question becomes when does it stop being worth having one of the largest armies in the world? Does it really do more good than harm? Are we really safer? I dunno, I just like the idea of an army of Bug's Bunnies. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYOEtACO2r0YwHOIURTKhvlM2LOD7N39yMlZ4OHpWmkl4GxhX5YDEg1BQQBd0ZQNmKggfjoZCLDQGgKk-Pdq9UTPhWJ0QrNmpdPSiKQ2IrLrO1T4w-2m0rAna3_2MUhbvi7lRqv6rj7e4/s1600/attack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYOEtACO2r0YwHOIURTKhvlM2LOD7N39yMlZ4OHpWmkl4GxhX5YDEg1BQQBd0ZQNmKggfjoZCLDQGgKk-Pdq9UTPhWJ0QrNmpdPSiKQ2IrLrO1T4w-2m0rAna3_2MUhbvi7lRqv6rj7e4/s400/attack.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-76836153918140280532010-09-21T03:46:00.000-07:002010-09-21T04:05:07.627-07:00Pakistan: Auditioning A New Sport<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3yky9s2eqzy_v7vOriqjiMw4msne5cGRIK6CvW-TOVlbI66lx1iTx0VlG-vuHH7obKJkjnAiyQSK7XWg1oiCwFvlCkJibbTTnB8vqLFAAy5GNcPK2HdrFX7-rxoL7EIRjL2NjRFjRXtI/s1600/12sld4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF3yky9s2eqzy_v7vOriqjiMw4msne5cGRIK6CvW-TOVlbI66lx1iTx0VlG-vuHH7obKJkjnAiyQSK7XWg1oiCwFvlCkJibbTTnB8vqLFAAy5GNcPK2HdrFX7-rxoL7EIRjL2NjRFjRXtI/s400/12sld4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Suddenly due to the lack of anything mildly related to cricket in our near future (our tour in England was considered a 'Home Series'), it appears that we now have a gargantuan amount of free time on our hands.</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">In order to recover from the obvious emotional and yes physical turmoil of the scandal, I feel that is is imperative that we decisively reallocate our inherent obsessive sporting fanaticism to a new sport to obsess over, with rampant unemployment, power outages and now floods, it's not like we have much to occupy our time. The question is what?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKWH8ozrJMD-tJucbNZCcJldyfmWkybGaYBpM1cx8pqenYsKW0Z9raDlLhtwDxHhUQj0BsX3pZhAH70CYdmCIivFAkS3OOuV17Ejn8kbxAL9I61lRe7EtNHBjEVviiKWBWGLHhhLqt1vw/s1600/Kabaddi_1214916c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKWH8ozrJMD-tJucbNZCcJldyfmWkybGaYBpM1cx8pqenYsKW0Z9raDlLhtwDxHhUQj0BsX3pZhAH70CYdmCIivFAkS3OOuV17Ejn8kbxAL9I61lRe7EtNHBjEVviiKWBWGLHhhLqt1vw/s400/Kabaddi_1214916c.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Kabaddi: Men grabbing other men in a mud pit.....(Insert Pathan Joke Here)<br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass; Something about watching a sport that focuses on fat semi-nude men is lacks appeal unless (insert Pathan Joke Here). I'll completely support any female variation of the sport, though I think a jello pool would make it far more watchable. Women's rights and all that.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5MTfy9UUB-WXM8x4peDS5qxQFTvi1oep8Yc5JXbskWu0hhtKcmHQ-bi_z52hVKMacfOxu57t2PmPGwpHWyHErkR5I-u2kVGJET-1UGnyltYNUdnFNy280e2k3mLmF2jvEUHCmgDYshln/s1600/world_wrestling_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw5MTfy9UUB-WXM8x4peDS5qxQFTvi1oep8Yc5JXbskWu0hhtKcmHQ-bi_z52hVKMacfOxu57t2PmPGwpHWyHErkR5I-u2kVGJET-1UGnyltYNUdnFNy280e2k3mLmF2jvEUHCmgDYshln/s320/world_wrestling_large.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Wrestling: Muscular men scampering around in their fashion forward tighty whitey's, somersaulting from awkward angles and pretending to get hurt. We would however, excel in the bravado and blustering aspect of the sport.....oops, it's not allowed to be called that anymore. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll pass. Apparently a Chammaaat doesn't qualify as a finishing move and evidently Pakistani' Athletes make awful liars. That and the Indian born great <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Khali">Kali </a>is rather scary chap. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1v-OdgM6xTfMqHoXQgHV5Ow_uqJ2h28bzWJ1P91p0D1EQbN2mIxkTf5g4OpHLUymf_HB81PRSZ3z9ktHCi8iNmy-DleuzJoFcB3lkp5bDeG2zcDGpVbZYR7zsQ9x1CHlszJWY66YzLYz/s1600/racing.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH1v-OdgM6xTfMqHoXQgHV5Ow_uqJ2h28bzWJ1P91p0D1EQbN2mIxkTf5g4OpHLUymf_HB81PRSZ3z9ktHCi8iNmy-DleuzJoFcB3lkp5bDeG2zcDGpVbZYR7zsQ9x1CHlszJWY66YzLYz/s320/racing.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Racing: We are a nation that loves to race our cars, motorbikes, rickshaws and ghudda garis (donkey carts). On the face of it, the sport speaks to our souls, with it's shady rules, loose morals and hypocrisy. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass. We can't afford the insurance or technical infrastructure required, besides Petrol is expensive yaar!</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58VYTddhL-JXNjlGPMFhrQxPmnak2DQVseT47L-ryq1vViQaCotlfWSs9ElmkraqAhPOEbx3_Ox9-0uv6iG30j1ng7OeiM-1HRhOeA4OBGgJEXIdet7sa99P_8dfOUZ8_wiSTJW8TPd3K/s1600/rolex-european-polo-championship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58VYTddhL-JXNjlGPMFhrQxPmnak2DQVseT47L-ryq1vViQaCotlfWSs9ElmkraqAhPOEbx3_Ox9-0uv6iG30j1ng7OeiM-1HRhOeA4OBGgJEXIdet7sa99P_8dfOUZ8_wiSTJW8TPd3K/s320/rolex-european-polo-championship.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Polo: Involves riding a horse, and hitting a ball with a large stick, on the face of it this appears like a worthy successor to cricket, particularly with the advantage of a horse doing all the work, whilst we merely chill on a saddle and swat our sticks around. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbx2RuclHbIJ4srZCVuRXmYeo-lopuJT366nrHbfDFmEbor_5jtrdB1CkzSQui1nMEI0-2o2cUYx3eD5Kt-_gWAYi7ZSIHGiNDZ5fmGaboYCzi7hzv1W4xmR6BSdV06AMDiqqe9G1MpCP/s1600/italeri-6020-golden-horde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPbx2RuclHbIJ4srZCVuRXmYeo-lopuJT366nrHbfDFmEbor_5jtrdB1CkzSQui1nMEI0-2o2cUYx3eD5Kt-_gWAYi7ZSIHGiNDZ5fmGaboYCzi7hzv1W4xmR6BSdV06AMDiqqe9G1MpCP/s320/italeri-6020-golden-horde.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass: We're not Mongols, roaming around on horseback really isn't our thing. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypby8UtgfTK8g91aH49R83ktFMIOoec2uTSKc2Kba15hCEitNlZSf3CgJ0mk05co6Jiz2TlQPN4JeV6d7QrtIrL1KxV9PDHdzibdIPZO_c0zuMwn7T2WNRUOe5jxa9ZfI_OckB9SgJi-7/s1600/groups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypby8UtgfTK8g91aH49R83ktFMIOoec2uTSKc2Kba15hCEitNlZSf3CgJ0mk05co6Jiz2TlQPN4JeV6d7QrtIrL1KxV9PDHdzibdIPZO_c0zuMwn7T2WNRUOe5jxa9ZfI_OckB9SgJi-7/s320/groups.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Surfing: With the advent of the floods, it is a sport that we could see a strong mix of participants both from the ocean dwellers; AKA Karachi. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass: As nice as it would be to have a Karachi dominated sport, we're rather scared of sharks. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI8NjjCIV6hABTVZIrGH1ekHrxrZXWmp3gjJ4j90601T_OcW2JO1z9EnBxcg170cXsjL4yAYidMZwCeYBmjGaDYFBU-Bq0IN5JUoDfSpKEEUhwOJ6zOQeh7_Czv-V4QnIQaelbt0SDr1b/s1600/punch-out.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI8NjjCIV6hABTVZIrGH1ekHrxrZXWmp3gjJ4j90601T_OcW2JO1z9EnBxcg170cXsjL4yAYidMZwCeYBmjGaDYFBU-Bq0IN5JUoDfSpKEEUhwOJ6zOQeh7_Czv-V4QnIQaelbt0SDr1b/s320/punch-out.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Boxing: A great sport that a Muslim, Muhammad Ali actually has dominated. So there is a sense of legacy in picking up the mantle and beating the Allah right into the infidel (if they don't agree with us, they're all infidels).<br />
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Verdict: We'll Pass: we greatly treasure our fabulous good looks. Besides, something distinctly Un-Islamic about punching another Muslim. Boxing matches with the Kaffirs on the other hand.....</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY9eFzFjW25dcRn46QIONOxdHqfgaHW_KdSjbLQcy3tdfax1yeZHdoQZen7EYg-B5rG3bxr22Nqje00hqSfTmkIy0PF5Y4kUDBWXSiL7HHytUtFIR4k-vV2DZ1QutMWFlrDGbGoOOxyTs/s1600/aisampeschke_290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY9eFzFjW25dcRn46QIONOxdHqfgaHW_KdSjbLQcy3tdfax1yeZHdoQZen7EYg-B5rG3bxr22Nqje00hqSfTmkIy0PF5Y4kUDBWXSiL7HHytUtFIR4k-vV2DZ1QutMWFlrDGbGoOOxyTs/s320/aisampeschke_290.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Tennis: A passionate sport, which quite frankly the average Pakisani cares little about. Sorry Aisam Ul Haq Note: Pakistani Tennis 'Champion' Aisam Ul Haq....a rather nice boy who likes to play with Indians because no one else likes him enough to play with him.<br />
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Verdict: We'll Pass, There is far too much running involved. Unless Shoaib Malik decides to team up with Sania Mirza, then we'll re visit the issue. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Golf: Haha, Just kidding. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYeT4IajUBiLgREG7iU9iZ5jIQBzhMDL9jhDeOtsJQDaEAo2v3ofOPR9HzLMPlxfKC3gH0NPdzB8XdU42FRcTuP1pu8PGucwQve_1eKVzBErxh6FOuCJ_yikUCEj8Bhl_wa0V4kYzyR82/s1600/Rugby.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrYeT4IajUBiLgREG7iU9iZ5jIQBzhMDL9jhDeOtsJQDaEAo2v3ofOPR9HzLMPlxfKC3gH0NPdzB8XdU42FRcTuP1pu8PGucwQve_1eKVzBErxh6FOuCJ_yikUCEj8Bhl_wa0V4kYzyR82/s320/Rugby.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Rugby: A Manly sport complete with a suicidal lack of body Armour and padding, that involves hustling through a field with opponents having rather demon like characteristics.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXPJ1kWo_xwaZpU0x44BRFTvvuI-tHxTFkyDp_3W2nx1Lp4MCos_5ni2wc0y5B0pLZQAW96XbonWHrHlX8v1lIRBgLDDKHFib-7nYHCTVeh_p6aC6l6X_tlLuiuk3NmxIskOnQYClC09z/s1600/bs16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXPJ1kWo_xwaZpU0x44BRFTvvuI-tHxTFkyDp_3W2nx1Lp4MCos_5ni2wc0y5B0pLZQAW96XbonWHrHlX8v1lIRBgLDDKHFib-7nYHCTVeh_p6aC6l6X_tlLuiuk3NmxIskOnQYClC09z/s320/bs16.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass; It goes against our religious principles to fight with Demons. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTmBusmj-H13f788v-kMOKni_2eUoo2eUw43tRRms4SbWoP2uSx9wFnL0-qaIyeXnsHnVXUTFR-g8GKzw8Zsu48od9YZkMMYnO_cpznag11p1XJgBXjAhfhfNJWT-WD_iUJpofBAcEyxy/s1600/DDR.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTmBusmj-H13f788v-kMOKni_2eUoo2eUw43tRRms4SbWoP2uSx9wFnL0-qaIyeXnsHnVXUTFR-g8GKzw8Zsu48od9YZkMMYnO_cpznag11p1XJgBXjAhfhfNJWT-WD_iUJpofBAcEyxy/s320/DDR.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Dance Dance Revolution: Our wedding culture oriented showcases have already developed an envious array of already trained talent to excel in this vicious dangerous sport.....<br />
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Verdict: We'll Pass, we don't need another Punjabi dominated team. Besides, we don't put put our women on display. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xd8Cump1ujHOENwlrlzG63Q1THvjcxTLbOITeaHbDAwklGO1lqZP-VhWTv_SYcnChKWBwtm6YAYYG8UHFWOwFQClzPTZW83__L4el3YEQVZ_2VK7pR4OahyphenhyphenKjDWk6DjlX76NDPqFhu58/s1600/Girls+Hockey.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xd8Cump1ujHOENwlrlzG63Q1THvjcxTLbOITeaHbDAwklGO1lqZP-VhWTv_SYcnChKWBwtm6YAYYG8UHFWOwFQClzPTZW83__L4el3YEQVZ_2VK7pR4OahyphenhyphenKjDWk6DjlX76NDPqFhu58/s320/Girls+Hockey.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Hockey: Former World Champions, now we humiliate ourselves when ever we play.....<br />
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Verdict: We'll Pass, don't be silly, we suck at Hockey, the only hockey sticks Pakistani's generally own are used for um...other purposes that would come under the category of self defense. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIkAcRsI6JGhWSBqQ_4ibYQPo2U0vEozemTl7KYg4a0iPmwoAiBJ6VZ7DHAKVYO8jglHzZAQVnWnnZcQS3rMm6J9xGLm8W4ssZG0BhI4km2UoROGGMB5Tru78MX8iZoa1uJeS4ig2RGu_/s1600/_41350955_lincou.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPIkAcRsI6JGhWSBqQ_4ibYQPo2U0vEozemTl7KYg4a0iPmwoAiBJ6VZ7DHAKVYO8jglHzZAQVnWnnZcQS3rMm6J9xGLm8W4ssZG0BhI4km2UoROGGMB5Tru78MX8iZoa1uJeS4ig2RGu_/s320/_41350955_lincou.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Squash: A sport steeped in the legacy of both Jansher and Jehangir Khan. Ever since then we've let it fizzle out....because we don't actually care. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll Pass; we barely liked it when we dominated it. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrzjO8WpLTislTG-1KtZhuhUqzV1kbh9VZmG-rq1htr-9S6WY7yUBujBVhCwApGVGc5JAkxyzYVMZO2KnEtozbe25i-078GXd8Fij9KeSBzB1IyF9MmqvmfvX3_Ha37oqxTEXxzFbOXC2/s1600/soccer-player-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBrzjO8WpLTislTG-1KtZhuhUqzV1kbh9VZmG-rq1htr-9S6WY7yUBujBVhCwApGVGc5JAkxyzYVMZO2KnEtozbe25i-078GXd8Fij9KeSBzB1IyF9MmqvmfvX3_Ha37oqxTEXxzFbOXC2/s320/soccer-player-1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Football/Soccer: The beautiful game, a sport where everyone already makes so much money that Match Fixing is out of the question and the idea of Performance adjusting borders on wishful thinking. We can however alter the performance of the Football world by restricting our exports of top quality footballs to the world. <br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">Verdict: We'll .....be Perfect at it! Now all we have to do is find folks who play the game as ardently as we'll be watching it. In order to speed up the process let's throw some money at some Brazilian Street urchins. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin: 0px;">We are all looking for the Perfect Pakistani sport, a sport whose representatives will make us proud of our sporting culture. The truth is that our athletes' talents, morals and deficiencies all reflect what is in every Pakistani, including the artful hypocrisy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-e9yMJ0_iU5espw7eE5HxN1HCAkFUNpbtwdwkKhlpJMewUDEAsoAZlgrW5rRSUnnWhRO5h81IdECP8fAxpYx4j3SJmYrLXIIDo49GwkYNjEmlGYyS2RF30WUtm6PXgxb4Nz8RCh3NaNv0/s1600/80770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-e9yMJ0_iU5espw7eE5HxN1HCAkFUNpbtwdwkKhlpJMewUDEAsoAZlgrW5rRSUnnWhRO5h81IdECP8fAxpYx4j3SJmYrLXIIDo49GwkYNjEmlGYyS2RF30WUtm6PXgxb4Nz8RCh3NaNv0/s320/80770.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Until we choose to be different, they won't be either. Cricket may well yet be our future, but the fault isn't in the sport. It's in every single one of us, we just choose to ignore it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpFOje7zX1H27axKOTj7TjV769WPkz-kfRccBp5CSB1TQyk02k7HlOoUfx-6Ixb1ZuIAE7cGayTLWJNb4dpG3E5tPoZeLCcsD1_5jaSFR6NlzcFhdb1wZOiHwKIdf1aGUfw3EeZxKUhd/s1600/activities.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6MpFOje7zX1H27axKOTj7TjV769WPkz-kfRccBp5CSB1TQyk02k7HlOoUfx-6Ixb1ZuIAE7cGayTLWJNb4dpG3E5tPoZeLCcsD1_5jaSFR6NlzcFhdb1wZOiHwKIdf1aGUfw3EeZxKUhd/s320/activities.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Maybe all we need to do is hire some mildly attractive girls to be interested in the sport and we can create a following. Sure worked for Beach Volleyball.<br />
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A version of this piece was published at <a href="http://blog.dawn.com/2010/09/15/in-search-of-a-new-sport/">Dawn.com </a></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-33965860144311157462010-09-16T03:42:00.000-07:002010-09-16T04:45:46.561-07:00EID! EID!....oh Miserable Eid.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5ocbV20B0Cu55rrcFMMTgEc5Rs5BuD1rKwPuUKYABXIRbp6rzGZ7Rk_UVv4wLK10iDvrwLGF5a5orUA1Qi2MaawuJFTwSWl-8d5oLQcYug-Dj7PuO6Ne-S1N7Hq7-g8zYZyNVwT0uZXA/s1600/eidmubarak10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm5ocbV20B0Cu55rrcFMMTgEc5Rs5BuD1rKwPuUKYABXIRbp6rzGZ7Rk_UVv4wLK10iDvrwLGF5a5orUA1Qi2MaawuJFTwSWl-8d5oLQcYug-Dj7PuO6Ne-S1N7Hq7-g8zYZyNVwT0uZXA/s400/eidmubarak10.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Now, I'm usually the sort of guy who is all for anything resembling a holiday, hell, I even get excited during half-work days (cheap thrills, I realize), so a four day Eid weekend should theoretically be celebrated with a gusto bordering on a three day Depeche Mode rave at the Play boy mansion...or a Pakistan sports team actually winning something*; it's been a while, I can go either way.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTwGcnY6KxTCk1RWizYy72nsmucOFGZEKcgwVrlgsCp1bxI3UMcxZpprsYDZFgliRfOqKyxO3MHj4RdQW-NicMci4miD7NMtk5HoHqPhoAt2l3nXf_IRFHKUfdErCwYRigazBPcg-UzrNW/s1600/First+Loser.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV96iSeu0lFYrPbwPIKaT1jL5sU629a5B2k-oCYuOVbaayalcGxOAvFQpXZoqHi9Hivtc6llPY02ZybcL5EjxaCXtWeyeNTkYiMEui_4ISXINqKydKRLnPzwFmqvMpTSxZkSpUR-a8thy0/s1600/Aisam-ul-Haq-And-Rohan-Bopnna.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*Aisam Ul Haq; <a href="http://www.people.ubr.com/sports/by-first-name/d/dale-earnhardt/dale-earnhardt-quotes/second-place-is-just.aspx">"Second Place is First Loser"</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
There is just something about THIS Eid, that didn't sit well with me. Whether it's the flood victims, incompetent corrupt officials, cricket scandals, or the lack of world peace (apparently really matters to all the Miss World Candidates; how can I not support their passion?)<br />
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I used to like Eid as a kid, the (theoretically) cool gifts, envelopes <strike>theoretically</strike> full of money and everyone lining up to tell you how great you are (thankfully that aspect hasn't changed). Now that the shoe is on the other foot (Damn <i>having </i>to Grow Up!), I'm rather less enthralled by the process.<br />
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Maybe one should get stacks of 5 rupee notes and give them out 100 bucks at a time. It'll look way cooler and keep the Hounds off my trail....particularly as my strategy entails throwing the said notes up in the air like a Baller at a Casino. <br />
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Everyone is chasing you for money (by chasing, I mean chasing you down); Whether it's little rabid children, to whom you are only loosely related to, or the local sweepers who feel totally justified in banging your door down all day to ask for Eidhi (after all, after a year of neglect they finally cleaned your street the previous month); everyone who sees you is just excited to augment Eid Cash Hoardings.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVu4J7rzxmO9Yc_VKbWMUUNRyY4fpXYtlNAkBy00pMp8x4XaqzCeifCwIGV1iFwDs71UlwVSS6ePqF-IOLZJYLyoeOS02kMc5GKn00Cq1XSYof7KK-cc4_S2G70m9ZU-7PgEcIZ3T3RK5y/s1600/park-600x430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVu4J7rzxmO9Yc_VKbWMUUNRyY4fpXYtlNAkBy00pMp8x4XaqzCeifCwIGV1iFwDs71UlwVSS6ePqF-IOLZJYLyoeOS02kMc5GKn00Cq1XSYof7KK-cc4_S2G70m9ZU-7PgEcIZ3T3RK5y/s320/park-600x430.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Now I know I shouldn't mind, I make decent money and get a fair amount of cash for Eid, but something about the expectation of doling out dough that annoys and ruins the gift giving act to me. Particular when it erupts into a dollar denominated tsunami of who collected or gave more Eidhi; personally I'd rather stay in the former category, but alas more wishful thinking on my part (did I mention how awesome world peace is?).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnGI7-SyTvP2BBk-DcGb5NNlkth7etIQk6gi3uaAIEgZZME1TusEkU0OyOjgomlehIm1AvyrXw7M4L_Ua_EJU_n1WDBMGRDEHT6W3QtbSN_E8W6pAznbtEFdr2KeykdtNHHXsuiObYq6w/s1600/oman-eid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnGI7-SyTvP2BBk-DcGb5NNlkth7etIQk6gi3uaAIEgZZME1TusEkU0OyOjgomlehIm1AvyrXw7M4L_Ua_EJU_n1WDBMGRDEHT6W3QtbSN_E8W6pAznbtEFdr2KeykdtNHHXsuiObYq6w/s320/oman-eid.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Itchy Brand New Clothes: I am a terrible shopper. The only new clothes I've bought since I've come back to Pakistan are office shirts (I look very snazzy thank you very much). I really don't need yet another Eid occasion Shalwar kameez that has to suffer my complete awkwardness.<br />
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Odds are I won't wear it for the rest of the year. Sadly, it's almost always the kind that makes my body shake like a fire ant attack.I never get into that 'breaking it in' phase. I'm a waste of a good overpriced Shalwar Kameez.<br />
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Women tend to take Eid to a whole new level of wardrobe hell. how many Naked Sheep have they left in their wake I can only imagine..... There is winter wear, wedding wear, summer wear and Eid wear. Eid is twice a year and lasts a combined total of less than a week. And let's not pretend they judge each other like they were on <strike>America</strike>'s Satan's Next Top Model.<br />
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Graveyard: I understand that it's important to pay one's respect to the dead, but it seems odd to go from somber grieving to the Desi equivalent of a house party. Who came up with that?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nSO_dAyF4yLx0Z3-rWcy1zud9RSaUzJ70IIlTH0ig60iMtf4XUJZm4oBH5hMPa9B6EVbRIdppBlgXSfOva7tVRRnhZOpEiloCwuI_6y93Nxk-l3YaXTR6R8PPkpjVs1aMUEtl_YhvStW/s1600/Prayers.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6nSO_dAyF4yLx0Z3-rWcy1zud9RSaUzJ70IIlTH0ig60iMtf4XUJZm4oBH5hMPa9B6EVbRIdppBlgXSfOva7tVRRnhZOpEiloCwuI_6y93Nxk-l3YaXTR6R8PPkpjVs1aMUEtl_YhvStW/s1600/Prayers.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
Eid Prayers: I and every other Muslim male (Fair occasion Muslims or otherwise) wake up earlier on Eid than on any typical work day (going to bed at 3am because of Chaand Raat doesn't help matters either). How does that come under the definition of a holiday?<br />
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Last I checked holidays were for sleeping in. Since Eid gives the mosque it's largest (incidently most apathetic) annual audience, the resident Cleric feels obligated to treat us all with the longest sermon humanly possible at 7 am in the morning. He calls it providing guidance, I call it Cheap Disposable Eidhi.<br />
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Germs: We are a country that strongly believes in the romantic ideals of Personal Space. On Eid, you hug everyone in sight and shake their hands like they cured cancer. If by some miracle you didn't get sick during ramzan, during Eid it's definitely a miracle if you don't catch something from the barbarian horde of germ swapping huggers.<br />
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If anyone has a hugging fetish, celebrating Eid naturally fits the bill. Why someone doesn't take the day off and set up a street stall selling Sanitizer is beyond me.<br />
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City Tour: I love Karachi, but just because I love my city doesn't mean I enjoy the scenic jaunts to slums like North Nazimabad (just kidding, I hate it because it's far). On a holiday, I rather stay at home or go somewhere that's well....fun. Egregious notion on my part, I realize. Maybe next year I'll get a tour bus...or just invest in a GPS. <br />
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Mithai Overload: I love Sawwayya <a href="http://indianrecipes-simpleandeasy.blogspot.com/2007/01/savayya-vermicelli-noodles.html">(vermicelli noodles)</a> as much as the next Pakistani, infact I often <i>thought </i>I could eat an entire Harry Potter Cauldron full of the stuff.<br />
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However, wishful thinking translated into my male testosterone compelling me to try (read succeed) to finish the vat. But by my 7th innappropriately large bowl I realize that I may have both clogged my arteries and ravaged my taste buds to such an extent that they could hardly differentiate between munching an apple and consuming toxic waste.<br />
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Now, if there really is a sugar shortage (I'm all about the Zionists being behind everything) and has accordingly become obscenely expensive, then why is everyone being loaded up with enough sugar to inflict diabetes to a 5 year old. I'm confident that if we skip Eid for a year, we'll have enough sugar to last a few sweet tea enfused decades.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF4JMmmJWHQU3saat2c1XwVFrPYUN8kEWIlSVvDFL0Ahcj1KnDjXv1VjCHPJsxyCIjVdvjAJnwlWxSJUnlh9vDL5Y2FuFbpOfZOY2-ARmxTje3IUb4HyPJLLKdSjRCvAk6J3iZElU8p5B/s1600/overeating-obesity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmF4JMmmJWHQU3saat2c1XwVFrPYUN8kEWIlSVvDFL0Ahcj1KnDjXv1VjCHPJsxyCIjVdvjAJnwlWxSJUnlh9vDL5Y2FuFbpOfZOY2-ARmxTje3IUb4HyPJLLKdSjRCvAk6J3iZElU8p5B/s320/overeating-obesity.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Over eating: You spend the entire holy month of Ramadan being famished; you don't eat all day, your stomach accordingly compresses and shrinks to the size of a baby fist; and then we decide that we should celebrate the imbalance by eating enough food to feed a family of elephants......every hour or so.<br />
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There is nothing worse than stuffing one's post fasting pea pod of a stomach with an insane variety and quantity of food at iftaari; then Eid comes along and I'm reminded that atleast during Ramadan, it's acceptable to stop eating without offending the world in general.It's not what do you want to eat, it becomes a how much can someone charmingly jam down your throat without causing a leech splattering tummy explosion. <br />
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Mehndi: That CRAP STINKS! It's poop colored muck that its odd patterns all over a girls hands and arms. How does that connect to festivity??? Is their a mud wrestling extravaganza that I'm not invited to? And what's with the bangles? All I hear about how flimsy they are and how they keep breaking after the first 35 hugs of the day!<br />
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Usually, when Eid comes around, we think of the things we want, be it treats, or an assortment of cool gifts, and hey maybe even that electronic extravagence that you had been saving up for. I'm no different, but for some strange reason I didn't want an Eid complete with a shiny new phone or a riddiculously awesome TV (I wouldn't say no), I wanted something that I know that I wouldn't get.<br />
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I really wanted some Pakistani Leaders that aren't charismatically flawed pieces of stinking horse shit. That would make me strikingly happy and make it feel a bit more like something worth celebrating.....for everyone.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYdWQI2HYG7nksL_o5TLZHt8QNkZGCc_9Bsd53TM2t_c-Ux4PCl3bLX8ruOhyCLWFrHqDAMd0rLa0jAgUV5O06yNiTmiCxRJeoMK1wYkbAroJPy-j6doChkVU4Sp8GvPdkWkZg_90YnpW/s1600/aglite210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizYdWQI2HYG7nksL_o5TLZHt8QNkZGCc_9Bsd53TM2t_c-Ux4PCl3bLX8ruOhyCLWFrHqDAMd0rLa0jAgUV5O06yNiTmiCxRJeoMK1wYkbAroJPy-j6doChkVU4Sp8GvPdkWkZg_90YnpW/s400/aglite210.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<i><b>Oh yeah, Belated Eid Mubarak/Rosh Hashana/Holidays Peeps! </b></i><br />
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Congratulations, we can totally do the opposite of what we were supposed to be doing in Ramzan without feeling like abnormally bad Muslims. The whole wasting my time on useless activities was really getting to me. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCRSeYjpgPRmYxEnIi0bYYOWShhBxTmNQIl-rVCPPEWNzHeOEwmvlSu4gD6wjlPgshtWeznA5cxe_OXLee0SHRSbNoHR9e4T2pSZAzk9pku2lVHuHq-K1CtH1eeIjIAjenAkNm8y9I2zd/s1600/RamadanCode.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCRSeYjpgPRmYxEnIi0bYYOWShhBxTmNQIl-rVCPPEWNzHeOEwmvlSu4gD6wjlPgshtWeznA5cxe_OXLee0SHRSbNoHR9e4T2pSZAzk9pku2lVHuHq-K1CtH1eeIjIAjenAkNm8y9I2zd/s400/RamadanCode.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Proof that Hip Computer Literate Clerics Exist: The Truth is Out There....<i>Waaaay </i>Out There</b></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-56156016034709733772010-09-08T23:30:00.000-07:002010-09-08T23:30:40.805-07:0010 Ways to Lose a Pakistani Girl<div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
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How does one get rid of a Pakistani girl? You've had your fun, the relationship has run its course, and you want to break up without being the one to do the actual breaking up. Contrary to popular beliefs it's not just picking inane fights, here are some methods that I've noticed to be particularly effective.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3jlANHBMBLJcjjnlQMtJWMsImVZNxsX96Rm7OKdreojPldRTHTx1mBY3QXKC0Jc30LSGEeuAUzpZzhXCnJyduY-rLhj5DMGT8SApp6nzG-GvSbGd4ZIRzrs4TVOAUX4Ue4HXiLGXh33a/s1600/Veena-Malik1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq3jlANHBMBLJcjjnlQMtJWMsImVZNxsX96Rm7OKdreojPldRTHTx1mBY3QXKC0Jc30LSGEeuAUzpZzhXCnJyduY-rLhj5DMGT8SApp6nzG-GvSbGd4ZIRzrs4TVOAUX4Ue4HXiLGXh33a/s320/Veena-Malik1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>I call it the Muhammad Asif </b></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">1. Poor Prioritizing: Prioritize ANYTHING over her. Medical Emergencies, Family, Work and Saving Accounts are not excluded.....unless of course they are hers. Pakistani women, have some sort of skewed perception that their partners world revolves around them. Considering our nation's abysmal productivity levels, that may as well be true. Make her your temporary number 2 and she'll permanently remove you from her life with the delicacy of a kabaddi match. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiFGWSG41IARLVyewyuivDSTm9g9IfrDPUL3Q6u0Rd6uYR2E7KR3mYxz0xC0uXVKgEmOHaOP3p1DhxUYVelLQRoxIHtFexsEb0qtsWkT134q7J2s9ij2xVz_QzE1Un-h5aPZD30UcV5t7/s1600/crazy_women_back-779630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiFGWSG41IARLVyewyuivDSTm9g9IfrDPUL3Q6u0Rd6uYR2E7KR3mYxz0xC0uXVKgEmOHaOP3p1DhxUYVelLQRoxIHtFexsEb0qtsWkT134q7J2s9ij2xVz_QzE1Un-h5aPZD30UcV5t7/s320/crazy_women_back-779630.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">2. Feelings: Not being 'sensitive' enough to her feeling. It astounds us, how anyone can have </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">strong </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">feelings about Sania Mirza wearing similar clothes to yours....it's a freaking Nike shirt! What is there to feel? However, if you are interested in retaining that lady's companionship services, it is both feasible and advantageous to pretend. Otherwise, just use the words 'feelings' and 'stupid' together in as many sentences as possible. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdyMAHOHFRBLMZvaDTZE-3nw73dKavnUQUKaZZjf_uuZwEZybIvnP_qMWqlX_rOU6LoGFO97vUViVag0gZYDAcFTt7DRJnpj6ym_0NQjca28eSM-r5wkJfX5WfiXDWbfOL6ooNtaUSbkM/s1600/notlistening.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdyMAHOHFRBLMZvaDTZE-3nw73dKavnUQUKaZZjf_uuZwEZybIvnP_qMWqlX_rOU6LoGFO97vUViVag0gZYDAcFTt7DRJnpj6ym_0NQjca28eSM-r5wkJfX5WfiXDWbfOL6ooNtaUSbkM/s320/notlistening.jpg" width="211" /></a></div></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">3. Hobby Defamation: Contend that shopping isn't a worth while pursuit and is an utter waste of any sane persons time and money. The only thing Pakistani women are more passionate about than judging other people are their own wardrobes....which they use as a yardstick to judge other women. There is also great utility in discussing the size of her wardrobe with all of the barebacked kids in Africa and why she doesn't feel guilty. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZs7e2NY62TP6yGLe6tXk2gl83KTPdQTaL0Gyx2ivl4yLY4MXc7nxjixGjkKB30hRJT_pYM4DyUbCakI4JSBpphC1M1oE6buu6JNEmRcurfzfR3faT2qy4j-FsJ47AWT7ur7XvpBQq2ed/s1600/How-To-Break-Up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZs7e2NY62TP6yGLe6tXk2gl83KTPdQTaL0Gyx2ivl4yLY4MXc7nxjixGjkKB30hRJT_pYM4DyUbCakI4JSBpphC1M1oE6buu6JNEmRcurfzfR3faT2qy4j-FsJ47AWT7ur7XvpBQq2ed/s320/How-To-Break-Up.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">4. Charm School: Be rude to her friends. All the time. Girls will only date men, once their friends deem them desirable. Start referring to her friends as the Team Piglet or the Tranny Nannies, You'll be replaced rather quickly once you are not show off worthy. Also show up to group outings in a poncho.... complete with a shalwar and Bata slippers and erase the word 'sorry' from your vocabulary when you speak to her....not even if her pet passes away. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1_OGTDKzfRZSXyX3fvgZ6AWHc7RB5Z5AYNoAGzoPIJz6ghxy6wCViV8g7ET093fS1aXNCRAMhml24qqCJ6GQJzHU2gtySp1r8jCat9ftYaxg4QbsJZ4nHAvsOI9zDlm5AjNs8q4Qmplk/s1600/breaking-up.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1_OGTDKzfRZSXyX3fvgZ6AWHc7RB5Z5AYNoAGzoPIJz6ghxy6wCViV8g7ET093fS1aXNCRAMhml24qqCJ6GQJzHU2gtySp1r8jCat9ftYaxg4QbsJZ4nHAvsOI9zDlm5AjNs8q4Qmplk/s1600/breaking-up.gif" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">5. Peer Comparison: Compare your girlfriend to other women in your life. About how awesome a cook your mom is, about how wonderful your old ex-girlfriends are etc. and about how all the pretty girls at the office are so efficient, yet never have a hair out of place. Notice other women; If you really want to irritate her, tell all of her friends how </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">chikni </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">they look and how she looks '</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">sahee</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">'....and look dead serious.</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8ZWcZge-ujcKl2Hi8E26MngBNZJfI9dJAlmNszqtrrpVSro0CCnXjWLwS9UyD7ZxM-Sd2_srNK3-AxYxOZvNcrs-EUGdmR0dfr_otuzqcHspsXh7TYG_dmnZ2RUVyEWVuU6OKj6E6GjM/s1600/imwages.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8ZWcZge-ujcKl2Hi8E26MngBNZJfI9dJAlmNszqtrrpVSro0CCnXjWLwS9UyD7ZxM-Sd2_srNK3-AxYxOZvNcrs-EUGdmR0dfr_otuzqcHspsXh7TYG_dmnZ2RUVyEWVuU6OKj6E6GjM/s1600/imwages.jpeg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">6. Call her <b><i>all </i></b>the time and ask stupid questions. The dumber the better. Like that your boss used a red pen instead of the blue pen when he wrote you a note and what means....on a deep level. She'll get annoyed read fast. Note: This doesn't work if she likes answering dumb questions too. If you really want to annoy her, as he about her favorite insect, rock, hair band etc or just about any arcane topic she, in all likely hood, knows nothing about....like cricket. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGfsURXfmHlmhVABRVO3bPzKe8D4YQyKsWHNpRTyG6q2bZEK6KNuuG3WMaQtA01gzEDaQdhs1woPERPdEwuGz-AKASdcGlQYOC0Ytz96R-JJHVciyMu0o9JMILxWqWWKCL9NaU1sei9CN/s1600/july3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxGfsURXfmHlmhVABRVO3bPzKe8D4YQyKsWHNpRTyG6q2bZEK6KNuuG3WMaQtA01gzEDaQdhs1woPERPdEwuGz-AKASdcGlQYOC0Ytz96R-JJHVciyMu0o9JMILxWqWWKCL9NaU1sei9CN/s1600/july3.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">7. Time Allocation: Not being up for a 'chitty chat' at 3 in the morning, after all what loser is in bed by then. Apparently, only the worthy are cognitively functional at a drops notice, even when sleep deprived. No man knows why you have the urge to talk to us at 3 Am. When a Pakistani girl want's to talk to you, you'd better get up and talk....and pretend to care what she's talking about. If you don't then go into a tirade about you favorite sports team, eventually she'll break up or hang up on you without your noticing. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5vP2-gE9ixf7wCkYRiua8CYuZTi9BpLubYNv1lQoj6IMPsRJtlLaEF3Vqnk4YnytXtlPnyJZJ_6B5D-qEk9v_qhqwccmsw1VYNuECLL2Mdpacgdmi1k5ZQ9FU4DRZbuExQqj91nBHhXS/s1600/media_httpbitsandpiec_CfIBy.jpg.scaled500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj5vP2-gE9ixf7wCkYRiua8CYuZTi9BpLubYNv1lQoj6IMPsRJtlLaEF3Vqnk4YnytXtlPnyJZJ_6B5D-qEk9v_qhqwccmsw1VYNuECLL2Mdpacgdmi1k5ZQ9FU4DRZbuExQqj91nBHhXS/s320/media_httpbitsandpiec_CfIBy.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Generation Z Way</b><br />
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</span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">8. Question her Goals: Ask her what she wants to do with her life, and subsequently question whether she ought to be slightly more ambitious that wanting to get married and encouraging/pressuring her guy to get a big car, a big house for the sake of his own happiness. Apparently it's taboo to ask why a girl gives up her career after she gets married....even when the couple live with the guys family....and have a legion of servants.... Bad form it is. </span><br />
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9. Emit Body odors in her presence on a regular basis. Women have a unique sensitivity to their own natural odors. Men, for the most part usually can burp, fart and shoot snot balls on command. Eat lots of oily food laced liberally with garlic and drink tonnes of fizzy drinks and you should be able have the wonderful lady in question break up with you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rC4RdG1ZDNRgjlfoOTKt48f3PTHA7z45Uakrp6fJza8JKsQIGwJvQuTGVBgb_VwsXGDHYNRyUVOBtkkP7tstb3K81i3-v8yBUGYmv2TO6K1n93MRXK6b2E4iL_JXi1reRKbsrwdJmftV/s1600/CommunicationDatingMen5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rC4RdG1ZDNRgjlfoOTKt48f3PTHA7z45Uakrp6fJza8JKsQIGwJvQuTGVBgb_VwsXGDHYNRyUVOBtkkP7tstb3K81i3-v8yBUGYmv2TO6K1n93MRXK6b2E4iL_JXi1reRKbsrwdJmftV/s1600/CommunicationDatingMen5.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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10. Cheat on her: Proven to be the most effective. The closer the friend you cheat with, the higher the probability that she will break up with you. However, if she doesn't, take some respite in the fact that'll she'll do anything to keep you. You are a prize.<br />
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<b>If all else fails. Deny Her Existence and of Any Relationship that might make your Mummy Mad. </b></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-18702123434044986292010-09-06T01:56:00.000-07:002010-09-06T03:11:36.957-07:00Can't Beard The Thought<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAUAlL5Izhw7jtBSJSi1sirrwkkb-urlMghFPDxpKaUtHTZMm0y24EHXwQgXNSLCUnx2_sQUPEupBzTC36ephs5mQaz_NPewPYWDpcY_JjnQPMCJs6XGS5AflobZkk6jhosi0EmA0iQoK/s1600/beards-they-grow-on-you-t-shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAUAlL5Izhw7jtBSJSi1sirrwkkb-urlMghFPDxpKaUtHTZMm0y24EHXwQgXNSLCUnx2_sQUPEupBzTC36ephs5mQaz_NPewPYWDpcY_JjnQPMCJs6XGS5AflobZkk6jhosi0EmA0iQoK/s400/beards-they-grow-on-you-t-shirt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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I woke up one morning slightly dazed and perhaps running a wee bit late to work. I wondered if I should skip shaving for the day and just head out to work. I laughed, rolled out of bed, grabbed my trusty razor and shaving cream and slit of the offending stubble with Sumarai like ease. <br />
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I have thought about growing a beard. I can't. I just can't bear the thought of bearding up. For starters, I doubt I can grow a particularly respectable beard; I'd look awful, uneven patches and all that. Secondly, I don't want to deal with the hassle of a beard and thirdly I'm not shallow enough to need to prove to everyone how great a Muslim I am; I'm sure they're all well aware.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpBLBzsWVFp5pirnOFdLVEL3dg2M3mJXy0ivLxIWWGGpTtE9x0TrcAr7YFGQZhaiOoCgugWgBXWPl46cOCZpVemdG6PbEJ64qHz9MMYsSN2pY3URlKDMU5riu3KzvkgcBrIZW_gVTYrP_/s1600/radical_islam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpBLBzsWVFp5pirnOFdLVEL3dg2M3mJXy0ivLxIWWGGpTtE9x0TrcAr7YFGQZhaiOoCgugWgBXWPl46cOCZpVemdG6PbEJ64qHz9MMYsSN2pY3URlKDMU5riu3KzvkgcBrIZW_gVTYrP_/s320/radical_islam.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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How does one identify a good Muslim? Well, one could try to get to know him, but that just sounds like too much effort. Let's just be consistently superficial and focus on what really matters to us. Looks.<br />
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Is it his zealous eyes (lowered of course), his terrific posture (kept fit through repeated prayer) and most importantly a long flowy beard, long enough to shame dumbledore on one hand and yet still reminiscent of Fidel Castro on the other.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEnKf4FJ-cZUM3yqZNfFvpxvtqO096vdeQwqUdVctC291qC7wCDCgCw6hNTKGXTctmkqmgbHTWoRdS-5pChbINOa6RBese0-zB6IlpEcUXU5OcF-rKluKrdV1-qKxrtmqsJvgSqqH8KHp/s1600/bush_beard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkEnKf4FJ-cZUM3yqZNfFvpxvtqO096vdeQwqUdVctC291qC7wCDCgCw6hNTKGXTctmkqmgbHTWoRdS-5pChbINOa6RBese0-zB6IlpEcUXU5OcF-rKluKrdV1-qKxrtmqsJvgSqqH8KHp/s320/bush_beard.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br />
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Apparently, in order to be a good Muslim, you <i><b>have</b></i> to have a beard. Unfortunately, my french beards, pencil thin mustache strips and pubescent chin scraggle don't qualify. You need to have a solid all encompassing beard that frames your face to such an extent that covers one skin blemishes as well as provides something soft for your pets to nap on....and your parrot to lay eggs in. <br />
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Now, I'm the liberal sort of fellow and was always under the impression that in order to be a good Muslim...well...that you actually had to act like one....or preferably two, because two Muslims are better than one.<br />
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I find it offensive is when someone from Team Beard takes me to task for not having a nest sprouting from my face and feels that it is their moral imperative to convert me to their bearded ways with their eyes greedy for <i>sawab</i> much like a degenerate gambler on a hot streak.<br />
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One has to wonder, where did the sentiment is that anyone vying for the title of 'good Muslim' needs to have a beard, wear a skull cap and perhaps quote in the Quran in a language that he couldn't order a bun kebab in.<br />
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What does a beard say about a person? That he's too lazy to shave? Or think he looks dashing all furred up. I have seen beards that both suit people and some that don't. Some that are neat and others that look like they've made love to a hurricane. Regardless, if one thinks keeping a beard makes one a Muslim, then perhaps they believe that they can create a nation of Muslims by banning razor blades (I think the Afghani Taliban went down that route; sure worked out there). <br />
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A few have pointed out to me how it's Sunnah, that the Prophet had a beard; granted, but isn't it possible that he just looked really freaking good with a beard? I'm sure glad for our sanity's sake that he didn't rock out a beard braid. Seriously, did they even have a Gillette Mach II back then?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8O4lNaiwvtqkrZ0FOJCmyZ8uHkLKyezCDDW5ZQiMekm6WiYPOcTmNCQrm_ETALVearmCA3yDIRK2KHOZ2l1z0xrm18t4-OuR17wGFEVnx_9y7K2PMM2nSbEHBG2FtIT2QM1AqarO61LG0/s1600/23beard1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8O4lNaiwvtqkrZ0FOJCmyZ8uHkLKyezCDDW5ZQiMekm6WiYPOcTmNCQrm_ETALVearmCA3yDIRK2KHOZ2l1z0xrm18t4-OuR17wGFEVnx_9y7K2PMM2nSbEHBG2FtIT2QM1AqarO61LG0/s1600/23beard1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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I'd also like to point out that if we lived the same way the Prophet did, then by that same logic we'd all be brushing our teeth with a <i>siwak </i>(tooth stick) instead of toothbrushes. Anti Tooth Brush Fatwa anyone? Or better yet, we'd ban cars and ride Camel back everywhere. <br />
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Whatever happened to tolerance? Why does my clean shaven (and rather dashing) face serve to offend the religious sensibility of others? Why does it provoke at best a superiority complex and at worst, yet another self righteous fundamentalist nut job. Is it because they aren't secure in their own faith and need others' approval for reassurance. If that's the case, I implore them to visit their local chai walla and empathize over the Pakistan cricket team. We all love Chai and Cricket, it's somewhere in our constitution. Yep...the Chai, Cricket and Islam loving Republic of Pakistan.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUe1TriQ6pjtM6A5okmjRqVXgjoe_ov06bxo9mbC2mRYNQVv8HbsoLu8NcqoQoDAqBsX7MXP6bn8FDhJ2ho92Bboqm6Uu04c_JawCYL2JD66MjPu3Ckz0Li8z-aGJPeCa-60cKPbQ1ynMC/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUe1TriQ6pjtM6A5okmjRqVXgjoe_ov06bxo9mbC2mRYNQVv8HbsoLu8NcqoQoDAqBsX7MXP6bn8FDhJ2ho92Bboqm6Uu04c_JawCYL2JD66MjPu3Ckz0Li8z-aGJPeCa-60cKPbQ1ynMC/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></div><br />
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Why does it matter if I have a beard or not? I doubt God is that shallow when it comes to evaluating the worthiness of our souls. Doubt that God chose the Prophet because he could grow a particular spectacular beard. I may be unfortunately liberal but I imagine that it had something to do with what was in Prophet Muhammad (P.B.U.H) heart. That said, maybe it just seems easier to look like a muslim, rather than be a muslim; which quite frankly, beard or not, we by and large certainly suck at.Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-3531897180114907382010-08-28T19:35:00.000-07:002010-08-28T19:35:44.174-07:00Why Pakistan Why?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqokB1-jWshynWjUTFnpCl7aVmJRtBUdCVrS62105ht3jVPmo69uAdHJ8tOiZ9KNpKHbdpKFMstsm1uKSq6hhFK_Oeg8fsb6Y40HLyWrfHgL8jc2cGQcLkSS2mThkYV4H51P5xpykP6k6H/s1600/cam3_516_144468a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqokB1-jWshynWjUTFnpCl7aVmJRtBUdCVrS62105ht3jVPmo69uAdHJ8tOiZ9KNpKHbdpKFMstsm1uKSq6hhFK_Oeg8fsb6Y40HLyWrfHgL8jc2cGQcLkSS2mThkYV4H51P5xpykP6k6H/s400/cam3_516_144468a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Pakistani's don't grow up being the next Bill gates, Roger Federer, Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods or Husain Bolt, we grow up wanting to be Cricketers. And our chosen heroes are the Pakistani cricket team.</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">The living dream of every young buck lacing his gully with an array of pull, cut and various creative cross bat shots reminiscent of the likes of Saeed Anwar, Inzamam Ul Haq to name a few or perhaps bowl as fast as Shoaib Akhtar, ruthlessly as Waqar Younis and majestically as Wasim Akram. and that perhaps one day, if we were good enough, we'd play for Pakistan. Few of us do, we honor those that do above all others. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5nG9gCzDoLiO5G9Jnc6hfGgMYNmMj2eYP7pbbPW7wRznk0PNK5-jhQ3rJW7i8e_nhq6HsMGPqv7-SHww7uJD4VK7Co4oPyqu9l8WfZE0UQy4pWonhBUD2cvyAWw6uQ4jg1KhxdG2TLHz/s1600/_45956491_lahore_run_afp_766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx5nG9gCzDoLiO5G9Jnc6hfGgMYNmMj2eYP7pbbPW7wRznk0PNK5-jhQ3rJW7i8e_nhq6HsMGPqv7-SHww7uJD4VK7Co4oPyqu9l8WfZE0UQy4pWonhBUD2cvyAWw6uQ4jg1KhxdG2TLHz/s320/_45956491_lahore_run_afp_766.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">These cricketers were not merely our sportsmen, they were our heroes. We feted them, we loved them, we cherished them. We burdened them with providing us with an avenue to escape the mundaneness of our every day lives and garnering pride in Pakistan. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Our country has failed itself, and to be fair it's not all our own fault (Floods, Hurricanes, Earth Quakes), but more than enough of it is (Corruption, Mismanagement & pure incompetence). Pakistan was never perfect, but our cricket team was always there for us. Win, Lose or Draw, they were our own. Until Now. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl45lPGVIHNcHTVMFf0pmEh1JHqlQtLvXJPmVAQfDWxOkiLYqE70nDjkuE9Z3vNDiI8-z_VRlIggnAK6i1wa31wQ7Ea3Lf2thyphenhyphenFTtMzcRhk-OEFfo48HyR9o1860_XriKozLTVXwDUTOg2/s1600/Pakistan-Cricket-Match-Fixing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl45lPGVIHNcHTVMFf0pmEh1JHqlQtLvXJPmVAQfDWxOkiLYqE70nDjkuE9Z3vNDiI8-z_VRlIggnAK6i1wa31wQ7Ea3Lf2thyphenhyphenFTtMzcRhk-OEFfo48HyR9o1860_XriKozLTVXwDUTOg2/s320/Pakistan-Cricket-Match-Fixing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">A British tabloid, <a href="http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/924349/Cricket-in-the-dock-as-we-expose-betting-scandal-England-Pakistan-Test.html">The News of the World</a>, gleefully revealed the sad truth that has haunted our nation for generations, that our International Sporting Ambassadors accepted bribes in exchange for altering/shaping their performance, whether it was bowling a sequence of No-Balls or Playing out a Maiden over, it's blindingly apparent that they were all guilty. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And no, we can't blame this on a Zionist conspiracy, they don't even play cricket. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaexOq2lm61gJfrmSwbLSi9nExzPv4X3qMNMGJaM0jijJaLWOVoSGnq4_k6qf_x6sIXFq86oMYcdZ0UWTYLW2IWvIWptzmbo0UvLxkN_7LsxtdkC_WIP4shXKgQtupm6HfNZ5dFGmBsMeK/s1600/players_144458a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaexOq2lm61gJfrmSwbLSi9nExzPv4X3qMNMGJaM0jijJaLWOVoSGnq4_k6qf_x6sIXFq86oMYcdZ0UWTYLW2IWvIWptzmbo0UvLxkN_7LsxtdkC_WIP4shXKgQtupm6HfNZ5dFGmBsMeK/s320/players_144458a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">To those responsible; Our Captain (leading from the front as always), Our Wicket Keeper (poor form or just an obsessive love of money I have to wonder), Our Premier Fast Bowlers (as quick to make a buck as to bowl), I abhor you and if you were in front of me now, I'd spit of your faces and let you rot in jail; and not the Zardari kind.....</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71JaquELBjq1xWMDAIUdWAeSJrCW05JkJKmARVsipnRuA0cs2ab8CaQbAk5vJpZvzcMe9YaJZSVn5JLv9otGjNzhmewDU5xOuSFPcF6Bgw-tLWsymciInfA0tc_8VrdXEO0EGOsrsfUkC/s1600/Old+man+Pakistan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj71JaquELBjq1xWMDAIUdWAeSJrCW05JkJKmARVsipnRuA0cs2ab8CaQbAk5vJpZvzcMe9YaJZSVn5JLv9otGjNzhmewDU5xOuSFPcF6Bgw-tLWsymciInfA0tc_8VrdXEO0EGOsrsfUkC/s1600/Old+man+Pakistan.jpg" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> My heard shudders at the thought that if this just the start? I forlornly hope it's not, but I'm fairly certain that there is yet more feces yet to be flung onto our Nation's already desecrated flag. The white was already fading under the weight of intolerance but the rest grows murkier. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I'm not sure if it'll ever be the same, or that I'll ever be able to watch my team again without feeling utter disgust for the players that pretend to wear that green with anything resembling pride.</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Congratulations Team, you have sullied my faith in ALL things Pakistan. What did we do to deserve this? Could we have loved you anymore? Cheered you any louder? Supported you regardless of your pathetic effort on the pitches of our former colonial rulers? Obviously this is our fault. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Thank you for blighting every child's dream of playing for Pakistan. Apparently it's not worth anything more than a bundle of pounds packed away in a swiss bank. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">We loved you too much and now watch us hate you....with religious zeal. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoUY6mVAz5xt1ZqVyE0SLb9h_z0fTtKPm8cGKkMMFiYgLWlQC15KBsCdEh4Y3Yju3-hdmSdbfHGZcKMofrH8bLYrdkmRIEazy7OKZz02u7poHzZqSrDvpco0CaSHviRtZFisPEUykoaQ-/s1600/Pakistan-Cricket-Fan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvoUY6mVAz5xt1ZqVyE0SLb9h_z0fTtKPm8cGKkMMFiYgLWlQC15KBsCdEh4Y3Yju3-hdmSdbfHGZcKMofrH8bLYrdkmRIEazy7OKZz02u7poHzZqSrDvpco0CaSHviRtZFisPEUykoaQ-/s320/Pakistan-Cricket-Fan.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Here are some links for anyone who wants to read more on this. The bluster and inexcusability of it all sickens me. </div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/924391/The-three-balls-that-will-shake-world-of-cricket.html">http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/924391/The-three-balls-that-will-shake-world-of-cricket.html</a></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/924628/Majeed-revealed-he-was-plotting-for-Pakistan-to-lose-TWO-of-the-One-Day-Internationals.html</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">http://www.newsoftheworld.co.uk/news/924793/We-made-830k-when-Pakistan-collapsed-in-the-Aussie-match.html</div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-72023916656300162602010-08-23T09:21:00.000-07:002010-08-23T09:21:53.965-07:00Islamic Clerics: Guilty of Breast Milk Fetish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPa5m5AevC2UKRUSB9M8ZHlPNHjSHvr6ouOb8MdiuUoUjbIdQ0wn5Cl5ipQkNoDJF3pCQym8OeaembMflcyfq9u37gUfPeQwboPfTioWpFJH0MQzyFoYqJA4qNx9lys7sMgLOjCoaNLdqF/s1600/alg_adult_breastfeeding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPa5m5AevC2UKRUSB9M8ZHlPNHjSHvr6ouOb8MdiuUoUjbIdQ0wn5Cl5ipQkNoDJF3pCQym8OeaembMflcyfq9u37gUfPeQwboPfTioWpFJH0MQzyFoYqJA4qNx9lys7sMgLOjCoaNLdqF/s320/alg_adult_breastfeeding.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<i>"(June 5) -- Women in Saudi Arabia should give their breast milk to male colleagues and acquaintances in order to avoid breaking strict Islamic law forbidding mixing between the sexes, two powerful Saudi clerics have said. They are at odds, however, over precisely how the milk should be conveyed."</i><br />
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Now the mere fact that a fatwa about adult breast-feeding was deemed worthy of a 'fatwa' in the first place should be indication enough that we, somewhere have gone seriously awry...that's strange even as some <i>fatwas</i> tend to go. All of this bizarreness in order to establish "maternal relations" that would <i>obviously </i>preclude the possibility of sexual contact is crazy, even for the Muslim world. Can any Cleric issue a fatwa on anything he feels like?<br />
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</div>Our beloved <i>Mullahs </i>have already covered enough weird topics banning Pokemon (Obviously Jewish) and Sponge Bob Square pants (Atrociously Gay), so what's next? A fatwa on taking naps during work (not that I'd ever do that....and get caught). or perhaps the number of toothpicks prescribed for post meal clean up and maybe culminating in a fatwa against Football...oops they already <a href="http://www.mukto-mona.com/Articles/fatemolla/fatwa_in2005.htm">covered that one</a>. However, you are allowed to if you are training for Jihad....just saying.<br />
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<div>Then there is <a href="http://www.thenational.ae/article/20090420/FOREIGN/704199868/1002"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Misyar</span></a> , which. Sort like prostitution but without the pay off. Sweet and innovative. It's like a legalized booty call; basically like a friend with benefits and you don' t have to financially support her anymore. So it's basically 'getting it on' for "getting it on's" sake...with religious permission. There is something oddly genius about this that only a man could come up with. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzp8e-bA-gaGty2aNuFpEm8LgG2U6EeVlOfB3EPdFbJTBplrTujil9PQh37H9MNAEF7nrw4knGdTuGWzxSoEywXsBaOwpm70ehALQoXB89NZ2vYkWXc5_kG0ZyuqfF55JTiV2K087ILI_0/s1600/BreastFeedingMen.jpg_thumb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzp8e-bA-gaGty2aNuFpEm8LgG2U6EeVlOfB3EPdFbJTBplrTujil9PQh37H9MNAEF7nrw4knGdTuGWzxSoEywXsBaOwpm70ehALQoXB89NZ2vYkWXc5_kG0ZyuqfF55JTiV2K087ILI_0/s320/BreastFeedingMen.jpg_thumb.png" width="296" /></a></div><br />
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Sheikh Al Obeikan, an adviser to the Saudi royal court and consultant to the Ministry of Justice, set off a firestorm of controversy recently when he said on TV that women who come into regular contact with men who aren't related to them ought to give them their breast milk so they will be considered relatives.<br />
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"The man should take the milk, but not directly from the breast of the woman," Al Obeikan said, according to Gulf News. "He should drink it and then becomes a relative of the family, a fact that allows him to come in contact with the women without breaking Islam's rules about mixing."<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzZTOEPCMa16ypLgMnXy61poPK-BdRzlNX2u6Q6eFIFX5tpTUa2akwQkI9xHotjTFwjAANgDTUvK5oN3KRFg6KoSoOuYDZccWjInsoH2gtQgsnFYlgL3xvQEmMGBhKqNctnn-3mlix3SU/s1600/breastfeeding+poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzZTOEPCMa16ypLgMnXy61poPK-BdRzlNX2u6Q6eFIFX5tpTUa2akwQkI9xHotjTFwjAANgDTUvK5oN3KRFg6KoSoOuYDZccWjInsoH2gtQgsnFYlgL3xvQEmMGBhKqNctnn-3mlix3SU/s320/breastfeeding+poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Al Obeikan (Obi 'Yes You" Kan) made the statement after being asked on Television interview about a 2007 fatwa issued by an Egyptian scholar about adult breast-feeding, said that the breast milk ought to be pumped out and given to men in a glass.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Now, a sane person would imagine that there would be outrage or atleast a little debate. However, the only debate that followed his remarks was an announcement by another high-profile sheik, Abi Ishaq Al Huwaini (Obi Who Won...ee?), who proclaimed that men should suckle the breast milk directly from a woman's breast......(I'm Still In Shock)</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuHUKpl746U2z0I8waJuU8eo8UczZgmBMaSzuOrWtzJG3AQxP0jEvtnFS6zs6R2GxXydi5kglUXpYz43YIvLlrEWnCYuDuwgNTDY6HzbXcFo2mLChVXwlA4ukXlwxNve8iYySnJKqWhGPZ/s1600/633944098674296560-Breastfeeding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuHUKpl746U2z0I8waJuU8eo8UczZgmBMaSzuOrWtzJG3AQxP0jEvtnFS6zs6R2GxXydi5kglUXpYz43YIvLlrEWnCYuDuwgNTDY6HzbXcFo2mLChVXwlA4ukXlwxNve8iYySnJKqWhGPZ/s320/633944098674296560-Breastfeeding.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Shortly after this debate errupted, a bus driver reportedly told one of the female teachers whom he drives regularly that for religious reasons he wanted to suckle milk from her breast. The teacher has threaten to file a lawsuit against him, her family may not feel so charitable. I wonder what Egyptian Gun Laws look like?<br />
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Now, one has to wonder where this perverted <i>fatwa</i> stems from? Under Islamic law, women are encouraged to breast-feed their children until the age of 2. It is not uncommon for sisters, for example, to breast-feed their nephews so they and their daughters will not have to cover their faces in front of them later in life. The custom is called being a "breast milk sibling." (trust me, I can't make this stuff up). <br />
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But under Islamic law, breast milk siblings have to be breastfed before the age of 2 in five "fulfilling" sessions. Islam prohibits sexual relations between a man and any woman who breastfed him in infancy. They are then allowed to be alone together when the man is an adult because he is not considered a potential mate. Apparently no one tracks the google search for the term 'Milf', 'Incest' or 'breast milk fetish'....oddly enough it's a rather popular fetish. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjiIUer-ofOME-XOubSsbReugaXCI-c9k1M2yOfmJ98hZ8s00MF5aGm_ExNUAGTKz3Lu73aD6Nvf5JE-25JroaYl_Zf8VUX-b0Jxvl-t8HEyBh9esILF_-Kdh3rRMMTLMgPhCywTEBoRi/s1600/men-in-white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjjiIUer-ofOME-XOubSsbReugaXCI-c9k1M2yOfmJ98hZ8s00MF5aGm_ExNUAGTKz3Lu73aD6Nvf5JE-25JroaYl_Zf8VUX-b0Jxvl-t8HEyBh9esILF_-Kdh3rRMMTLMgPhCywTEBoRi/s320/men-in-white.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Moreover, the thought of a huge hairy face at a woman's breast does not evoke motherly or even brotherly feelings. It could go from the grotesque to the erotic but definitely not maternal."<br />
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Unlawful mixing between the sexes is taken very seriously in Saudi Arabia. In March 2009, a 75-year-old Syrian widow, Khamisa Mohammed Sawadi, living in the city of Al-Chamil, was given 40 lashes and sentenced to six months in prison after the religious police learned that two men who were not related to her were in her house, delivering bread to her. <br />
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One of the two men found in her house, Fahd, told the police that Sawadi breast-fed him as a baby so he was considered a son and had a right to be there. But in a later court ruling, a judge said it could not be proved that Fahd was her "breast milk son." Fahd was sentenced to four months in prison and 40 lashes, and the man who accompanied him got six months and 60 lashes.<br />
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The original adult breast-feeding fatwa was issued three years ago by an Egyptian scholar at Egypt's al-Azhar University, considered Sunni Islam's top university. Ezzat Attiya (Who is Zat At Eya?) was expelled from the university after advocating breast-feeding of men as a way to circumnavigate segregation of the sexes in Egypt. What can I say, he may be a freak, but he's ballsy. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTySXeuk_vatEo2-qGrMJOkjqZdJP2QbjHWT6Rtok5wuLNWyBrjtvQpBe67LGquAqOj1BCIkC53e5Cx5BIAx-qBxIuZXCIho2I6OccfnQ8IMTsXUyz0e5Om9PaVUNzMmzrIvQGNiun7h0/s1600/islam_-_uk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTySXeuk_vatEo2-qGrMJOkjqZdJP2QbjHWT6Rtok5wuLNWyBrjtvQpBe67LGquAqOj1BCIkC53e5Cx5BIAx-qBxIuZXCIho2I6OccfnQ8IMTsXUyz0e5Om9PaVUNzMmzrIvQGNiun7h0/s320/islam_-_uk.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div>Well, I do suppose it'll be more maternal if the man sucks the milk out from the woman breast. Perhaps the man should wear a diaper and the women must be obligated to talcum powder, change him and rock him to sleep. Cleaning up puke is definitely a given...As is spanking.<br />
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Are fetishes actually halal now? I imagine elbow sex, toe fetishes and ear lobes are next. Maybe even Tranny play. Do these guys ever bother issuing fatwas on things that actually matter? Like terrorism, tolerance, womens rights? How do they expect to spread the message of Islam if their primary audience appears to be sexual deviants....then again, it just might work....not.<br />
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How am I, as a (relatively) normal Muslim, supposed to take this seriously? </div></div></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-28202592905530868162010-08-15T08:03:00.000-07:002010-08-15T08:03:00.404-07:00Be Nice to Police Wallas!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5vHeWuhCjyl7aQud_15YHmkZyVJyYYcxlbk3Y656rZc4eSGGM8OnxGXRSAXAWkC9_eHFolycaRE_z2oG3so9LxZFjAj99UIGi196i41IAtUQ5v1ONesQeYv4g_XC71kRsDi1tzlxa9ej/s1600/police-pakistan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie5vHeWuhCjyl7aQud_15YHmkZyVJyYYcxlbk3Y656rZc4eSGGM8OnxGXRSAXAWkC9_eHFolycaRE_z2oG3so9LxZFjAj99UIGi196i41IAtUQ5v1ONesQeYv4g_XC71kRsDi1tzlxa9ej/s400/police-pakistan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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"Be Nice to Police Wallas." I know any Pakistani or person who has every felt wronged by our esteemed law enforcement agency will have a severe intestinal spinning reaction to this statement, but just bear with me. We Really Should be Nice to the Police, <i>especially</i> in Pakistan. Now, based on overwhelming consensus, most are corrupt and there may be a shortage of traditional honesty in the ranks, but one can contend that even the corrupt ones deserve to be treated with respect, and for the few occasions where one actually encounters an honest cop, they ought to appreciate the rarity.<br />
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Why? because frankly, they do a lot for us which we either ignore or don't appreciate their work as they are merely 'doing their jobs'.CEO's get big bonuses for good performances, police wallas get.....squat. The truth is that, we, the Pakistani populace is part of the problem. If this was a business, we'd be the annoying customers who <i>everyone </i>unequivocally hates. Let's be honest, we all love to bitch and whine about our corrupt bribe taking gun toting Cops, but we fail to consider the circumstances that they operate in. All in all, their lives suck. <br />
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Perpetually disrespected: Let's face it, no one respects the work that cops really do in terms of maintaining law and order. We have some cultural mindset defect that at the first sign of trouble we want the Rangers to be brought into the city to save us with their big guns and heavy equipment. My driver even mentioned at a recent traffic jam near the Sheraton that if the rangers were brought in to manage traffic that traffic jams would become extinct. <br />
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I'm a particular fan of the traffic police who ensure the smooth-ish flow of traffic on Karachi's law breaking roads, with the only tools at their disposal being their flapping arms and their ability to fearlessly navigate a stream of fast paced cars that insist on hitting their breaks less than a few feet away from them. And yet they stand solid in front of cars with little regard to their own well being. If this was any other profession we'd consider this grounds for dismissal on the grounds of mental health. <br />
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Bare bones authority is their modus operand um: the police get overruled on a whim by everyone. Why? Because they have no desire to get fired for correctly fining a person for breaking the law, just because the violators are well connected. In fact all you have to do is throw a few big names (the term <i>General Saahib</i> works quite well) and then they'll usually let you go. Driving an expensive imported car helps too. The only people they actually really bother are the poor and middle class, who aren't exactly flush with cash.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHQApc2KpXEBaYDkCPb1hOLYp8-_nsJd6um2QXaa7o0gAkbigEv3ML1rY_l86Tl8krM-tRAxClDsJGk6L-JfuMjEDzeu_FSzidTvsyKZe3RTywOIYkNGjeNynMD-OFQbeinO9mTVKlGPIg/s1600/0017612e4dc4ed80daf152d59a1b-grande.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHQApc2KpXEBaYDkCPb1hOLYp8-_nsJd6um2QXaa7o0gAkbigEv3ML1rY_l86Tl8krM-tRAxClDsJGk6L-JfuMjEDzeu_FSzidTvsyKZe3RTywOIYkNGjeNynMD-OFQbeinO9mTVKlGPIg/s320/0017612e4dc4ed80daf152d59a1b-grande.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Considering how little they get paid and food prices sky rocketing on a whim coupled with how dangerous their jobs are, I do to some degree sympathize with them, as much as I hate corruption on a personal level, it's difficult to imagine how else they would make their ends meet. After all, it's not like they live the Espresso Life. In fact, it's quite the opposite. <br />
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Perpetually scared for your life. Naturally, Gangsters, mobsters, looters, Taliban and the other pillaging thugs of Pakistan like nothing better than to have the police butt out of their affairs. Which the police is largely happy to do via soft understandings which may or may not include exchanges of cash/services complete with the logic that it's better for the various Mafia's to wipe each other out. Add to the fact that the mafia is usually better armed than the cops are.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBBsotXINCjKVNKQxEgXni1jbH6H3gi17yfgGiwpUFIVNm56QAHGpzQaSuXWxet2VWh6YPkArTQJ8n2mq1hZvNZHl4Cf3NvUOrsfh95OTj82maFAkpsQ5SAVSHeYLQlwUir6-TvYPs22O/s1600/_42671147_batons_ap416.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBBsotXINCjKVNKQxEgXni1jbH6H3gi17yfgGiwpUFIVNm56QAHGpzQaSuXWxet2VWh6YPkArTQJ8n2mq1hZvNZHl4Cf3NvUOrsfh95OTj82maFAkpsQ5SAVSHeYLQlwUir6-TvYPs22O/s320/_42671147_batons_ap416.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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It isn't uncommon for the Police to be lynched by the very mob that they are trying to protect: The Common mob is particularly prone to target the police in their protests...and this is when they are trying to ensure everyone (well mostly everyone) gets out alive.<br />
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Let's face it, even at the most mundane level the police have some hazardous working conditions. The guys who work the street have it bad, they have the pleasure to stand in the sun all day directing traffic, kicking away beggars, or patrolling our trash infested streets, waiting for something bad to happen (well something bad enough for them to care about). I sure hope the traffic cops at least get free laundry service. Keeping those uniforms white after a day sweating in the sun or getting drenched by the rains must be an inevitable failure of an enterprise. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMZ1OjzpFyDr08g1ymF-ZScE3uYYfdOqp7zj_659GmrbOkhyM6nhMTNXBMpyk3zzaUVTxevQdgeDvc6VFcFyAEup69CmgLGm7RlwpfOUdItCdUqVX7GUfgLspriUwENDjcB12I6lhQ3o7/s1600/WorldPolicePakistan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrMZ1OjzpFyDr08g1ymF-ZScE3uYYfdOqp7zj_659GmrbOkhyM6nhMTNXBMpyk3zzaUVTxevQdgeDvc6VFcFyAEup69CmgLGm7RlwpfOUdItCdUqVX7GUfgLspriUwENDjcB12I6lhQ3o7/s320/WorldPolicePakistan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The guys in their offices have it even worse, if anyone has been inside a police station they'll be impressed by the ingenuity of the place. Termite riddled Desks are held together with super glue, cement bricks act as support for rickety furniture. Poor interior decoration coupled with a lack of good looking women leads to a poor work atmosphere. The criminals don't help much either. An inherent lack of attractive women lead to terrible morale. Look at all of the foreign banks, pretty women = terrific morale....pity the performances don't match.<br />
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We live in a country where a Pizza hut delivery guy gets to your house before the police. Now the number of brand new police Toyota Corollas and Suzuki Mehrans are highly misleading. Majority of our cops still travel in junk grade bikes and various antique pickups that are better suited for transporting livestock (the livestock don't complain). <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqP_J0a4lmebTSOOtCIVXUBaqWIsBCtRGT8kNslzg27JFP95BLgd27_adFFoW2c9flMY3F8U9o3dwyupGta2yt-9ceUcF0xdbGV-dDJTw7RQjf95bIkf4M8h6EacSCJaM0v1Y3qDr3d34h/s1600/watson.pakistan.police.cnn.640x480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqP_J0a4lmebTSOOtCIVXUBaqWIsBCtRGT8kNslzg27JFP95BLgd27_adFFoW2c9flMY3F8U9o3dwyupGta2yt-9ceUcF0xdbGV-dDJTw7RQjf95bIkf4M8h6EacSCJaM0v1Y3qDr3d34h/s320/watson.pakistan.police.cnn.640x480.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
To Protect and Serve. Why should they even we can't find it in our hearts to treat them with a modicum of decency. They, police wallas deserve to be treated with atleast a modicum of decency, otherwise they'll continue to have have minimal professional pride and become more prone to corruption. After all, on a human level, being able to afford nice stuff makes them feel better. Maybe we'd treat them differently if we realized that they are not so different from the rest of us.<br />
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A version of this piece was published on <a href="http://blog.dawn.com/2010/08/06/to-protect-and-serve/">Dawn.com </a>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-4509123010320751822010-08-12T00:54:00.000-07:002010-08-12T09:20:07.476-07:00Happy Birthday President Musharruf!<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHwAP_r3-WrLDTjZ_C-i8k8kEWD8qTgXR84oTcYJKoxPRPqK0gRtl4_j8GyV6miLT-oZV1e-x71ETrKpoAfq88K5UGaSsbgjWodaO19gKQpbB94hUWbqutkld7RDau4QE7EEdmqj5UqkG/s1600/President+Musharruf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRHwAP_r3-WrLDTjZ_C-i8k8kEWD8qTgXR84oTcYJKoxPRPqK0gRtl4_j8GyV6miLT-oZV1e-x71ETrKpoAfq88K5UGaSsbgjWodaO19gKQpbB94hUWbqutkld7RDau4QE7EEdmqj5UqkG/s400/President+Musharruf.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hail <i>Fuhrer</i>…I mean Dear President Musharruf (do we get to keep calling you that or did we strip you off the right to call yourself that too?)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyhow I bet you think we all forgot, but we <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">totally</i> didn’t, it’s your birthday! Happy 67<sup>th</sup> Birthday Mushi 2010! What are you like 30 years old now? You look all vibrant and stuff with your 261,620 facebook buds and hip London pad. Now, we have a big surprise for you, because we know you like Unexpected Presents! After all, that’s a fair description of how you stumbled into power.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Infact we are so awesome and generous as a people we got you two gifts. I know, we shouldn't have.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Firstly, oops, you were right we admit it, our politicians are corrupt soul sucking fiscal account leeching scoundrels. We know how you tried to warn us, be we were all hyped up about this democracy thing, but you sure knew what you were talking about. But it’s not like you can blame us, the politicians promised us that they’d behave better….<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they promised naa <o:p></o:p></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br />
</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_UXjmsCZveerscicz_uKlp7BDLZUfPg9QW00MebfhF6jmUCYtDZzwWxxGiEgjPGK2g_HTTJ71xNEoZERs6etwdh4DkyQO6nOmHsz6XEJMlxr4fsZ6kInUws8rTW2LT4EQS4ntotsFz3_/s1600/Holla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_UXjmsCZveerscicz_uKlp7BDLZUfPg9QW00MebfhF6jmUCYtDZzwWxxGiEgjPGK2g_HTTJ71xNEoZERs6etwdh4DkyQO6nOmHsz6XEJMlxr4fsZ6kInUws8rTW2LT4EQS4ntotsFz3_/s1600/Holla.jpg" /></a></div><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br />
</i></div><div class="MsoNormal">Secondly, we got you….wait for it….President of PAKISTAN! Now, I know it’s kinda lame, but Pakistan was just too damn big to properly wrap even and lately it’s been leaking water everywhere and think of all of those protestor fires as if they were candles….might be a few more than 67, but you get the idea. We’d offer up some cash but we don’t really have any. Quick question; do you accept payment in smiles?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Please excuse our insincere dysfunctional gifts, but things have gone a bit awry since you…um went on vacation. Rampant inflation, hurricanes, energy shortages, target killings, nut job local Taliban, unemployment, planes crashing and now widespread floods….. We blamed most of it on you and the rest on the most convenient Zionist conspiracy we could find. Cheer up old bean, look on the bright side you don’t really have to do much to exceed our now neglible expectations! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Xi7Lnm191oDNRj-LRIinwLAJwW5Yfo-Z9Vacd_RQFqk8XMbmJDWNZrPdHKzXkjLPCMc4Ap8g_SZfiYLinUcMcDF29827SEjUEcQYf-LqfvEyDnmOWljnI9CA6nGxQuELDge27-fZlnfB/s1600/Pervez+Musharruf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Xi7Lnm191oDNRj-LRIinwLAJwW5Yfo-Z9Vacd_RQFqk8XMbmJDWNZrPdHKzXkjLPCMc4Ap8g_SZfiYLinUcMcDF29827SEjUEcQYf-LqfvEyDnmOWljnI9CA6nGxQuELDge27-fZlnfB/s1600/Pervez+Musharruf.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We even know how to fund your come back, the President’s Relief fund! (Which reminds me, Zardari wants to know if he can sublet your pad in London at a discounted rate?). We lost your uniform, but we’re sure that Nawaz Sharif’s old boy scout uniform will fit you nice and tight. It’ll come in handy when we shoot your Pakistan come back commercial for 14<sup>th</sup> August. You’ll be dancing with a Pakistani Flag on the glaciers of Siachen to the tune of ‘Truly Madly Deeply’; Savage Garden wasn’t available, but Salman Ahmed offered to step in. We got Ali Azmat, he was just plain cheaper....oh Lux is sponsoring. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We hope you’ve kept that dastardly smile and puffed up chest in good shape. After the military’s sterling flood relief efforts, Pakistani would definitely appreciate having a military man steer the ship (we mean you, not Kayani; we can’t get him to take a demotion to president)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6gdIuJPj7xxDPVPKw1O6vQ9s_UY9-A8Fpb3kOFxH8J_OX3g0OQMhbVKfuF8ChNZFmTVe2AazUYNavqrWLDy-ih540xEcjURXrJkh9pipqqXz8EbQqTz4mqZ7YZZyLoafujh4isLPmtN_/s1600/Dicktator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6gdIuJPj7xxDPVPKw1O6vQ9s_UY9-A8Fpb3kOFxH8J_OX3g0OQMhbVKfuF8ChNZFmTVe2AazUYNavqrWLDy-ih540xEcjURXrJkh9pipqqXz8EbQqTz4mqZ7YZZyLoafujh4isLPmtN_/s1600/Dicktator.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mushi, on the occasion of your 67, we humbly offer you the second most powerful post in all the lands; Sorry, but you’ll have to report to Kayani like everyone else. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Pakistani People</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">PS: You might want to take the long leisurely sea cruise route back to Pakistan. Flight safety in Pakistan; not so great as of late. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">PSS: We promised Marvi Memon, that you’d let her sing ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ on your return. Fear not, we got you some German made ear muffs.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-56511857225924598492010-08-06T12:36:00.000-07:002010-08-06T12:36:45.956-07:00Defending My Petty Little Blogosphere<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYG8AJ3L2_iFQt7UscsmUN08bzmeFq-HTvv4diGbRaWVoaCvZotZcp6o2JFQqXaRfJtZZhmsa0eRQ__j-auzmNFqvO6sdYzG-op7JkRThxG0BLIRXDotPz5mrA3kj7xBAtDp34oLTQrTf/s1600/blog_logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYG8AJ3L2_iFQt7UscsmUN08bzmeFq-HTvv4diGbRaWVoaCvZotZcp6o2JFQqXaRfJtZZhmsa0eRQ__j-auzmNFqvO6sdYzG-op7JkRThxG0BLIRXDotPz5mrA3kj7xBAtDp34oLTQrTf/s320/blog_logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Blogging is good, Blogging is democratic, Blogging is the debate of ideas and an avenue for self expression. Some may find bloggers desire to write offensive, and that is fine. I’d like to turn their attention to their computers ‘Shutdown’ setting.<br />
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If one doesn’t like what my blog or any particular message board they stumble across says, then by all means, don’t participate. Because it is the ability to participate in the debate is what makes the blogosphere democratic and unique. <br />
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Blogging, is my right. If I or any other member of the blogosphere decides to express our own opinion, then that should be lauded (I laud myself all the time). It is when one represses the rights of individuals that one spreads terrorism. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdiGT0TuzD22dJAKiMNJaxrSgqz_WqRcVQWlLaFdcIykJB1BZZMtXxfzjBlIk44Gtf3n5wQqy2n9S5uFFqrt0MrK0AoBc4N8dVfO8Dhz3nD41dqLxctb1mWGVndvOQMdVZDxRsW-wBpeX/s1600/blogging+requires+passion+and+authority.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdiGT0TuzD22dJAKiMNJaxrSgqz_WqRcVQWlLaFdcIykJB1BZZMtXxfzjBlIk44Gtf3n5wQqy2n9S5uFFqrt0MrK0AoBc4N8dVfO8Dhz3nD41dqLxctb1mWGVndvOQMdVZDxRsW-wBpeX/s320/blogging+requires+passion+and+authority.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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There is nothing more important to a society straining to attain a health democracy than diversity of thought and multiple platforms of expression, unless one advocates a ‘controlled democracy’ (read totalitarian society; we’ve tried that, it doesn’t work). <br />
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If one finds it acceptable to restrict what people think into their own personal realm of accepted views, then perhaps they prefer the days preceding the internet. However, in this time and age, short of banning the internet, one had better accept the notion that one can’t restrict writers from expressing themselves, in the blogosphere or otherwise. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczGbNhTn7va9LSLD2ZLvsGPfMtHlpRsfD96tG0-KK_L3K8IKwk9kvncDmZzAtjMTwXUNtw_3SBK0hLi2yn_kCb6pd2X8vGA_SD6XIeS8Y9TpU1vX42Gy2Us2WTKfq9lBUek2qlhJ5rb9e/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjczGbNhTn7va9LSLD2ZLvsGPfMtHlpRsfD96tG0-KK_L3K8IKwk9kvncDmZzAtjMTwXUNtw_3SBK0hLi2yn_kCb6pd2X8vGA_SD6XIeS8Y9TpU1vX42Gy2Us2WTKfq9lBUek2qlhJ5rb9e/s400/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Here are the primary criticisms of the blogosphere <br />
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<b>A: Bloggers are far too young to write intelligibly </b><br />
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It's my generation that taught the um… ‘experienced’ (by experienced I mean Older) generation of writers how to use their fancy 'laat-top' to bang out their artfully crafted pieces, check their gmail and make their own fan pages on book-face (in the vain hope that the government would ban them). <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Y6teTFxesMjR6MhtHqJpItQ-8Wh-hiwWg96K7G5WivkogpeTXwkjqud8e1aXYHmPEUkn3qumvmOQgvDbvtJifm54-6Pi53isTJEBJ7dL7OnL8dYp6aOnUxIqD1enHN2O2M9jI_-hr1Mj/s1600/blogging1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Y6teTFxesMjR6MhtHqJpItQ-8Wh-hiwWg96K7G5WivkogpeTXwkjqud8e1aXYHmPEUkn3qumvmOQgvDbvtJifm54-6Pi53isTJEBJ7dL7OnL8dYp6aOnUxIqD1enHN2O2M9jI_-hr1Mj/s320/blogging1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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With no offense intended on Pakistan’s glorious veteran truth speaking establishment, I doth do protest (as is my right; I checked). As old as some of these distinguished experienced journalists may be, I imagine that back in the 1800’s some were still in the pinnacle of their youth and attempting to learn their trade, becoming great at journalism or any other field requires time, patience and accountability and most of all, a platform.<br />
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Being old doesn't give one a patent on being able to write any more than my chaiwalla is a banker. <br />
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<b>B: That Bloggers know nothing, and that only experienced Journalists hold the elixir of truth in their soft hands, hence ought to have the exclusive privilege to spread their message </b><br />
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Ideas matter, and if we’d like to live in a society with actual freedoms, we have to shy away from debating in fear. It is the ideas that pulsate on the blogosphere that reflect what people are thinking.<br />
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News will be news, one cycle after another. Journalists will always remain relevant, but it is the response to news items that adds to the realm of debate even more crucially than the original news pieces themselves.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60VcB0mDrXejF_pAIaBN4KjSLtn3fCaYg2LPXqCeSDczN6C_UQY9lHz5ZBPQ282NLqNUq1AlVQmf8OzcxE4h4qlM37aCbags9Dd_apcK0V_37nNp8D_XZRuMZhgpih_adKoKRedl4Mm7c/s1600/blogging1-musicwithoutlabels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60VcB0mDrXejF_pAIaBN4KjSLtn3fCaYg2LPXqCeSDczN6C_UQY9lHz5ZBPQ282NLqNUq1AlVQmf8OzcxE4h4qlM37aCbags9Dd_apcK0V_37nNp8D_XZRuMZhgpih_adKoKRedl4Mm7c/s320/blogging1-musicwithoutlabels.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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As terrific as the news that emanates from this country of ours, the response is what really matters. If the Hindu community is viciously attacked by fanatics, do we raise our voices or mutter something about ‘them finally accepting Islam’. <br />
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<b>C: Bloggers actually care what others think.</b><br />
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We don’t, my own personal writing and thinking fetish aside it may be pertinent to note we all shall pass from the earth at some point, if our legacy is to be our deeds, our ideas fall in that category.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztZ3Tjb-cuQhng-a5mWbngHWq-3W7e1g3GKC-g5R9IcjrlGhVmmRPDATR8AEe5cB76DCkz8bOsF3Qxw2wKaUgz5uHSarAc7tqRIP4APDLSZnz4gALR5o8wcE2W2YaZPzTroIW2M86n24U/s1600/blogging_monkeys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztZ3Tjb-cuQhng-a5mWbngHWq-3W7e1g3GKC-g5R9IcjrlGhVmmRPDATR8AEe5cB76DCkz8bOsF3Qxw2wKaUgz5uHSarAc7tqRIP4APDLSZnz4gALR5o8wcE2W2YaZPzTroIW2M86n24U/s320/blogging_monkeys.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Long after we are gone, our ideas will live on, and does it really matter if one doesn’t like it?<br />
<br />
Well, they can write a blog about it.<br />
<br />
A version of this piece was published in the <a href="http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/973/the-more-opinion-the-better-a-bloggers-defence/">Tribune</a>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-2746339909870229822010-08-03T09:57:00.000-07:002010-08-03T09:57:00.469-07:00Conquering CFA Level 1: Passing the Exam!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36U8uBdrYbUFHoQdpwGiJlWKRjwVanU05tisx67yqLdy60R_z-iUzF-2iLueVZHiW_c_eR6M5XpTNtlRmGI-aME-Ao5g1UX2y58PkdIbxvCKv0QJwthUGqUERuyF0YiHNTXup2Zb9iJCO/s1600/ea4ec23340titute.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36U8uBdrYbUFHoQdpwGiJlWKRjwVanU05tisx67yqLdy60R_z-iUzF-2iLueVZHiW_c_eR6M5XpTNtlRmGI-aME-Ao5g1UX2y58PkdIbxvCKv0QJwthUGqUERuyF0YiHNTXup2Zb9iJCO/s320/ea4ec23340titute.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I am happy to report that I recently discovered that I passed my CFA Level 1 exam.... on my first attempt. Pretty handily, I might add. Though honestly, I'm more relieved than happy. <br />
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Although the exam was in June, I've retained a remarkable amount from the actual experience itself which I felt that I ought to share, lest any of you mere mortals dare attempt an exam with a 1/3 pass ratio. (It's lower if it's your first try).<br />
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Personally, I'm thankful that I passed because I doubt my ego could withstand being ranked in the bottom 2/3rd of anything (which is why I was more <i>relieved </i>than happy).<br />
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Here are some of the tips I followed and I hope it helps a few of you:<br />
<br />
<b>Start Early</b><br />
<br />
This course requires a significant amount of work. The CFA institute prescribes at least 250 hours, I probably did around that or a little less spread roughly over 2.5 Months. I was also working at that time, so it got hectic, even though I had a great boss who was willing to be flexible; If I were you, start earlier, ideally 3-4 months and give yourself a extra time cushion. <br />
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That said, if you do not have any background in finance you might require considerably longer time than the 250 hours, I work in finance, so I actually got some studying through my work load.<br />
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This exam can be very expensive; I registered in the last deadline and it cost me $1435 dollars. Realize that this is an investment and behave accordingly.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuiEvy1A0ttXR1EuN-I336qHX-ECoJUi3iiULLgJ8-reoWnIE9tEMXD2rsMvcp8oBnxCvArBu91MxCiY40sZu3pAh-AdcjvWiskZ2IoqcHjrQnTn7QzB-m-dZEijlulq-aUb4PBEE8qGF/s1600/l-640-480-7a40793a-eb2e-4efd-abca-44c62f054bc2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuiEvy1A0ttXR1EuN-I336qHX-ECoJUi3iiULLgJ8-reoWnIE9tEMXD2rsMvcp8oBnxCvArBu91MxCiY40sZu3pAh-AdcjvWiskZ2IoqcHjrQnTn7QzB-m-dZEijlulq-aUb4PBEE8qGF/s320/l-640-480-7a40793a-eb2e-4efd-abca-44c62f054bc2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<b>Get the Right Study Material </b><br />
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Unfortunately the material supplied by the CFA Institute is bulky, cumbersome and at times plain stupid. I've yet to meet anyone who has actually used it and passed. In fact its almost designed to put candidates off.<br />
<br />
In Pakistan, majority of the people who clear the exam used Schweser Notes (In Pakistan a bootlegged copy costs $35). I'd offer to sell it to you, but then the Schweser folk might get really mad that I reduced there sales by thousands of dollars and sue me.<br />
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However, Schweser Notes or Analyst Notes are your best way of efficiently wading through the course and still have enough time for the all important practice exams. I've heard decent things about Stalla as well. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6wmpSVyKqjOx258KuEga_xFbdHc6VqDuRb7Mivu_QoSkDcQz4wWI51o6dUmiJhSaUTMj7UIfRvlgQ5lx7OtQ1tPyCY1GjyCZlzy1ooSNVYRQgPxbePXQMy_WMb9do2H7B3MTatQ-rfll/s1600/CFA-exam-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6wmpSVyKqjOx258KuEga_xFbdHc6VqDuRb7Mivu_QoSkDcQz4wWI51o6dUmiJhSaUTMj7UIfRvlgQ5lx7OtQ1tPyCY1GjyCZlzy1ooSNVYRQgPxbePXQMy_WMb9do2H7B3MTatQ-rfll/s320/CFA-exam-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Calculator </b><br />
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The CFA Institute allows you to use only 2 or 3 calculators. I recommend buying either the Texas BA II Plus or Texas BA II Plus Professional as soon as you intend starting with your prep (The HP is acceptable, but has fewer functions).<br />
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It is important you get used to the calculator and adjust its settings to your convenience (decimal places mostly). <b>LEARN TO USE IT</b>. It is your lifeblood. And buy, beg or borrow a spare, or at the very least a spare battery and a philips screwdriver (to change the battery). <br />
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<b>Work on a Schedule</b> <br />
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Make a damn schedule; so you know what your doing and when your supposed to be doing it. If you fall to meet deadlines make sure you have some back up time to eat into. <i>Attempt </i>to diligently follow your plan, you probably won't but it's the thought that counts.<br />
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Weekends are ideal for studying, thought what worked for me is planting my butt on a chair for 6-7 hours at a stretch and working through the course. But whatever works for you. A scheduale is important because it gives you a sense of time to the exam which builds the anticipation and sense of urgency. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBk_y3LhYd9kbpeGia8hyphenhyphentbmPJNoNX-BoNX8Dug31UXhuCHV521aPmnXHHhQOBO3GEAlzFZCnyX7WvEzdW_YYGmPjYw3OtvisDBxMWH57XGLbcb3GOTIfwwnREBEQmFLcfvzaHX1mvJgQ/s1600/cfalevel1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaBk_y3LhYd9kbpeGia8hyphenhyphentbmPJNoNX-BoNX8Dug31UXhuCHV521aPmnXHHhQOBO3GEAlzFZCnyX7WvEzdW_YYGmPjYw3OtvisDBxMWH57XGLbcb3GOTIfwwnREBEQmFLcfvzaHX1mvJgQ/s320/cfalevel1.gif" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<b>Course Breakdown</b><br />
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Quantitative Methods, Financial Statement Analysis and Ethics are massive chunks of your course (combined 112/240 or 47%) and more importantly Quantitative methods actually helps you navigate the rest of the CFA course. This is roughly the scheduale I used; It served me well. I strongly recommend it. <br />
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A: Economics <br />
B: Quantitative Methods<br />
C: Financial Statement Analysis<br />
D: Corp Finance & Portfolio Theory<br />
E: Fixed Income & Alternate Investments<br />
F: Ethics <br />
G: Practice Paper 1<br />
H: Revise Course<br />
I: Practice Papers 2 & 3. <br />
J: Last minute forumla & Concept prep<br />
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Your strengths can be quants or fixed income and equities. Whichever they be make sure you know that topic inside out, and set your time accordingly. My yardstick was that if I could do the concept checker questions at the end of each study session, I was ready to move on.<br />
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If I couldn't, I'd figured out why, they are good barometers to the actual questions in the exam. (The answers are worked out for you in the answers section).<br />
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Practice Papers are vital. Take them very seriously and realize that they help evaluate your strenghts and weaknesses as a candidate. <br />
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<b>Form a Study Group </b><br />
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I hear great things about study groups, but for me personally, it didn't happen. I would still recommend forming a study group that meets either after work or on weekends; but make sure it's a productive focused group; the fewer close, personal friends the better. If you do make a group, set targets and meet them. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLBybCO9s4QTbg8_WpbjCD770idGBT4gRwdUZ9giJ4h87bNqUYPGhPO7e3naMnTYUOnLZ1Pm5r0dDuLZCNerEu3N4keVYKT6tteuQ5Mbzef3x9wN4XAKi1583hsLg_cdqijfBUahZdqHI/s1600/group-study_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLBybCO9s4QTbg8_WpbjCD770idGBT4gRwdUZ9giJ4h87bNqUYPGhPO7e3naMnTYUOnLZ1Pm5r0dDuLZCNerEu3N4keVYKT6tteuQ5Mbzef3x9wN4XAKi1583hsLg_cdqijfBUahZdqHI/s320/group-study_large.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>Outside Help</b> <br />
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I don't recommend classes unless you are someone with no financial experience. It's a do it yourself kind of course and there are alot of people who've already cleared CFA level 1 whom you can probably access for the tough road blocks. That said, do what suits you. <a href="http://www.analystnotes.com/%20">Analyst Notes</a> has a forum that is actually a terrific resource for answering your questions online and they have practice sections for one to attempt as well. <br />
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<b>Develop Exam Temperament</b> <br />
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Practice papers are very important, do atleast 3. Recreate the environment as best you can. Remember, you have to be able to effectively time yourself and finish attempting all your questions on the answer sheet. Simulate exam environment as far as possible. The Regent Plaza in Karachi for example is always freezing cold, I brought an extra long sleeve polo just incase. My hands also tend to get sweaty when in Exam mode so I brought tissus. <br />
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The biggest factor to recreate is planting your butt on a chair for 3 hours at a time and working in dead silence; if you like studying to music, start not liking it; the brain operates on patterns, you train it how to work. CFA don't allow calculator covers, but they'll most likely make you place them them under your chair. I'd still strongly recommend that one try to leave as much of your personal items out of the hall....like cell phones or study notes. They have a place to keep them, but I rather not lose my Phone because the millions of bags got mixed up. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdbh8TEuX_x1-x3nWm8cO1VdFbmu9m5ee3EzURGivWB0e8DB-LplbgbMsZ1cmADwQDH_ibZab1xEs6tYLub1rp2KX8He9h-h5mWKkU02aySnmNMy7QautZSto9GvwFq0ZWlG4e5IWSLii/s1600/Level2_Books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdbh8TEuX_x1-x3nWm8cO1VdFbmu9m5ee3EzURGivWB0e8DB-LplbgbMsZ1cmADwQDH_ibZab1xEs6tYLub1rp2KX8He9h-h5mWKkU02aySnmNMy7QautZSto9GvwFq0ZWlG4e5IWSLii/s320/Level2_Books.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><b><br />
Work Hard</b><br />
There is no substitute for this one. Just Do It and think of the Pay Off (Money, Women, Prestige, Job etc). Or in my case Level Two Books (Above)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJxLHGAnI-1vNV2r498f64d9yooyfGe6dYHrJbtjuNdS6weggIZfQyuUvU91d_KrDNDTGIqX_IzsVzls7OAiZtgEo5kROoU6PPuEWKRy9M2xNpzSuKd_TUnI4lxviZl0gEkNTxt7upKn0/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJxLHGAnI-1vNV2r498f64d9yooyfGe6dYHrJbtjuNdS6weggIZfQyuUvU91d_KrDNDTGIqX_IzsVzls7OAiZtgEo5kROoU6PPuEWKRy9M2xNpzSuKd_TUnI4lxviZl0gEkNTxt7upKn0/s320/0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<b>The Actual CFA Exam</b>: <b>Know Thy Enemy & Vanquish with the Vengence of the Almighty!</b><br />
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The exam is broken up into 2 papers, one in the morning and the second in the afternoon. All topics are tested in both sessions. You have to pass every single section (I think), so there is no value in trying to game the exam. None.Whatsoever. Do not skip anything in your study prep. <br />
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The CFA Level I exam is 100% multiple choice questions exam. You will be under time pressure in the exam and need to answer on average one question every 1.5 minutes so you must keep moving through the questions. Because I was well prepared I finished rather early.<br />
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As per CFA, <a href="https://www.cfainstitute.org/cfaprogram/exams/Pages/cfa_exam_day_experience.aspx">this</a> is your day's scheduale<br />
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1. There is a strong argument for working methodically through the questions in the order they are set but you might wish to start with a subject where you feel confident and which you can work through fairly quickly. But avoid hopping from one subject to another, you'll waste time and you may end up missing questions. Personally, I did it methodically, and it's much smarter that way. <br />
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2. Don't panic if you hit some difficult questions, you can probably get as many as 30 or 40 questions incorrect on each paper and still pass the exam. Which ought to make you feel better. Me?, I like certainty. Just back yourself and soldier on through. <br />
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3. Ethics in study session 1 is an important topic, if you are a marginal candidate your ethics score could be the deciding factor whether you pass the exam. Study Ethics: it's infuriating because it's the one section that you can never be quite certain off. I thought I failed it and according to the break down I was in the top quartile. <br />
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4. There is no penalty for getting an answer incorrect, so if you don't know the answer eliminate any obviously wrong answers and guess which one is correct.<br />
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5. Mark questions in the exam booklet when you are not sure of the answer or where the calculation needs checking and come back to them when you have finished all the other questions. <br />
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6. Do not get distracted by a question that does not make sense, if the question turns out to be ambiguous then it will be excluded when it comes to grading the paper. Do not also get distracted by any pretty women in the vicinity. Imagine that they are all vampires and will kill you if you donot pass this exam. <br />
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7. Read the questions carefully, particularly when there is a negative statement in the question. They can get tricky. Practice reading the questions. Practice reading the questions. Did I mention how you should practice reading the questions? <br />
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8. Leave time to check your answers on the answer sheet, be careful you don't miss answering a question. Seriously. Go over your sheet the minute you think your done and review the questions that you weren't sure about. <br />
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9. Lunch break: I'm not sure about other testing centres but the food at Regent Plaza was both expensive and terrible, not to mention pure badly concocted junk food. Bring food from home if you can, brown bread, boiled eggs, salad. I went for multiple cans of Red bull. Lots of it. I shouldn't have (I know this but I'm a glutton for punishment). I was very lucky I used the bathroom before I went into the exam for round 2. Do not consume vast amounts of liquids. Imagine that they are are pure acid and will collapse your intestines & stomach should you consumer more than a mere palm full. <br />
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10. Testing Policies: Know where your center is: Some cities may have multiple centres. Karachi, didn't but make sure you know where yours is. Have your multiple HB pencils, sharpner, spare calculater, eraser, Government Issued ID ready to go. here are the relevent <a href="https://www.cfainstitute.org/cfaprogram/exams/Pages/policies.aspx">CFA testing policies </a><br />
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11. Don't Study during the lunch break. Remember, you may be on adrenaline but your brain is very taxed by the 3 hour morning session. relax, talk to friends, if you are so inclined talk to a few of the cute girls (there are few girls taking the exam in the first place; so it may be cute girl.). Donot talk to anyone about the exam. It serves no purpose.<br />
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12. Don't stress: Everyone will love you just as much no matter what the result. It's an exam, not your life. You can take Level 1 in Both June and December as opposed to Level 2 & 3 which are held annually in June. So if you don't pass, know that you can take the exam again 6 months later with a higher statistical probablility of passing. <br />
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Here are some useful links that actually served as a template for this post<br />
<br />
http://www.cfainstitute.org/<br />
http://www.complore.com/tips-cfa-level-1-exam-day<br />
http://www.ehow.com/how_2079031_pass-cfa-exam-level-1.html<br />
http://www.collegeboard.com/student/plan/boost-your-skills/10296.html<br />
http://www.investopedia.com/articles/professionaleducation/07/CFAexam.aspAlpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-75302546189724421402010-07-30T05:00:00.000-07:002010-08-04T01:59:13.996-07:00Why I Didn't Become A Journalist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdftU5Lwzvsx5lrFRAJMoV-lrAvBh3wAIq1nqtXMI10aSHfLhyphenhyphennn0D3nbL-hGv667Fwnqvb-tba1-Faq3nysyXi4yUi1Fis5wPjEk3BiHrkHB2s_29nVr2MlaefHzll1bdqojQGF7zRso/s1600/size+adjustment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdftU5Lwzvsx5lrFRAJMoV-lrAvBh3wAIq1nqtXMI10aSHfLhyphenhyphennn0D3nbL-hGv667Fwnqvb-tba1-Faq3nysyXi4yUi1Fis5wPjEk3BiHrkHB2s_29nVr2MlaefHzll1bdqojQGF7zRso/s400/size+adjustment.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <br />
Ladies & Gentlemen, believe it or not, once upon a time, I was actually contemplating a career as a journalist. I had always been a pretty good writer (as well as public speaker, poet, rugby player, Star Craft player, Checkers Champ, etc but why be arrogant about my God given talents?) I was in high school, in Karachi Grammar School (KGS) when I first started writing professionally (getting paid; I was trying to earn my way to my first cell phone), I was a pretty productive writer (unashamedly money, resume and intellect driven), I even founded a 'Journalism Society' (read "Club I founded & appointed myself President; true Pakistani style"). I used to write incessantly for the likes of Dawn group's Young World, Education Pages, Review, Books & Authors, The Star (Designated: Youth Editor), etc. Many assumed that I'd continue on with that writing fervor and commit my career (and possibly my potentially short-lived life) to journalistic endeavor.<br />
<br />
Well, I didn't. I discovered this wonderfully practical thing called economics, then finance and voila here I sit today, a cog in Pakistan's well functioning Financial juggernaut. I have no regrets and never will. But I still write, and will probably continue to do so till it utterly bores the inspiration right out off me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DwUcBFQ-RVm2BfR1ck8zpOHANW8naXfXXnHmoHelhiE7aAZI9WU1bPDQpkmTMUMrvr_6zwJEtw_VquTSlMo9kaXNHPuNAIgtfprIZzi3P2Ka6z_FdYA-JuBY0rLYvuoXZGuBHc7AHUf4/s1600/the-age-II.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DwUcBFQ-RVm2BfR1ck8zpOHANW8naXfXXnHmoHelhiE7aAZI9WU1bPDQpkmTMUMrvr_6zwJEtw_VquTSlMo9kaXNHPuNAIgtfprIZzi3P2Ka6z_FdYA-JuBY0rLYvuoXZGuBHc7AHUf4/s320/the-age-II.gif" width="233" /></a></div> As far as I was concerned, it wasn't a bait and switch to get into college (I had a phenomenal resume and list of extra currics). I was actually more than mildly interested in journalism. I could write, I had an inquisitive mind, a flair for witty prose, but sadly I lacked passion for journalism, the search of truth in itself. Perhaps more importantly (to me anyway) I discovered that I <i>didn't actually like most journalist</i>s. For a social animal like myself, great people to work with tend to matter. <br />
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The media industry, as cool as some of it's folk are, is heavily laden with self-important, overly clever, under talented individuals *who*seemed to be put on this earth to aggravate my early morning happiness. Now, to be fair, I'm a rather judgmental person and not the greatest morning person to start with, but I'm forgiving, have an analytical mind and tend to care about the news; quite a nice lad infact.<br />
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Journalists seem to enjoy this "I'm searching for the truth & enduring hardships" mindset that may seem adorable to an 13 year old idealist child, but I found it (and still find it) extraordinarily annoying. All these veteran truth seekers seem to want to talk about was how much secret information (dirt) they had, how the government tries to hide the truth (which I'm sure they do), or how some XYZ person was completely corrupt and how they were going to uncover the truth and expose them all for their crimes (probably guilty); they barely ever did; they were however, very quick to blame the government and their publishers who probably wanted something called 'verifiable sources'.<br />
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I do recall an occasion where one particularly irrate pompous Journalist was claimed that the government refused to allow him entrance into a particularly dangerous hostile area. It was a hot spot for decapitations and murders...can you blame the government for not allowing journalists in the area? I don't. Now if they did let the Journalist in question get himself killed, the head lines would rage about how insecure the area and how the government ought to have provided personal protection to the individual. Which if the government actually did they'd be criticized by the Journalist for constraining his movement and not letting him get the entire picture. It's a perfect damned if you and damned if you don't situation. Because a newspaper always seeks a headline, even if it has to create one. That's another thing I hate about journalists, everything is in hindsight. <br />
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On the rare occasion that these stalwarts of truth, justice and freedom were successful in uncovering whatever massive conspiracy they had arduously pursued, they always seemed embittered by how little people cared. How ignorant the general populace was about their ground breaking achievements (Most failed to realize that over half the population can't even etch their name).<br />
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Pakistani Journalists don't write with a passion for the truth or some mildly noble cause, they write for accolades, and a fleeting sense of self worth; one headline at a time, byline by byline. As if a newspaper article would catapult them onto the national stage and shower them with prestige. Evidently it doesn't, at least not in the lofty social circles that they expected it to (they want fame & fortune like everyone else). <br />
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Every journalistic rant is laced with enough generic platitudes to send an elephant into a coma and begging for an enema, or at least therapy. Journalists brandish unspecific ideas, abstract concepts and ridiculous prose as if they are Paul Coelho. They are not. they are scribes, and there is nothing wrong about that, but for my morning news, I'd love a little clarity. <br />
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The 9th time I read 'betterment for our country', 'morality', 'cultural values', 'Islamic ideals', 'democratic ideals' and 'not our culture', I stop caring what else the writer has written. Because he has no clue what he's talking about. Or at the very least can't convey his thoughts in an effective enough manner that an English educated Foreign graduate like myself can't fathom what the hell he's talking about.It's a waste of my mental acumen to concern myself with what he may or may not mean. <br />
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Most journalists have their own little (or large) pet cause or NGO that they support and strive very hard to make them relevant (sometimes for an additional <i><u>commission</u></i>). They feel that their patronage is the most important part of the organization, never mind the hard work actually done by the NGO's foot soldiers. <br />
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Journalists feel that it's their God given right to bash the government over any and everything. The default crux of anything printed somehow revolves around the government's inefficiency. I understand, Public Sector enterprises cost the government (give or take) almost $3 billion dollars in bailouts last year. But which private (preferably foreign) company would want to buy a bloated, unprofitable enterprise? PIA has negative equity. Which in layman terms means you have to pay someone else to take it over. <br />
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On the flip side, does anyone really want mass unemployment? because if the Government did make such a move, the media would be loaded with stories of how the government was 'ending the livelihoods' of so many people and 'destroying' their lives whilst the politicians load up on corruption. It's a perpetual blame game in which journalist can sit back and criticize without any actual value creation; though some esteemed journalistic icons have expressed how by criticizing and holding the government accountable they were infact 'saving the nation (usually from some form of far-fetched conspiracy)'. Basking in hindsight journalism is about as useful as completing a marathon on a broken foot. You can complain about it, but shouldn't you have rested the foot instead of navigating the rest of life with a limp. Pro-active versus Reactive. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjaGa2gBbddp-As7ZwxHP7mF7qftY0dGNZGxllj-jAzPoATnPsKMYw7IpfkIC8qd5g8J-cBS5kw2UwoezzBwNt-vpvQzgOfPbb9WhGYgzL4OHGZNBE1Utd-K54yOEftE_BMwxI8-xgk03T/s1600/swat-journalists.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjaGa2gBbddp-As7ZwxHP7mF7qftY0dGNZGxllj-jAzPoATnPsKMYw7IpfkIC8qd5g8J-cBS5kw2UwoezzBwNt-vpvQzgOfPbb9WhGYgzL4OHGZNBE1Utd-K54yOEftE_BMwxI8-xgk03T/s320/swat-journalists.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Because <i>Obviously </i>it's okay to kill anyone other than a Journalist</b></div><br />
<i><span class="body">"More things in politics happen by accident or exhaustion than happen by conspiracy.</span></i>" <br />
<span class="bodybold"> <a href="http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/jeffgreenf134450.html">Jeff Greenfield</a></span><br />
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Everything is a conspiracy with a delectable combination of the government, various political parties, United States, NGO's, IMF, Indian secret intelligence (RAW), the army and the ISI (Pakistan's version of the CIA). As much fun as drawing room conspiracy theories are to discuss. They really ought to stay away from News Papers. News Papers should have a grounding in Facts. Unless it's the funnies section; I <i>love </i>the funnies section...till the publishers shortened it to expand their pulpit space. <br />
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Maybe it's an inherent part of our 'culture' to blame anyone in a position of authority stemming from a 'colonial mind-set' but eventually we need to stop making excuses and own the government that we have. Cut them some slack when deserved and bash them when they do mess up gloriously. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1mQvOHsaNjEua_O7pG75xy7Jb9j5eOyqKGG9lnIfuLAQnBIybQSxAoRaigx7fRiiKdxq_UfIx4Qvo5JcaroXpxQqmcQpIpGnbhg7eRzQhhPWUFCJpNu_7fOqTPleouEQxGSXhdRiUQNH/s1600/cool-cartoon-952171.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy1mQvOHsaNjEua_O7pG75xy7Jb9j5eOyqKGG9lnIfuLAQnBIybQSxAoRaigx7fRiiKdxq_UfIx4Qvo5JcaroXpxQqmcQpIpGnbhg7eRzQhhPWUFCJpNu_7fOqTPleouEQxGSXhdRiUQNH/s400/cool-cartoon-952171.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Call me an elitist demanding snob, but if I'm going to devote the 50 odd seconds or so of my day perusing some poorly spell checked piece I demand that it not only be properly written but have some actual actionable result. Bemoaning the lack of government involvement is a cop out.<br />
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I did ask myself if I wanted to be the man that changed that? And the truth is that I lacked the conviction too. Everything I wrote would either be edited, dumbed down or rephrased in such a way that the authors style was scrubbed from the piece and the editors meek voice reigned supreme. Personally, I also hate it when people edit my work. Hence the bloggery with all of my mistakes is still my preferred outlet. <br />
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I still write more than a few satire pieces and general free lance articles for Dawn, Pakistan's largest English Daily Newspaper, but I write primarily as a mental release. I'm selfish in that I write to amuse myself (and possibly a few others) and enjoy the perks of being published (of which there are none that I actually care about).<br />
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To be fair there are some Journalists that I have a massive respect for, but I had and still have no desire to be in their place; though there are pleasures to be had as the Saint in the land of Sinners. Just not for me.<br />
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* Thanks AlecAlpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1623699882018686488.post-22368191685434702742010-07-27T04:56:00.000-07:002010-07-27T13:02:01.045-07:00Football & Religion: Bad Combo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi88T9xsuuhRJ2cV1eYyFT1cXp-GUsQ7CIqqXJK4zStRmEkGzhf_dBDaFlEsKMbNcAhJm3QTTCXT2522_6xAxtPuZnZe4vyG7GQSlstTfndyJGkSUcCKf8YO1ptyeQ8mqmZ0CuvfTGGSgAr/s1600/Red-Devil-footballpictures.net.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi88T9xsuuhRJ2cV1eYyFT1cXp-GUsQ7CIqqXJK4zStRmEkGzhf_dBDaFlEsKMbNcAhJm3QTTCXT2522_6xAxtPuZnZe4vyG7GQSlstTfndyJGkSUcCKf8YO1ptyeQ8mqmZ0CuvfTGGSgAr/s320/Red-Devil-footballpictures.net.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Of all the crazy shit......<br />
<b><br />
Malaysian Clerics Urge Muslims To Shun Manchester United Shirts: </b><br />
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<i><span id="divAdnetKeyword">Islamic clerics in Malaysia have warned their followers not to wear Manchester United shirts, as the club's nickname and iconography depicts the Devil.<br />
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United's traditional nickname of the Red Devils and the use of the symbol of a devil on the club badge has prompted clerics in the Asian country to issue the warning.<br />
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"This is very dangerous. As a Muslim, we should not worship the symbols of other religions or the devils," said Nooh Gadot, a cleric from Johor state, according to The Daily Mail.<br />
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"Even if it is a gift, we should decline it. It is even more sinful when people realise this is wrong and still buy these jerseys to wear."<br />
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Believers in Malaysia are also understood to have been urged to shun the national shirts of Brazil, Serbia, Portugal and Norway, as well as Barcelona's jersey, because their use of the cross is also considered un-Islamic</span></i><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">.....???.... </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Now, if this is the case and some insipid Malaysian Cleric feels that he has to go on the record and claim that my club, Manchester United's long held Red Devil symbol actually causes displeasure to God, then as far as I'm concerned the facts speak for themselves. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">The message is resoundingly clear; The Clerics are all Arsenal Fans.</span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Here are some thoughts I've compiled:</span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Sacred Publicity: Firstly these Clerics are suffering from some attention seeking disorder that requires immediate medical treatment: Personally I vote electric shock treatment. Assuming that these poor chaps aren't completely insane in their relevance, I think it'd be safe to assume that they are looking for an entry point into the big time retarded fatwa business that the nut job Arab clerics appeared to have a copyright license on. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Watch out Arabic Cleric Supremos, you got competition. Next up. I'm waiting for a ban on Fried Chicken , because it's obviously a tool of repression deployed by the evil west to make Muslim Men unfit for battle against the Dark Lords of the Sith. Wait for it.....Farmville is next in line. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword"> I wonder what this does to their donation inflow: particularly since the majority of Malays tend to hold the Red Devils close to their hearts....and their arms</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3nMnSd7tb_pUEk3ngJ0Y9KhkjpacYT59WMqFKWintyOWxOCv4L82fCBSAhZTiwfEiaXkV3zTFTQgk4F6dS5i1AkNnQl8rwP115RQiW0o4apIw4uHY3w3wp8HvJQvhzt5TDLWM3Jg0F_a/s1600/Manchester-United17-football-club-tattoos-tattoo-designs-pictures-gallery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3nMnSd7tb_pUEk3ngJ0Y9KhkjpacYT59WMqFKWintyOWxOCv4L82fCBSAhZTiwfEiaXkV3zTFTQgk4F6dS5i1AkNnQl8rwP115RQiW0o4apIw4uHY3w3wp8HvJQvhzt5TDLWM3Jg0F_a/s320/Manchester-United17-football-club-tattoos-tattoo-designs-pictures-gallery.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
Zionist Conspiracy: There is obviously some Zionist conspiracy in the Manchester United Symbol......I mean, duh, there has to be. The Malays just aren't clever enough to figure it out. The group that really ought to ban Football in general are the Christians, after all, it kills their Sunday Church Attendance. <br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Arsenal Investment: The clerics have secretly bought shares in Arsenal Football club and are hoping for a big pay day when the entire billion plus Muslim world professes their love for the Gunners. I'd like to point out that the greatest 'Gunnar' of them all never even played for Arsenal; His name is Ole 'Gunnar' Solskjaer. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Squad Representation: None of the players from Norway, Serbia, Brazil and Portugal play for Arsenal ....and conveniently Arsenal is trying rather hard to keep their captain from ditching to Barcelona...coincidence, I think not! ...maybe Cesc is secretly Muslim. Manchester United on the other hand have Vidic (Serbia), Nani (Portugal) and a plethora of Brazilians (Anderson, Possebon, Fabio & Rafael)</span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Arsenal = Muslim Compliant: Manchester United have no Muslim players. Arsenal have Abou Diaby, Bacary Sagna, Robin Van Persie (apparently he doesn't talk about it).</span><span id="divAdnetKeyword"></span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Football Grounds: They don't realize that although some dramatic columnists refer to football fields at as Sporting Cathedrals, that they are in fact not places of religious worship. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Emblem Kissing: United players do it alot because we do this quaint thing called winning games....we tend to do it alot. Arsenals players on the other hand....play with theirs until they are deemed worthy to leave the club in search of actual sporting success: Trophies</span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">Numbers: A great deal of jealously has emerged as the 76,000 plus attendance Manchester United's historic home stadium Old Trafford garners far out strips the minute number of worshippers that attend their local service in Malaysia. They are possibly of the view point that the only reason that so many people congregate in such vast numbers (not to mention the TV audience) is because of Satan. duh. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">The clerics actually believe that we care what their opinion with regards to our footballing interests is. I'd like to beat the kid who brought it up in the first place. Someone who obviously has little self worth and needs a cleric to tell him how to live his life. That ladies and gentleman is where Suicide Bombers come from. </span><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword">They don't trust the smiley face on the red devil. The vision of trophy less Arsenal fans crying year after year after there team loses again and again....and again, probably sits better with them. </span><span id="divAdnetKeyword"><br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword"> </span><br />
<span id="divAdnetKeyword">I have a developed substitute symbol which I think all Clerics, Islamic, Moronic, Platonic and otherwise can appreciate and get behind....well...not literally...Unless they are into that sort of thing. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbbJNJjnCn7EEAiE-RIoHplZ7F557eyNnqcHwOeaODnR-2yQ7aFwf9xtKxxE6cJ0X_oi94hxamMEf-oVpmI4p2wBVlqQnJgH73AI__SZbTIGOQ1B5YfZR9xcLEAYX_Ml9bPU62foCdCca/s1600/1255952413-78391400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbbJNJjnCn7EEAiE-RIoHplZ7F557eyNnqcHwOeaODnR-2yQ7aFwf9xtKxxE6cJ0X_oi94hxamMEf-oVpmI4p2wBVlqQnJgH73AI__SZbTIGOQ1B5YfZR9xcLEAYX_Ml9bPU62foCdCca/s320/1255952413-78391400.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span id="divAdnetKeyword">And now, that that's sorted. Get onto some real business. Like educating Muslims about their religion and spreading a message of peace, love and tolerance, which may of course preclude them from supporting Arsenal.<br />
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<span id="divAdnetKeyword"><b>PS:</b> <b>YO MALAYSIAN IDIOTS! FOOTBALL FANS DON'T <i>ACTUALLY</i> WORSHIP THEIR TEAM'S SYMBOLS. </b></span><span id="divAdnetKeyword"> </span><br />
<span id="divAdnetKeyword"> </span>Alpha Zahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09940520964761065276noreply@blogger.com6