Male Blockbuster Employee – Female UAE National Roommate?

I went to Blockbuster Video the other night. I happily purchased a couple of uncut DVD’s to add to my collection, with hopes that customs doesn’t take them on my way back home. Considering the fact that I was in a department store earlier and was talked into buying a collection of ‘Forever Sharp Kitchen Knives’ by some very adamant, convincing sales man, I’m pretty sure my bag is going to be one of the ones requested opened on my way back.

Anyway, I asked the guy behind the counter when some particular movie would be out, and he suggested I come back in February. When I explained I wouldn’t be here, and told him I lived in Dubai he exclaimed, “I’ve got a roommate and she’s from Dubai!”

Humm… I thought. A female, UAE national with a male roommate in Canada?

“It’s a she,” I continued, “There’s no way she’s a UAE national! A UAE national woman would never move in with a man who isn’t family.”

“Well that’s exactly why her family left! The rules are so strict over there!”

“Umm, no.” I was almost certain he meant someone who immigrated to the UAE had now moved to Canada after this talk, “I mean there’s no way she’s from the UAE because the Emirati culture simply doesn’t work like that.”

“Well,” her whole family moved here when she was just 17 years old.

“What’s her name?” I figured this would give a little more information.

“Janice,” he looked at me a little puzzled.

“Nope.” I confirmed, “There’s no way she’s from the UAE. That’s not a Muslim or even Arab name. She could have immigrated to the UAE, or her family might have. But she’s not from there”

By now, the guy is getting almost annoyed aggressive in his instance, “All I know is she was born and raised there. To me that means she’s from Dubai.”

“Fair enough,” I replied, “But UAE nationality isn’t given away as Canadian is here. Chances are, she originates from somewhere else.”

“Well,” He eased up a little, “All her friends are Pakistani. Maybe she originates from Pakistan?”

“Very possible.” I picked up my bag and continued, “All I know for sure is that you’ll almost never find a UAE national immigrating for life to the west. They’re treated too good, by their own government back home.

I smiled and left. But the conversation had me thinking a couple of things. In the UAE, race really is a huge issue. And it rubs off on you. Why was it so important to me, for him to understand that this girl wasn’t a UAE national? A girl like that, should be considered from the UAE, simply because she’s known nothing else.

I’d love to know what you all think of this conversation and what exactly it means. Feel free to call me a racist bitch if that’s how you read into this and of course, if it’ll make you feel better.

Ramadan’s Here?

For me, it sure doesn’t feel like Ramadan. It’s life as usual on this side of the world. I wonder how long until Dubai will feel just like here during this holy month. Last year, there was no noted law about non-Mulsim’s eating or smoking in public (in Dubai). People were getting off pretty easy compared to the past where there were publicized laws, punishments inclusive of hefty fines for people disrespecting those fasting by eating, drinking or smoking in public. For my western readers, it’s not about forcing the international public to fast, but about forcing them to respect people who are fasting and not entice them to eat or drink or fall prey to greater addictions (like smoking, which is a tough one).

I wonder how many half-naked women were prancing through Dubai supermarkets unintentionally disturbing fasting men today?

For health reasons, I’m not able to fast just yet. Hopefully, by the time I return these problems will be fully sorted and I can at least attempt to give it a go. It’s always harder to start fasting in the middle of Ramadan, and even more difficult to make up days lost after. In fact, most years I’ve failed to do this all together. I can cross my fingers and hope this year is better.

In the meantime, I should probably tone down a lot of what I say here, out of respect for this month and those who are fasting and possibly reading. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll sure try.

For all of you fasting this year, may you be blessed through the many virtues of Ramadan. And all of you who should be fasting but aren’t, may you find the strength to do so.

Happy Ramadan Everyone!

YaY!

Today is my last day of these dreadful meds! And my next check up is only three days away!

YaY!

Little Advice…

…from an over-dramatic-retard to an over-dramatic-retard.

When you decide you can’t stand someone…

When you think they’re the most despicable person on the planet with nothing good to offer you or anyone else…

When you’re more than willing to make those thoughts and feelings public in an attempt to destroy whatever delusional power you think they’ve got...

Stay the fuck away from them, once all is said and done. The only good you might catch otherwise is a bit of them rubbing off on you. And God forbid you ever taint yourself with my thoughts and become just a little like me.

Was it the Xanax? Or the Effexor? Or am I just old?

Happened again…

“You don’t remember me?” The waiter practically shouted at me, “I lived on your street, just a few doors away from you! The last time I saw you, you were in your house watching that movie where those guys were peeping through holes in the girls locker room?”

I didn’t have a clue who he was, or what he was talking about.

“It’s Sean,” my brother attempted to fill me in, “He used to play hockey with me all the time in front of the house!”

“Mom,” after he left I asked, “Is he the kid you paid to spy on me in class?” He wasn’t much of a spy really. I can’t remember his name but I do remember he had a huge crush on me, and told me every thing my mother attempted to out of him. He’d take her money and lie for me. He won it both ways and it worked just fine for me. If only I could remember his face…

We ate our dinner without mentioning it again. But as I walked out the door he caught me by the arm, “You used to yell at me all the time.” He had a bashful smile on his face, “I was just a bratty little kid then, you know?”

This happens every time I come home, and more than once too. I haven’t a fucking clue who these people are. Many of them, remember me like it was yesterday, or so it would seem. I’m really not joking when I say my memory is shot. What you should be asking yourself is, how long until I forget you too?

Needle in the Haystack…

…Or in a government provided box, in a public bathroom?

One of the more disturbing things I’ve seen since I came back here was on the ferry ride over from Vancouver to Victoria. Don’t get me wrong; British Columbia is probably the most beautiful place on the planet and despite my depressive gripping, I do love home.

I love being able to talk to strangers or having them talk to me, without them wondering why the hell I’m bothering, as if they care. I like being able to interact with people and not have them judge me based on how I look or where I’m from (despite the playful jabs every now and then about my accent). I love a lot about being here and my mom may soon have her wish. I’ve been talking to the boy and we’re considering moving here for a couple of years in a year or so. Even though, that doesn’t change all the horrible things I’ve already witnessed since I’ve been back. I would never want to raise a child here and I’ll stick to that. Now back to that needle…

In British Columbia smoking is illegal almost everywhere. You cannot smoke in a shopping center, you cannot smoke in a restaurant, you cannot smoke in a pub or bar even. I heard a while back they were trying to push for it to be illegal for drivers to smoke while in their own cars. In stark contrast, I went to the public bathroom on the ferry and found a nice little deposit box, for needles. I’ve since been informed this is so that junkies have a place to dispose of their needles without endangering the public. Isn’t that similar to Dubai’s radars, as in it doesn’t prevent the crime from taking place but accommodates it? If you’re not caught, you’re not breaking the law? We’ll even make it easy for you to dispose of your paraphernalia; spot the radars.

I understand the heroin is a highly addictive substance and I also understand the dangers of used needles being trashed in unacceptable places, but in some of the more recent studies I’ve read that smoking is just as addictive if not more and second hand smoke scare means I as the smoker am punished (no longer is my addiction accommodated with smoking rooms or sections). I tend to believe the fact that these boxes have appeared sometime in the eight years I spent away would mean the problem is increasing in this society. Wouldn’t the tax money and effort being spent on helping these junkies dispose of or exchange (I’ve been told there’s actually some program where junkies can go and exchange old used needles for new ones without being persecuted) be better spent on prevention techniques or persecution of dealers?

I wish I’d thought to take a photo of this junkie needle box. But after 24 hours flying I was tired and didn’t even consider it. Maybe, on my way back I’ll catch one.

((And yes, HL&H... I am feeling better! But then, it's nine am and I've just taken my pill. I remembered to eat too. It hasn't had the chance to kick in and kick my ass yet. Besides, today is my brother's birthday and I've already talked to the two people that mean most to me in the world, this morning. My baby's gone to school and had a blast on his first day. And the boy is equally wonderful!))

The Pope is a Prick

There’s a lot I’d love to share but I’ve not got the energy or will most of the time to bother. I’m still recovering and taking some serious meds for an infection I got from postponing my surgery for so long. Most of the time, I’m suffering flu-like symptoms and there’s little I can do about it but force-feed myself – because food seems to lull the side effects. Luckily, I have only a few days left of these meds and my next doctor’s appointment is on the 27^th. I’m the epitome of ‘depressed’ just now and it’s due to combination of things. I am trying my hardest to avoid family and even friends. And it’s mostly because I don’t want to bring them down with me. Lucky, I’ve still got some great old friends who won’t allow me to hibernate away, who keep dragging me out of the house. (If you ever see this, I love you Rod and I’m happier than you’ll ever know that you’re doing as good as you are these days.)

Anyway, I’m still in Canada. It was mentioned in the comments below that I seem to have forgotten I’m Canadian (cute link Psamtani). I’d rather say I feel that I’ve grown out of Canada. All I want is to go home, and home is in Dubai for me now. As I’ve mentioned in a few emails it’s cold here and rainy now too. I only have open toed shoes. People are different and stingy. Someone asked me what I meant by that, and it’s simply that they care a lot more about money than we seem to back home. And I refuse to believe it’s because they have less of it than the average person back home, because I know people who have a hell of a lot more money than I do, but they still hate to spend on themselves or on others. I was downtown the other night and a chick walked up to me and asked if she could buy a cigarette. When I told her she needn’t give me money in exchange she almost had a heart attack; like it was the most generous thing on the planet. I find that a lot here; they way people react to something so common back home.

Most people here haven’t got a clue about the Middle East. I can listen to Bush’s propaganda all day long on the news, but like the rest of the population here I can’t be bothered to actually turn into whatever the hell he’s saying. The few times I did catch a line or two, he was fully capable of turning the minor flu-like symptoms that I already had, into full-out gagging and heaving. The man talks more shit than even I’d have guessed. The Pope is an ignorant, arrogant asshole.

Just a day after I arrived here, some kid shot up his school in Montreal, killing one, leaving two in critical condition and wounding more than a dozen others. He was shot dead by police. It’s just one more reason why I’d never want to raise my son here. These horror stories are happening more and more often in the west and I’m glad we haven’t reached this stage yet in the Emirates.

There’s a lot more to say, but really, this entry is just for Lizza who asked me to get back to blogging and home. I’m trying to rearrange my ticket for a sooner flight, hopefully soon after my next appointment, but I doubt that’ll be possible. My mother’s trying to convince me to stay; keeps showing me vacancies for work that she thinks is right up my alley. And my sister (who I’ve not yet seen) is right beside her with the home-marketing-strategy – yes it does feel like full-on campaign they’re applying.

I miss my son. I miss the boy. I’m cold. I’m pretty fucking tired. And people keep saying I talk funny.

All I want...

...is to go home.

In Canada

And Safe.

Plan C & D… Bub-Bye (I think)

In light of a formerly unknown, additional medical problem which requires more immediate attention than the formerly known one, my mother’s paranoia over the whole situation, ever increasing expected expenses of the medical solution, and my general lack of faith UAE medical care (excluding the truly fantastic doctor* I saw this evening and whom I should be under the care of tomorrow morning), Plan B has now been changed to Plan C.

Tomorrow morning I’ll have surgery. As soon as a ticket can be booked I’m off to Canada for a second surgery and follow-up care.

And I think this is the end of the ‘Tainted’ story as you all know it. The fact that I’m unable to disclose all my realities on this particular blog is eating me alive. I currently have no will to care about this place anymore.

Love & luck to you all (even my haters who I’ve just granted smiles from ear to ear, I’m sure). I don’t think I’d have stuck around as long as I did if it weren’t for the interaction of you all.

* Thank You for bearing with me today; defiantly one of my worst days ever. Thank You for introducing me to the only competent doctor I’ve met in my eleven years in the UAE. And Thank You for your continued support. May you be blessed always.

And just as I was finished typing this up, Plan C becomes Plan D. Mommy’s paranoia has me booked to leave UAE for Canada tomorrow. A mother's power is an incredible thing, really. No surgery in the UAE. All of it in Canada, Inshallah.

You all take care.

And You Wonder Why I Hate People.

I have...

A non-refundable ticket.

Purchased baby clothing for her daughter.

A medical problem that needs immediate attention.

Arranged a visa for her and her daughter to enter the Emirates again, when I get back from Serbia.

Been worried sick about her for the past week.

Made multiple international calls to her family find out if something is wrong.

Finally reached her cousin in Belgrade and found out what’s going on.

A few days ago, she sent her cousin an email explaining that she wasn’t going to Belgrade because she couldn’t manage to get her heroin addicted, diseased, shit-for-brain-loser of a husband (who most probably has a second wife, remember) a visa and she didn’t want to go without him. I didn’t even realize he was invited. No, no. I understood she was getting a divorce.

I have...

Just told another friend to fuck off, eternally. She deserves whatever the fuck she gets, because she gives it to herself.

But I also have …

Another really great friend who’s helping me with plan B.

I will be fine. I’m just incredibly disappointed, and having been given another perfect example of why people suck, a quick inclination to lose even more faith in human kind, and a keen sense to resent the world and all that exists right now.

Incase you missed that, it means don't step on my fucking toes right now. I'm in NO fucking mood for it.

The Sky is Green

Who is to say that the way the pale-blue sky looks in my eye, identically resembles that which you see through yours?

I'm supposed to leave tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if that's happening. She's missing and has been for the last week or so. Please cross your fingers and pray she's alright.

Redundant Moi

I'm ever changing and always staying the same.


And no one believes it.

Why Dubai… ?

I’ve been busy. But while out and about today I found myself pondering a few things:

Why doesn’t KFC serve gravy in any of its Dubai outlet’s as it does in Canada?

Why does the majority of the driving population here drive 20km/s below the posted speed limit on the *new* beach road, where anywhere else in the city you’ll find most drivers going 20km/s over the posted speed limits?

Why doesn’t New York Fries have gravy here, either?

Why is it, that even as the population grows extensively here and demand is rising among that population, you still can not find a proper arts & craft store that’s got all the resources of one that could actually be considered ‘good’.

Why is Dubai’s KFC so oily compared to the YUMMY KFC back home?

Why aren’t more people playing on souq.com? I recently discovered it and think it’s rather interesting. I can see myself getting addicted to buying and selling junk online.

Why do most Chinese Restaurants here neglect to put Water Chestnuts in their stir-fry when you can purchase the same at most supermarkets?

Why can’t you find organic vegetables in most supermarkets here, and if you can, why are they SO expensive?

A lot of my thoughts are centering food it seems. I’m not hungry. Maybe I’m craving something and just don’t know what it is?

Ho Hummm… I’m bored of this topic now.

UAE Community:

It seems… none of the comments I’ve made on the UAE community blog (I’ve tried twice since they started their moderation) are getting approved, though other comments are being approved, which means mine weren’t just missed. I don’t believe I’ve attempted to say anything that could possibly result in the blog being blocked in those comments and in fact, in the first comment, I believe I agreed with the author of the post about the Human Rights Dept. in Dubai Police.

Rather than repeat myself about what I think of the administration of that blog and the general summery of the types of posts that frequent that place, I thought I’d just link my takes from the past outlining the same:

Why Bloggers Don’t Rule the World

Question for my Blog Readers

Stop Barking little Bitch & Bite!

THE UAE COMMUNITY BLOG: A better example of the public than the Real Thing! Move over Ruling Family SD’s Coming!

Right. I’ve asked not to be a member of that blog. And I’ve requested to be removed from their blogroll. Does this mean I have no right to comment on anything that’s posted there by any of the many authors who do contribute? Or is my belief that I’m being singled out by one (or some) (because as has been mentioned in the past I have no idea how many people actually consist of their administration and I have no idea who is in control of comment moderation) of the administration, as a personal bias seem paranoid and completely irrational in my thinking? Or could I be spot-on?

In that blog, Freedom of Speech only exists if you agree with or are in favor of the admin, as far as I can see. The fact that my comments, regardless of nature have not been posted just goes to confirm my earlier beliefs. I’m not opening a debate for those of you wishing to take this to that. Once again, I’m clarifying why I have so many issues with the community blog and the administration as they've once again proven themselves a poor example of all the things they rave for. And as of now, this entry will replace the link at the top of my page for the UAE community.

Hopefully, sooner than later a real representation of the UAE and it's society will be created with a decent admin, in the Blogging world and will replace the shoddy one that currently dominates UAE bloggers.

Creative Romance…

I am a romantic at heart and I believe that romance is something that needs to be worked on in every relationship, no matter how long you have been with your loved one. A fire won’t continue to burn if you don’t add matter to it every now and then. I’m huge on this belief.

I spent yesterday evening burning a CD of soppy love songs for my boy & writing a love letter on the cover. I spent the day selecting the perfect greeting cards to tell him I love him. All of which are waiting for him today. We’ve been together on and off for more than two years now, and I still send him hand-written love letters. I still leave short love notes in the fold of his wallet, or pocket of his freshly washed and ironed clothing. When I borrow his car, I often place a fresh picked flower or sweet candies on the seat when I return the keys to him. These sorts of creative expression are common in our relationship. He writes love messages in the steam of the mirror after he showers for me to find later when I bathe myself, or leaves good-morning notes on my pillow while I sleep.

A few days ago, I started to think about other ways I could creatively add a bit of romance, a tad of love to this relationship; ones that I’ve not already tried. I Googled a number of key words looking for creative tips. Most of the sites were blocked, inspiring this entry.

A long while back I went on a rant about divorce and women’s bitching when chances were it was their fault. I followed this entry with a rant about men, and how just as often it’s the man’s fault. No one was left out when it comes to placing blame in general circumstances. Now I’m going to give you all tips on silly little ways you can spice up your relationship. These are some of the things that I’ve done in the past of have had done for me. If you can think up any of your own, please place them here. Because I’m looking for new creative ways to help keep those fires burning.

Unisex Tips (you can do these for your male or female partner)

1) Hand written love letters (and try actually mailing them to your baby’s work or even home address), it’s a lover-ly surprise for anyone on the receiving end.

2) Scrap-book: make a scrap book of all the things that remind you of your lover, include photographs, tips & ‘I-love-about-you’ lists. Give as an unexpected gift or even better, make it together!

3) Mixed tapes or CD’s. This one is pretty self explanatory – and it only sounds clichéd because it’s so common due to the fact that it DOES induce romantic feelings. Leave the tape/cd in your lovers car player for them to hear when they step inside, or simply hand it to them.

4) Hidden notes: Imagine opening your wallet at the ATM or a pay counter to find a note from your lover tucked inside saying something as simple as, “You’re the wo/man of my dreams”, “I’ll never forget last night”, or “Where ever you are at this moment, know I’m thinking of you.” It’d sure brighten my day. These notes work just as wonderfully when left in unobvious places, like the fridge, or on the steamy bathroom mirror!

5) Sweet Poetry Puzzle. It’s not so much about writing a sweet poem as it is about writing the letters on the back of m&m’s and numbers on the other side, instructing your lover to align them all properly before flipping them over to read whatever sweet lines you’ve versed for them.

6) Lovers Coupons:



This is an actual coupon (a bad photograph, I know) I made and gave my boy in a collection of 10 or 15 of the same a year or so ago. This particular one reads, “This coupon entitles (his name) to One Cuddly Bear-Hug with (my name).” It’s complete at the bottom with, “This coupon is valid for one use only and may be used at any place at any time.”

These are easy to make and oh-so-sweet. Believe it or not, his returning this coupon was the start to one of our ‘make-ups’ after an argument. Other things you can award on coupons like this are, 1) massages; 2) bubble baths; 3) kisses; 4) home cooked meals; 5) hand packed picnics on the beach, etc. You can even get naughty with them, if your relationship works that way. *wink*

7) Write a book & have it bound. If you’re reading this, you must have some sort of aptitude for the ‘written word’ even if it’s just blogging. How hard is it to write a child’s story about you and your lover, changing the coffee shop where you met into a shoe market, his/her job into a shoemaker and you the prince/princess without the right pair of shoes? And how hard is it to fabricate an end that's still unknown, where the two of you live happily ever after? Do you have any idea how sweet this gift is? And how deep the actual references to your relationship; the spoon you still keep from the first date for example, as a treasure found in an old shoe box in the story; the sister in law from hell, acting just that in the story, will touch your loved one? Print it out at home on A5 paper, have it bound for pennies in a place like Kinkos!

8) Create a lovers crossword puzzle. The fact that you’re reading this means you must have access to a computer and most probably the program Excel. Format the cells to fit one letter each and create your own crossword puzzles. Examples of topics can include “Things you two enjoyed together,” “Lovers Nick-Names”, “Places you’ve enjoyed”, etc. Other creations like this can be made with the concept of Word Un-Scramble, etc.

9) Dress yourself just for him/her. This is something that I’m sure all of us fall out of doing eventually. Life often gets in the way and we take for granted that we once prepared ourselves extensively for a meeting with our loved ones. It seems even harder when we live together. But take the time, when s/he’s out shopping to dress yourself and prepare for their return, just to see the look in their eyes as they fall on the beautified you. This serves to remind them that despite everything, they’re still as important if not more so than they were at the start of your relationship. And this works both ways. Take care of yourself for your lover if you can’t do it for you.

10) Remember your loved one while you’re not with them. Don’t forget to tell them, through text messages even, that you’re thinking of them even as they’re away. Another way to do this, is to pick up an unexpected love card while you’re out in your travels and give to them without any cause for celebration other than the fact that you’re still together and you’re still in love.

I honestly believe that love doesn’t have to get old no matter who you are or how long you’ve been together. But to keep it alive it takes work on both sides. If you abuse or neglect it enough, you will lose it. These are some of the things I’ve found help keep my love alive, though many would argue he and I were doomed from the start – and at times even we agree with that opinion.

So now it’s your turn. Give me your thoughts or share your tips. I’m waiting!

More Cuties from Irene

Irene, I hunted down the older ones you sent but as I suspected, they were a little too small to be shown clearly here.... Thank anyway!



~*~



Thank you again for the giggles.

Stupid or Something?

It’s been a long time since I dragged something out of the news, but this is unbelievable. I can not believe for an atrocity as serious as this one, the idiots decided it alright to contact the press and give case details of an ongoing human-trafficking-investigation.

Ongoing investigation: let’s give the Pimps a way out, by giving them the details via press.

Did you pimps catch this? Get rid of your mobile-sim cards, distort your appearance a little and there’s NO way other than a girls testimony, that you can be caught here. And if you’re still worried, just take a long vacation from the UAE. Come back when there’s less heat on you.

Disgusting! At least wait until the damn investigation is completed before you start telling the story and giving the guilty a chance to get out!! Isn’t that common sense?

This is a HUGE disappointment from the Filipino authorities who were quoted here. If I were a Filipino national, I’d be contacting my embassy this minute to make a fuss out them disclosing details in such a way, with hopes to prevent it in the future. I wonder if our favorite UAE blogging Filipino would consider doing the same thing?

Pussycat Dolls

**This entry is not about sickly girl-band whose name alone is enough to make me cringe for some reason.

If you are in the UAE, you will all note that if you click on the link for this page as in the archives, it will be blocked by Etisalat’s proxy. Notice the word ‘Pussy’ in ‘Pussycat Dolls’, and you’ll catch the offender here. There is nothing offensive about the pussycat, but Etisalat blocks some specific words across the board.

**Edited to say:

I just tried this url: http://tainted-in-uae.blogspot.com/2006/09/pussycat-dolls.html and it's not blocked, so I'm assuming Etisalat has had an expansion in it's vocabulary, since I saw a letter about this particular band being blocked, in one of the papers last week or so.

For many of you overseas readers I’m sure this will help explain why a lot of the titles in the UAE blog’s replace common cuss or sexually explicit words like ‘Fuck’ with ‘Fcuk’ or ‘Fooock’ in the title of blog posts.

We’re not all pompous nuts who think we’re beyond the proper spelling of such words. We just don’t want our entries to be blocked from archive listings or search engines to those searching from within the UAE.

This is a lesson I was taught during my month or so of blogging, and a number of people I’m sure are yet to learn. Words like ‘sex’ or ‘bitch’ are yet to be blocked and I’m guessing it’s because of the multiple definitions that apply to them. But the word ‘pussycat’ seems beyond the vocabulary of the powers that be here. Figuring out which words are blocked and which ones are not takes a bit of trail and error on our part, as Keefieboy, a UAE blogger since September 2004 learned the hard way on July 14^th 2006.

Anyway, this the prompt of my next post. I got annoyed while trying to look up something silly and girly up and I can’t help but wonder how many other people in the UAE are looking for the same sorts of thing, so soon enough I’ll be posting a tip-list of sorts for romance addicts because I’m one of them.

I Could Not Have said it Better Myself

Aside from the very serious message the President of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez is making, this is comedic and made me laugh at least once in the beginning. I have no idea if this is an old clip, or a new one but it made my day. I bet it’ll make yours too!

Once again, I got annoyed by the automatic play of this video. Click on the link to view it.

You’re not Blessed. You’re a Twat.

Are you one of those lucky people that leaves the house whenever you please and never have to face traffic on Dubai roads, excepting say the initial three minutes it takes to move from the far right lane, on whatever busy road you’re at, to the far left lane?

Do you think the rest of the UAE exaggerates their traffic rage and complains too much, because you can cruise at a cool 80km/h and there’s rarely a car in sight, excepting the ‘speedsters’ flying by you on the right, weaving in and out of other cars?

Here’s a little logic dipshit, you’re not blessed; you’re an asshole who is pissing everyone else off by causing miles and miles of traffic behind you. If there’s absolutely NO traffic in your lane in front of you, but every three seconds someone passes you on the right because you’re too much of an ass to move for someone who flashes you, or rides on the ass of your car (because you’ve forced them to), YOU ARE the fucking problem on Dubai roads.

Fact: If you’re driving slowly enough, even the cars going UNDER the speed limit will be out of sight just moments after passing you, thus the free-lane in front of you.

Fact: People behind you will curse you after catching up to you and realizing you and you alone are the one responsible for the last 20 or 30 minutes of traffic they had to face.

You are an inconsiderate ass. And that’s all there is to it.

If you’re the bitch in the dark saloon I watched drive just this way last night around 7pm on Shk Zayed road near Holiday Inn, before I passed you on the right, then watched in my rear-view mirror as multiple cars flashed-you, rode your ass then finally passed you also on the right, I’m talking to YOU specifically just now. You are more inconsiderate than every flasher and every person who has cursed you on the roads put together. Hell, I even throw in the few who probably swerved into you as they were forced to pass you, out of rage from your ignorant behavior and still call you the least considerate of the bunch.

Where’d the Bitch Go?

I’m almost hesitating to post this, because it seems to me like my bitch (you know, the one that’s always showing her face around here) has been taking a rest for the last few posts and well, this will just keep her there all that longer. But I’m going to do it anyway, especially for Jin, because from her comments I believe she can relate to these sorts of sentimental mommy things just wonderfully.

So, keeping the bitch at bay for just a little while longer, Jin… here are those prints I was telling you about:

On a real canvas, in Acrylic paint, signed, dated and varnished to hang on the wall for years to come; my baby and I were rolling in paint yesterday. It was fun! Now, we’ve got something even he’ll cherish when he’s old enough to see just how much he’s grown.