i always knew i would be an influential person one way or another.

at different, random times during the past few weeks my friends spotted, documented and sent me pics ala random. i think they caught the bugf.

Phay spotted this very aggressive, sexist sign on the ladies bathroom at ikea

Jenna found this box of chocolai6 biskwi6s maaaam on the floor of the jam3iya. just so u know, she didnt pick it up.

Nwair followed these wonderfully civilized ppl. iz funf to be mistakenf for a goatf!

Kuki s’hail laughed at this mannequin. the cool dude image wasnt necessary tasteful, especially for a kid’s clothing store.  wat the hell?

i have neglected my blogf for so long; i guess it started feeling like a chore to write up new posts.

i have a 6on of pictures for ur visual pleasure, but uploading is a slut so i will probably be doing that later on. i gave u false hope didnt i? ha ha!

now timef forf postf. fff. part I of III.

typically, i am a healthy person. however, throughout the years i have had quite a number of medical mishaps; not with the injuries or my health, but with the doctorsf.

mishapf 1:

Bahrain, 1990.

i fell asleep in front of the tv so my eldest sister thought ehya gadha o tgdar tsheelni o twadeeni frashi. so she dragged me by my arms to my bed. She then proceeded to fling me onto my bed. very unfortunately, i had a four post bed and a sister that throws like a girl. having ur 7 yr old face smashed onto a bed post is not a fun way to wake upf.

i was then taken to the hospital by my parents, while my Filipina nanny Mama Tina continually screamed at me to change out of my bloody felix the cat pajama dress…not because it was bloody but because she thinks Arabs are pedophiles. Here comes the mishap. The only doctor that was free at the time was Dr. Jawad. He was severely cross eyed.

instead of requesting another doctor to stitch up my swollen busted lip, my parents must have thought it was hilarious to let him do it. he did, they laughed, i craughed (cry/laugh hybrid). i guess thats where i get my humor from. we went home, and found my sister in thoob salat (praying attire) and frantically reading the quran. hahhahhhahahahaha she was scared my dad would kilf her, but he just laughed at her.

mishapf 2:

before i start, always get several medical opinions. ud be surprised how easily doctors can misdiagnose your condition.

one adolescent spring, i felt abnormally nauseas. it went on for almost a week until i told my mother i was feeling sick. a room search and an abrasive interrogation later, she was convinced i wasnt pregnant and told me to see a doctor. i went to al amiri and was looked at by an incredibly hairless kuwaiti doctor. Fifteen minutes, a cold examination and a series of questions later, he scribbled something on his super important medical pad and excused himself. the bastard went to have a tea break. I took the liberty of looking through his desk only to see the scribble reading:

انوركسيا

Now will someone plz explain how an obviously fat person that smells like chocolate and with no intention of slowing down be diagnosed with anorexia?

too bad we didnt have camera phones back then, i would have taken a picture. i wonder how different suspic’s school life is than mine was with the invention of the camera phone. i would have abused that privilege.

those were the unfortunate medicalf mishapsf in my memories. twas cool tho.

]]> http://mirimthemirim.wordpress.com/2008/06/23/medicalf-mishapsf-i/feed/ Mrm dvgvppppq anorex http://mirimthemirim.wordpress.com/2008/05/24/scaryf-summerf/ http://mirimthemirim.wordpress.com/2008/05/24/scaryf-summerf/#comments Sat, 24 May 2008 14:19:33 +0000 Mrm http://mirimthemirim.wordpress.com/?p=334

ive noticed a pattern with some of these floaties being sold; there’s something quite off with each one i saw.

she looks scared shitless. should she really be modeling for this product?

is anyone else creeped out by this little girl? why arent the kids enjoying themselves!

hahaha the floaty is terrified in this one!!! hahahahahahaffff!!!!

yeah its a scaryf summerf

Get ur matches and ur gas! burn the hall and take out the trash!

Democracy is mediocrity.

Kuwait, u did it again! yay democracy :D

now that i have abruptly gotten ur attention, i would like to apologize to my 9 readers for my absence.

my absence did not involve:

• falling seriously ill. mrmf finef.
• donating my time and effort to some parliamentary candidate  with an aggressively revolutionary outlook on ‘change’, promising a brighter future with selfless dedication. eat my ass. its been the same shit since the mid 90s, nothing has progressed in this country. what peeves me is the voters  dont seem to care about these empty promises, they just remain loyal to a candidate that time and time again was proven to be worthless and useless. any progression such as women’s rights, nabeeha 5 and the segregation issue (still pending) has been pushed by the people through demonstrations. luff u, u makef me lil optimisticff.
• getting hitched.

• having finesse; tripped on a step during a funeral. wasnt an ordinary trip, it was one of those shin shattering, teeth clattering trips where my sun glasses which were resting quite comfortably on my head fell onto my nose. no one would have noticed, but because god loves to laff at me, the place had gone painfully silent at the exact moment god got his giggles. the slap of my slipper on the large polished tiles gave out a bitch of an echo, which diffused veeeery nicely into every corner of the house. ppl that were not in perimeter started to peek out trying to see who caused the blasphemous disturbance. plz god, choose someone else next time i am not ur clown.

and now for some virginastic fun! hymen gel!

i am involved in a very serious relationship with my balcony. my commitment to balconf surpasses all others, balconf’s the one.

i see balconf every night…lounging, laughing, playing, staring, belonging… i get lost in another world with balconf. a nonchalant, breezy and almost frivolous world where spirits automatically reject disturbances.

endless spectrums of pleasure with balconf, pleasure no other balcony has bestowed upon me. i fantasize and daydream about being together. when we are apart, i fantasize about balconf so intensely that it has distracted me from several conversations where i was required to respond, which i hate. i never have to respond to balconf, just being together is a euphoric journey on its own.

balconf is my happy place when im in a painfully awkward or boring situation. balconf takes me there, all the way. my mind aches without u.

unconditional availability, balconf is always there. the first thing i see in the morning, and the last thing i see at night. our bond is sanctified, holy in all its glory.

yes, that is a balcony view on my background; waikiki, hawaii.

ur so glad theres a new post arent u?

pace urselves, u shall have that thick, rich mrm goodness soon, very soonf. swearf.

today’s post is about chirp. she told me to do this a week ago but i had more leisurely things to do like hibernate.

i had to take some ppl to shi3ib park (yes, i had to. mrm is provoked when dragged somewhere but luckily i had not snapped. wantf balconyf), and had a great time with a few friends and our child chirp.

that was not by any means nurturing of me, she literally was a child! she wouldnt get on any games as she was ‘im afraid’ and would rather eat a cup of corn, which she did. she pointed out a couple of rides she would be willing to go on and would u fucking take a guess what they were? the swings that go round and round at the speed of a famished mosquito and the kiddy firefighter merry-go-round. i did manage to get her to go on these rides. by manage i mean forceful action.

how appropriate, theres a cake in the shot! for those that r unaware, chirp is the mr.baker of our sad, sad gang.

technically this isnt a ride, but she agreed to stand next to this figure. im glad u didnt find this scary as well chirp. this fotof is to emphasize chirps size. this figure is claimed to be a model of the tallest man on record. u perv stop pointing there. chrpf naughtttyff!

i hope that this tribute has pleased out of place chirp.

enioyy!

I heard that mbarak hospital has made extensive renovations in the past year or so, and today i had the unfortunate opportunity to see them. it was quite alright i guess… but i say unfortunate because in a country as wealthy as Kuwait, you’d fukn expect the place to be made of gold.

the ups and downs of a poorly planned project ahead.

i shall start with the ups.

i am so glad the hospital has evolved into one that actually uses signs instead of permanent marker scribbles  or notebook paper taped onto the door. alsof, the door knob is CLEAN…many ppl really dont value a clean door knob. the last place you wana have to touch a dirty door knob is in the hospital.  mbarak administration gets a doggy treat for this longly awaited occasion. +1

again, i cannot emphasize the often forgotten value of a clean hospital…reflections can be seen! and from the floor! this place was once dancing with rats! applaudf! Another treat, good boys. +1.

And as random as this is, at least the 18 Filipino muslims will have an ad3eeya book to read if they get sick. Who’re the good boys? you r! +1

intlx- ad3eeya=small book with excerpts of the Quran, im assuming in this case is to help the healing process spiritually.

and now, i will proceedf with the badf. Bad admin bad!

i mean it very literally when i say emaciaty wudnt be able to fit into this closet, severely emaciated as she is. mbarak? fuckfaces? 5million+ renovation budget and you couldnt make the closets just 10 inches wider? oh right…u each had to get that sports car for ur daughter, the Euro shopping sprees for ur wife, that house for your second wife, that apartment for ur north african mistress, the never ending investments u keep making knowing absolutely nothing about how it works and the bribes u r obligated to give so that ur money laundering will be hushed. ive over reacted, but ud be surprised how often this happens. -1

many people just cannot stand airplane food. its always complaints about the bread being too hard, the food too bland, the odor too strong and the choices too limited. next time ur snobby appetite starts bitching when ur being served a meal on a plane, think about what these sick ppl have to eat here at mbarak hospital in kuwait, one of the wealthiest countries in the world. were such a landfill of a waste.

torn wrappers, broken and possibly used containers, a stale kiri sandwich, and an unidentifiable slither of a slice pie…il7mdallah wishikr infashil. i am truly horrified and embarrassed.

i upload this ’salad’ photo in disgust. -1

apparently, only the wards had been renovated. all the staircases, bathrooms and waiting halls have stayed just the same. not surprisingly, the photo below of the staircase is actually what some of the wards looked like. admin, u failf very miserably. -1

total rally:

ups-3

downs-3

because it is a tie, i have stated earlier that i guess the hospital was ok. i only felt diseased 15% of my time there, thats very good.

those were the meaningless, unfortunate critiques of my day. twas almost cool tho

this is not typical mrm material, i apologize.

i dedicate this metaphorical Beirut post to emaciaty, now u cryf ok?

(taken from maze-of-thoughts.blogspot.com )

I used to be a beautiful city. Some people say I’m still as beautiful as I was before… I don’t like me anymore. I scare my kids away. I kill my people unintentionally. I starve them to death. I even turn some of their brightest days to a funeral in a split of a second.
Every day I stand there, waving to all these people, mostly young, leaving on these big airplanes, jealousy kills me, knowing that they will go and enjoy grocery shopping in a street I’ve never heard of, smiling to a stranger who doesn’t even know where their country is, working hard and becoming successful. I wish they could be here with me, becoming successful with me. I feel helpless without them, thousands and thousands leave, few come back while I sit waiting and waiting and waiting?
A girl came to me the other day, young and beautiful? Wearing that white dress made her look like an angel. Stood at the ‘Corniche’ with a coffee in her hand. She was staring at the sea with words coming out of her eyes
‘I miss you Beirut.
I miss your weather, miss your sea breeze.
I miss staring at you at night from my bedroom balcony when the world is sleeping and there is only you and I miss feeling loved.
I miss belonging to you, miss feeling the security.
You don’t know how hard it is to wake up every morning wondering if your parents or friends are ok, until you read the news and make few phone calls in case there was an explosion? Try harder Beirut
Tears filled my eyes and anger filled my heart? Didn’t know what to say to comfort her! My body is heavy and scattered, my land enjoys blood and every now and then one of my veins explodes and many of my innocent kids die. I can’t help it… I try…
‘I want to come back and live here Beirut, next to my family, next to my dad and brother? I want to raise my kids in Beirut, just the way I was raised? Never knew the difference between a Muslim, a Christian, or a Jew; never heard about terrorism. Want my kids to grow up on discipline, respect, beliefs, freedom and mostly integrity.
What happened to you Beirut? You’re no longer the same?
I turned and left, didn’t want to hear her anymore? She kept calling me but I never answered… She broke my heart, only because she was telling me the truth! I’m no longer Beirut she once enjoyed when she was 4. They took my magic away?
Ashamed I am. I starve my people to death; I have no shelter for them anymore, no security, no love among each other. I’m in pain, I want to endure more, maybe, maybe someday my people will understand the pain I’m going through and help me stand instead of walking all over me. I don’t blame them; they are hungry and poor?
She left on one of those big airplanes few days later, sad she looked back at me hoping to come back and see me at least in the same condition, but we both knew it was not the case; I screamed and screamed hoping for her to hear me?
I order you to come back? Yes I can’t promise you security but I promise you that you and me can make it together, come back and bring all those people who once left because I miss them, miss their faces and their laughs. Come back and fight for me, clean my body from rotten creatures, change the world for me, help me stand. I can’t do it alone.
I’m your city,
I’m your mother,
I’m your child,
I’m Beirut.