Comprehensive Calligraphy

          Yes, everyone, it's true, this really IS my third post in two days. New personal record. Gold medal and red carpet treatment for me then. I've only bothered to write this thing is because I've promised a really good friend of mine, that I will. And, I did, duh. This means that this post will revolve entirely around things we both have discussed in the near or far past, present or future, so, don't be alarmed if you understand absolutely nothing, but be comforted that, someone out there actually knows what I'm talking about.

          Kids. 4 letters, big meanings. Small brats who poop their pants, drool all over the Persian carpet and yell all the time, or adorable little beings with soft skin and limited intelligence and life-expertise that makes us wan to go all aww? You be the judge. The ability to fall in love instantaneously with a wrinkled, red, hairy grubby creature that's been leeching nutrients off you-making it the biggest form of parasite ever, right after that jerk of a roommate we all have- has always been something experienced, and enjoyed, by women. The same can't be said for men, who, for obvious reasons, have a natural aversion to anything wrinkled, hairy, red or anything that couldn't be placed on the cover of Vogue anyway. Women who are good with children are really attractive to men, though, so it can be all-bad, can it? We learn to live with it, because some things are more important than others, such as, hmm, gouda cheese and Old Spice cologne.

          Huge bosoms attract men. Granted. Moustaches do not. Granted. What I do find inexplicable is, despite all the pretenses men give while around their guy-friends, which may, or may not, include references to the redhead who just passed by, or to the foreign girl they just happened to take home the other night, they still manage to fall for charm that does not require eyes and  a hugely-sexually-centred visual centre in the brain. Men still can appreciate efficiency, sweetness and care, but they are still confusing idiots, make no mistake. Try again in a couple of thousand millenia, maybe evolution would have helped.

          It's funny how laughter can hold so many different meanings, if you set your mind to it. It also intrigues me how women can kickbox all day and still feel pain they can't help but feel. It's also funny how, at the end of the day, life goes on no matter how much crap is dumped all over our heads and despite everything we do to get ourselves to live with it. Life goes on, senorita, so you'd better keep going. Don't stop.

"We can have vasectomies, hysterectomies, tonsillectomies, but, even though people can technically remain physiologically alive without hearts, we've never head of a cardiectomy. Now you mention it, we haven't heard of a cerebrectomy either." - Ismail El-Kharbotly, open for interpretation.

Underrating Machine Guns

          So, this marks the first blog post I happen to write while being food-deprived, which, as the people closest to me would know, is the third most dangerous state to be in. Food depravity, combined with dreams of cannibalistic party-goers and shiny neon green toxic bugs, are enough to drive anyone to the very brink of extinction. I had a theory a coupe of days back that the dinosaurs died out because they did not have the opposable thumbs to invent TV or writing, and after several million years of life on Earth, there are only so many things you can do, so one day, they just decided watching swamp plants die is too damn boring, and they just, I don't know, jumped off a cliff or something. Luckily, us humans managed to just discover fire before we got this insane, and with the discovery of fire came the habit of sitting around fireplaces,grilling stuff and talking, as a means of entertainment. Did anyone notice that the word 'discovery' had the word 'disco' in it?

          After wasting a number of potential hours reading a book that comprised the Nordic god Thor, a green immortal alien who thrived on drinking every form of beer present in the universe and insulting people in alphabetic order, I have come to think that maybe the Infinite Improbability Drive thing could work. I like how the word Froody sounds. Reminds me of Fred Flinstone. Never liked him.

          People have accused me of hogging a mind that was an exceedingly entertaining place to live. Matter of fact, some even went as far as to suggest that I have invented a new form of hallucinogenic form of liquor that has permanent effect. This can not happen, and therefore, has not. Why? Because, had I invented this form of liquor, I would have had such creative energy in me to have burned my way through all the pleasures of life, and got so bored by the time I became 30 I built a time machine so I can go back in time and keep myself company with the only person I feel really understands me, most of the time. Me. However, since I do not have a mega cool middle-age friend who's just as awesome as I am, add the great gizmos of the future, then, yeah, I'm not on that amazing liquor thing. Sorry.

          Someday I'll create a new superweapon made of an emo kid with the ability to absorb all negative emotions from the world and use it to self destruct, killing everyone around him/her. This new weapon will make super rich and famous because its usage will be a win-win situation: I get money, the emo kid dies and gets his misery over with, the world loses its content of negative emotion for a while, everyone is happy, the dead people won't have to pay taxes anymore and the people who deployed the bomb got what they wanted. Everybody wins. Maybe I'll offer different models: one with goth kids, others with ghetto kids. This last one will be superb, it can even squirt kool-aid after it's been detonated. Some people would call me a racist, but then I'd give them my talk about the new idiot Drake, yeah, the one who supposedly raps, but that's another story.

          So, until next time friends, make sure your poodles are kept away from next winter's supply of ponchos. Sayonara!

I can see a hard disk, silver  on top, black and green below,
I have no idea why people use things at parties to make their teeth glow,
Must be a new novelty, but hey, next thing you know,
The next big thing would be to have a double chin grow.

Glazed Pottery

          I've been receiving tons of letters from the masses of fans I have out there asking me questions about my personal life, but, today, I choose to share some with you, my readers, fans, haters, and mother (if she managed to find her way here):

Question #457: Ismail, do you prefer electric or manual toothbrushes?
Answer: Manual: They're free to operate, they cost less, and nobody needs more excuses to laze off toothbrush duty. Plus, it comes in more colours. gotta love colours.

Question #385: Dear Ismail, we salute you from an alternate dimensional Earth where us Nazis have managed to create a pan-dimensional radio to listen to your show and transmit your message, and we would like to ask what is your take on the Fuehrer?
Answer: Well, I'd suggest the Fuehrer lose the mustache, this is 2010 for crying outloud, and tell him I say hi, and to thank his mum for her delicious crab cakes.

Question #21: Ismail El-Kharbotly: How do you manage to stay so thin?
Answer: It's a genetic trick developed by my ancestors so that all the ladies would want to have my babies to make sure their kids are as thin as I am. It's working.

Question #409: What inspired you to write your world famous best-seller "Ismail El-Kharbotly's Guide to Understanding Those Shopping-Obsessed Humanoids We Call Women"?
Answer: Well, this might come out as a shock to some fans, but it's really quite simple: I wanetd to write a guide that has my name on it for people who don't understand women, who happen to be humanoids by the way, and who like to shop. The inspiration stemmed from the eternal clash that results between a guy thinking something is gay, which would translate in a woman's mind as sweet. Men hate shopping.

Question #7658: How are you so warm?
Answer: People never believe me when I tell them I'm so hot I'm on FIIIIIIREE, on the inside, that is. Their loss.

Question #998: How do you always keep a smile on our faces?
Answer: By being a good person, helping the old and the poor, teaching the young, driving safely, and eating sugar responsibly. I never take medications without my doctor's prescription, and I eat all my veggies and leave nothing on the table, so I grew up to be big and strong!

Question #45: Who do you think will find this blogpost worth reading?
Answer: I could say something as dramatic as "I write to satisfy the muse within me, not to please any man" but then again, maybe no one will. Does it make a difference?

Question # 768: Waht do you pride yourself on?
Answer: My ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere. Comes in handy.

Question #9976: What's next?
Answer: What's next is that I'll end this blogpost, but first:

I like baked beans, I don't like cauliflower,
I like disco I can feel the power,
But disco is dead and Elvis is from outer space,
He left the critics hanging and went on to a better place.


No idea what Elvis has to do with disco though.

          So, I'm back to my infrequent blog posts, and back to the country. Traveling's nice, it's good for you. Try it. Marina's not considered traveling. Marina sucks. Too boring, too typical, and everyone goes and stays there for extended periods of time. Boring much? Don't get me started on how the humidity makes your hair stick to the nape of ur neck. Just don't.
   
          I'm actually posting this particular post because my only 4 readers have all promised to pay me for it. Maybe I should just ask for an exorbitant gift, such as, hmm, ear wax from people who carry the direct lineage of the original human races as they divided one by one from the main African ancestor. Fresh ear wax. Direct descendants too, mind.

         I recently bought this book called Guns, Germs and Steel. Regardless of its content, for some reason I can't help but think about how much more pleasant the title would sound with an alliteration.  It's called an alliteration, right? how about Guns, Germs and Gangsta Groove? Guns, Germs and Ganja? Guns, Germs and Goliath? Guns, Germs and Gacob Glack? (sorry, that was the only way I could let it fit in, sorry Team Edward ladies).

         One thing I never quite got the hang of at gyms. Why are all the weights large and made of steel? Can't they make smaller sized weights packed with high density material to crete high weights? or is it the fact that putting seemingly-large weights on helps give athletes a psychological boost?


          Seriously? Irish coffee?

          No idea why I just typed that, I swear.

          Akon must be the biggest asshole in the history of hip hop. When rappers talk abuot women, they talk only vaguely, they do't promise women money and love and whatsnot, but Akon, Akon promises each girl the world, then moves onto another girl in the next song with different promises, then goes out to talk about peping at the neighbour. Serious. Issues.

           When  hear the Forrest Gump quote "Life's like a box of chocolates, you never know what you'll get" I keep on wondering why the hell didn't anyone bother to read the ingredients or product escription on the back of the box.

I fire my laser beam, you scream, 
Your suit shuts down, your gun stops firing,
You stop wearing moisturising cream, it might seem,
It's all over, Laser Tag is no longer inspiring.

Players' Ball

        Hello again, midgets. It's your favourite blogger back in the biz after a little bit of a break, but now that exams are over and Snoop is blaring around, it's time to give y'all a piece of my mind yet again. Let's start with my favourite topic, the cat, who developed less masculine ways to lie on the cold ceramic floor to cool himself down. I'm thinking about submitting his poses to National Geographic, see what they think about him. Stupid little furball.

         "And got no money in my pocket but I'm already here". Oh, sorry, anyway, so, like I was saying, now that my Oral exams (no, I don't mean the perverted definition) are done, with their pros and cons, it's time to sit back, put my feet up and focus on what really matters in life: being awesome. Now, those who know me best know that awesomeness is not a phase, it's not a condition, it' a state of mind. You will, and you are. Kinda like telepathy, or something, but way more awesome.

         Why does it smell like kitty litter?

          Has it occurred to anyone before that Oxford actually means "Ox Bridge"? I mean, if you study at Oxford, you're studying whatever at a bridge made for oxen. Good luck with that. Which reminds me, you should read into the creation of Stanford University, it's an interesting story. Reminds me of Shakira's rise to fame. Really. Her first label kicked her out because she "sounds like a goat".

          "What's common between guys and cars? They both release gas, you can turn both on with just a switch, they're both hard and costly to maintain". Just made that up.

           How come Sanaweya 3amma students can cry and yell and scream and mope and faint and attempt suicide because an exam was even marginally unexpected, while we can just slam our heads into a cactus if we're plain miserable? Ironically, those Sanaweya 3amma people moan and whine and weep so thaty they can get themselves into our position. Funny, eh?

          I'm bored, so, until next time, but first, let's all chant the magical verses:

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Ain't no one more fake gangsta,
Than Lil' Wayne and his crew!

Money!

        So, I'm back. Just finished my "Behavioural Sciences" exam, which is a pathetic attempt by the Psychiatry department to introduce ethics into the curriculum in an overall pathetic attempt to earn recognition for Cairo University Medical school among its fellows abroad. One problem, isn't the fact that it is STILL not recognised a major indication that everyone is stupid and everything is screwed up despite every feeble attempt they try? Never mind.

        You know you're in trouble when your music player shuffler gives you a recording of Anatomy class and you keep on listening to it for 10 minutes before realising that this goes against human nature. It's anatomy, people, so yeah, switched to Eluveitie. Nil is a good song. T.I playing now, and I need to know if he talks to his mama with that horrible accent, and more importantly, whether his mama actually understands what he has to say or not.

       Out of all the charming topics available for discussion that fall under the header of "Interesting Enough to be Actually Worth My Time" I chose the "Mineral Resources of Greenland and the Results of its Partial Separation from Denmark" to discuss. Apparently there's more to the topic than you'd actually think.

        The cat is scratching himself behind the ear, and he's doing it in a way that makes it look so easy, so enjoyable, with the way he closes his eyes in enjoyment as the annoying feeling subsides. Lucky cat.

        Well, that's all for today, just thought I'd drop y'all a line or two, keep in touch and all. And remember, the game's called "Simon Says" for a reason. Toodles.

Blog Header Creation

          What up Cairo? I've been really mad at the poor innocent header I had on top of my blog. I mean, it's not its fault it's so boring and pathetic, it's mine, so I decided to remedy that like all good surgeons do: cut, slice, chop, then discard and replace. After three photoshoping attempts, three people working on ideas and plenty of hours which I'll regret not using for anatomy letter when my sorry ass realises the error of its ways, I've come up with this horrible masterpiece you see before you, or technically, you will if you scroll right up.

          So, yeah, seeing as I'm not really in a blogging mood, I'll end this post here, just thought I should pass a couple of shouts out to those who, well, deserve tribute:

-Here's a shout out to my cat who has tolerated with patience all the mockery and ridicule I throw upon it. Thanks for being so patient and not returning the favour, outloud. You know I only do it because I love you? Yeah, didn't think it'd work either.

-Here's a shout out to everyone who's bothered to live, and put up, with the pain that is myself, and this extends to my sister, my bedside table, my cellphone, my faithful PC, the cat, the fridge and my (resigned sigh) parents.

-This one goes out to the excellent people at CBS who keep Barney Stinson's blog updated, and yes, smartass, there really is a blog.

-I'd like to reserve a shout to the three dudes who thankfully keep any negative views on my various endeavours, theories or means to maintain my line of thought and style of life, quiet and to themselves: Mahmuod Bondok, I told you you should have taken that AS chemistry exam, but hey, guess what, you didn't, I did, and I think you got the better end of the equation, and funny thing is, I'm not even begrudging, as long as, well, you know what's your favourite quote is out of all those listed in your facebook profile. To  Abdelrahman El Magharbel whom I doubt would be reading this blog, thanks for teaching me the importance of very loud music and for your usual phrase "law 3ayez tet5ane2 f ay wa2t kallemny", because I know that if I do call, you'll let me down with a gentle and totally buyable excuse, which is much more than most people would provide. To Andrew Middleton, thank you for putting up with my moaning on a regular day basis, even though you cheap ass colonist need to raise your average word count per sentence, as well as your average sentence count per hour. 2 is not enough, homeboy. Oh and dude, go to the gym, it'll do you good with the cuties.

-This one goes out to all the ladies out there whom I've pissed out for some reason or another. Ladies, you know I only do it cause I love y'all, don't you? Still not buying it? Well, since my secret superpower is getting people really really mad, I'd like to give you a (shudder) kinda apology thingie, for, you know, everything. If we meet again, we'll pretend this conversation never took place.

-Last but not least, this one goes out to all ma coma people, and I'd like y'all to know, by the time you read this, you won't have missed anything important, and, well, it's all cool, like it's always been, and, well, if it had to happen, it had to happen. Respect.

          Finally, I'd like to close this blog post with one line I've pondered on lately :"If women are Broads, does  that mean we can call men Narrows?"