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?"

Spinach and Cupcakes

           Feeling like a little green Martian at El Gezira Club, feeling like a total nutcase at Kasr Al Ainy, feeling like a hobo right back at home, and feeling lost walking down my street ..

          So, what can achievements we look back on, a thousand years from now, and and credit the United States of America for their creation? What do we acknowledge as being American nowadays, and what will we still call American so far along the future? Burgers? Certainly. "The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence"? Sure. Chuck Norris? Fo shizzle. Cocky business tycoons in cowboy hats and a Texan accent? Good riddance.

          I've got a human quote reader sitting by my side, she won't stop reading quotes from a book she's just discovered. Hold on *snatches book from her hand*. It's called Happy creatures, and it's got all sorts of pink and green psychedelic creatures drawn all over the cover. No, wait, these are palms and angels. Whatever, whoever heard of a purple angel anyway?

          Yeah, well, sorry, I'm not in a very talkative mood tonight, so I'll just cap this post off early, but, before I go, allow me to remind you of one of the principles people live by: "If it breathes fire and you're a sissy, you're probably gonna end up fried".

Buffalo Bill

Welcome back, try to ignore Lil Wayne wheezing about guns and the fact that he's so high you can't reach him with an antenna, whatever that means, but then again, he's Lil' Wayne, you're not even supposed to hear the inaudible groans and wheezes he's releasing. Pretend Neil Patrick Harris isn't lecturing you about what you should do to warn a bro of the presence of a fine damsel in the vicinity. Let's pretend B.o.B isn't pretending he was never B.o.B AKA Bobby Ray, with that Hayley something chick in the background with her urge to pretend airplanes are shooting stars. Honey, no one's stopping you from pretending anything, you don't have to sign it sweetly between verses, no matter how mellow and adorable is the singing. I love your voice sweetheart, but seriously, stop, you're making me go soft. Let's shift to the dude who thinks he's a rubber band and for some reason thinks he's wilder than the Taliban, yeah, the song's from way back, 2003, when Taliban was actually a hotter topic than Brangelina. And seriously, what's up with Drake being the "second hottest rapper in the game"? The dude's probably Canadian, and he hasn't released a proper LP yet. MTV, get a life.

On a note that is totally unrelated to my playlist, Today was a Good Day. Well, not totally irrelevant to my playlist, this one is one of my fav Ice Cube songs. Anyway, really now, it was a good day, apart from one tennis-related incident and the fact that I went high on sugar and the fact that I was craving caramel ice cream and pretzels, I had fun. On a completely unrelated note, what's a bit of parsley doing on my keyboard?

How many of y'all would listen to any mixtape I'd bother to release?

I had two ideas for this paragraph, but after typing both I decided to remove them because they were insanely boring. One was about the time and the one time I almost missed my physiology practical exam, and the other was about beetroot. I can not think think of anyone who thinks beet is of any significance... no, still can't find anyone. That's kinda why I didn't actually write about beetroot. A good question would be, if beetroot exists, wouldn't it follow logically that beetstem and beetleaf exist as well?

I just discovered that my msn has no start menu or desktop shortcut. I can't even find the source directory for some reason, so if it hadn't been for the fact that it starts on computer startup, I wouldn't have been able to use it. Kinda messed up, ain't it? No, it ain't, talking about the hyoid while playing squash is messed up,and yes, guilty as charged. And I don't want any smart guys telling me to create a desktop shortcut or something. Seriously, people.

AVG sucks. Table Tennis kicks ass. Tulips are better than gin, most of the time. White men can't jump. 7/11 saved humanity. Humans are the third most intelligent creatures on the planet, after dolphins and mice, according to the revered Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The answer to life, the universe and everything is 42. Even Google admits it. Seriously, search for "the answer to life, the universe and everything", and you'll see, and Google has all the answers you know, no matter what the Vatican claims.

According to E-40 "Good guys finish last and stay broke". And apparently, he "ain't just a rapper", he's an "event". Wise words, wise words, because, you know, you ain't gangsta if you aim a gun the right way up.

All in all, remember this rule: E=MC squared, so E= the power of two MCs, but unfortunately that rule died with 2Pac and when Ice Cube went for family movies. Oh, and when Lil Wayne actually got audience. No, seriously, my rule of the day is: "Dear Santa, you'se a bitch ass ni**a", and note the quotation marks.

Of Trees and Lil' Jon

So, hi, loads have been going on lately, between me researching the British equivalent of the phrase "That's what she said", examining the behaviour of ants near Sondos and the general area around the Faculty of Dentistry and the fact that my place has more grapefruit than steak, and I don't like grapefruit, I've found myself struggling with a complete computer failure that almost tempted me into removing Windows and installing Linux, a sister who wanted to sue Cadbury for not stating where exactly did they manufacture a particular Crunchie bar, the new levels of lateral squinting the cat's developed lately, and the fact that I've needed to set 7 different alarms to get me out of bed this morning.

So, ladies and, preferably, more ladies, we come down to the question of the day: Why is Ash Ketchum, the protagonist of the Pokemon anime, still around a very young age even though, after so many years, he should be like, 19, or 21, or something? Seriously, after about 10 films, 5 generations and god knows how many seasons, he still sounds more prepubescent than Justin Bieber? Come off it!

Another good question: Why do they call it Twitter? Does it turn people into twits? Seriously, and if it turns people into twits, what does the funky bird have to do anything? If the bird is relevant, it should be called Tweeter, don't you think? And what's with Google becoming a verb? Did you know that, if Google becomes a verb, it would be perfectly legal for, say, Microsoft to use it for their advertising? They can go like "Use Bing for all your fast googling!". Seriously, I read about it in a The Sun article last summer. Just popped right back into my head.

But enough about computing, I sure don't want it to become theme of today's blog. Let's try to ignore that I can see a banner supporting a dude called Amr El Yamany right outside my window. I happen to like palm trees, they're tall, they're sexy, and they're awesome.

NB: In response to a question plenty of fans keep on asking: No, I'm don't do drunk blogging.

So, Sayonara people, and always remember my motto for the day: If it's still wriggling, it probably isn't dead enough to cook yet.

Random, or Something Like It

So, hi. Me again. WAZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP? (as Habiba would say). How's everything going? How's the wife and kids? Grandma still thinks cars are sold for 300 bucks and that the Germans should get out of occupied France? Glad to know everything's normal back there. What? Oh yes, I'm quite fine, thank you for asking. Could use a coke though, but all in all I'm cool. Yes, I like fried chicken. Okay, cool. Yea.

But enough about me, and the fact that the cat just decided to use a bathroom sink as an elaborate chaiselongue. Let's talk about something interesting, something fun, something that's been on everyone's mind, one of those thing everyone experiences but no one mentions. Wars have been waged, famines have broken out, world leaders have been murdered, but this all disappears in the mind of the Average Joe when confronted with the ultimate question: Why the hell do I keep eating Chocolate Crisp bars if the goddamn crisp keeps on getting stuck between my teeth? Seriously, everyone should know better than that. I haven't eaten one of those in ages, because I've learned my lesson, but this goes out as a tribute to all my martyr friends who suffered.

Another highly relevant fact is that, right across the room, staring right back of me, is a tuft of soft wrapping fabric thingie they use to wrap gifts and stuff. And it's pink. And it's cute. And it's burning my eyes out of their sockets. Seriously, cootie alert, it's got glitter all over it too, and the real question is, what's it doing in the same room with the manliest creature within a 50 metre range (and no, I don't meant he cat, smart guy)? I can swear it's looking back at me, and it looks evil. Reminds me of the fact that the cat now weighs 4kg of pure belly fat and refined, deluxe stupidity. More stupidity than fat, and that's saying something. Just last night he almost fell out the window. 2 minutes later, he almost did it again, same way, same day, same window. Poor stupid dude. Yeah, excuse the randomness, I'm like that when I'm in this mood, which perhaps makes it befitting to be called a random mood, but it's not, actually. It's not a random mood at all.

Picture this, if you get a calculator or something, and start the random number feature, and you kept pressing the button like some trigger-happy moron or something, what do you get? A series of random numbers because you kept pressing the button like a moron, but the real question is, is there a connection between the numbers? I can hear you go all "who's the moron now? They're random, there's can't be a connection, duuuuuuuuuh" which would sound horribly cliché if you're a blonde girl and just plain horrible if you're not. Well, matter is, there is a connection. They are all RANDOM NUMBERS, so, philosophically speaking, does that make the random number feature perfect, or does it make it a useless paradox? you be the judge.

Back to the point. so, if this is not a random mood, I can hear you almost afraid to ask what other mood can generate such randomness. No, it's not Cuckoo mood, even though that's always a good option. We're talking more along the lines of "Elaborately Sporadic" mood, which even after using the dictionary, sounds more and more like Cuckoo mood (refer to the sound a cuckoo clock makes) by the second (and calculating these seconds would be another great use for that same cuckoo clock). The universe is sporadically arranged, sporadic, yet connected, and when you handle any one object and just examine the strings tying it to other things in the web of life, and discuss any one of those elaborately in a blog no one will bother to read, then congratulations, you have reached the Nirvana of the Elaborately Sporadic Mood.

I'd love to discuss all this further, maybe give some examples and all that too, but my fingers aren't too fond of the idea, and their protests are rather convincing. Oh, and there's also some pudding in the fridge I need to grab before my sister realises it's there. so, until next time friends, remember the 6 D's: Drive safely, Drink responsibly and Don't Do your laundry if you're a DuDe.

Pilot

Pilot

My First Ever Proper Blog Entry

Like, Ever

I like this font I used for the title, makes it look like a movie script or something that impressive. Anyway, hi, this is, in case you've missed what I was trying to say, my first proper blog and my first proper blog entry in, like, ever. The idea's been cooking in my head for a while, whether to have a blog or not, what am I gonna write, and who's gonna bother and read what junk I have to say anyway are a couple of questions I asked myself in the beginning. Oh, and I was too lazy to actually bother and create an account anyway. Recently, though, a close friend of mine was trying to prove a point, and she showed me her blog. One very long and eye-hurting reading experience later, I decided that, hey, who said any one's got to read what I have to say anyway. It's there, if anyone wants to read it,t hat's cool, if they don't, then, well, its not like I'm losing money or anything.

SooOoOoOoO , what do people write in their first blog entry, ever? Do they give a brief introduction of themselves, something along the lines of "Hi, I'm Jimmy. I run a B&B"? Or, maybe they just skip to the point, assuming that, if you've bothered to reach their blog, it probably means you know them to some extent. Maybe I'll mix the two techniques: "Hi everyone, y'all know me, and no, I don't run a B&B".

Second excruciatingly important point to discuss will have to be the sort of content I include in this blog. The blog title is not exactly something you can think highly of before you eat, but really, if you think about it, that's what I would want a blog for; to release the thoughts and ideas clogging my mental piping. So, that agreed, I think we should also agree that there will be no specific theme for this blog. Not sure what a particular entry is about? Read the damn thing.

So, okay, I'm not all great with official-sounding posts like this one or anything. I don't know how frequently will I updating this thing, but preferably frequently enough. Oh, and, hmm, all comments are welcome, all the time, as a blanket rule.

So that's all folks *plays the Looney Tunes theme music*