I’m not a mean man. Just one with a highly developed sense of vigilante-ism. *Dish!* Dor-Dor! Whack!

I’m sitting in front of the computer trying to blog, but I don’t think it’s gonna work too well. First of all, between home and work, very few interesting things have happened. Second of all, I am brain dead and sleep depraved….err…deprived. I haven’t gotten to bed before 2 am once this week, and I have worked every day except Thursday…when I had a party instead. Today is Friday, (Happy Friday Everybody!) and I have the evening off work today. You know what I’m gonna do with it? Other than type a low-calorie, low-substance blog? I’m gonna lay down on the sofa and pleasantly snooze away the hours with a pillow on my face. That, dear friends, is true quality time.

Because my evening class was cancelled I wasn’t able to find out the phone number for the kick-boxing lady from my student. I have to wait till Monday now, in the mean time, I’m dreaming about all the teeth I’m gonna release from peoples’ jaws. Mwahaaaahaaaa! -ahem- Actually the thought of kicking someone’s teeth out makes me feel slightly ill…I was talking to a friend of mine the other day about killing people. (This conversation was directly related to meeting mashers in the bazaars) and she said she wouldn’t dream of killing someone unless they were trying to hurt her kids. Me, I don’t have kids, but as it is, I don’t think I could kill someone unless they were trying to kill me first. I also wouldn’t be able to stab anyone unless I was sure it wouldn’t kill them. It’s just too much: the thought of hearing the serrated edge of a knife go shredding through muscles and tendons…::shudders::

Thank God I’ve never had to try to stab anyone. (Or ever to defend myself, Alhamdulillah) See, that’s what brothers are for. If you have two giant ones (like me 😀 ) then you can sic them on whoever deserves it (but ONLY people who deserve it, otherwise, it’s vicarious tyranny instead of retributive justice). I remember once in high-school, some jerk kid kept trying to pull my scarf off, he would come up behind me in the hall and give it a yank and then take off. So I told my elder bro, and presto, the offending idiot was pulled into the boys bathroom one day and beaten into a soft and remorseful pulp.

Ok, enough khoon-kwari. (violence, gore, bloodiness) I shall share some good news instead. I am pleased to announce that our supply of post-party leftovers is still holding out. There are still two dozen pastry puffs, six chicken fajita roll-ups, half of a jello mold, an apple pound cake, nine rolls from the Afghani Bakery, and a bowl of pasta salad. This means that we won’t have to cook for another two meals. The apple streusel coffee cake never saw first light of the day after the party though, Inna Lilla…

Hey Crayon! You’re welcome to pop in and help us scarf it all down! (whatever’s left of it after tea-time anyway, and hey, my Turks said we were setting the backgammon board up funny, I drew a little diagram of what they showed me so we can compare notes) And Chai too, come over dear, the only thing better than a party is the leftovers. And Aniraz, you already live here, stop eating all the cake! Momma, Aniraz hit me with a roll!

(Queue chaos)

To my fellow scarfies/hijabis/ninjas: we should compose one of those silly top-ten lists, for You Know You’re a Hijabi When… Here’s my contribution.

(drum roll please)

You have tan lines…on your forehead.

Here’s our Islamic quote of the day. I like it lots. “Recite that which has been inspired in thee of the Scripture (Qur’an), and establish prayer. Lo! The prayer preserves from lewdness and iniquity, and verily, the remembrance of Allah is more important. And Allah knows what ye do.” The Holy Qur’an, 29:45

Hmmm, now the skeptic sez: I knew this Moozlim guy who prayed five times a day and beat his wife with a tasbih and had an affair with his camel and then flew his rug down to the pub to have a few pints with us…

And I sez: The verse obviously does not apply to what I shall call, ‘Bogus Prayer’. Bogus Prayer is the equivalent of the Muslim Macarena. There are many people who do ‘Bogus Prayer’ one minute and then run off and do something highly haram five minutes later. Well, what do you expect from a prayer where you put zero religious thought, concentration, or zhikr into it? You might as well be dancing cuz with bogus prayer you’re just going through the motions.

Real Prayer, with a capital P, is a reminder of the obligations you have to man and God, and a reset-button on your stress levels for the day, and a bunch of other nice things that help cultivate Taqwa/God-consciousness in the worshipper. Remember my SARS? The Splendid Acute Religiousness Syndrome? Well, Prayer gives you SARS, ok?

Skeptic sez: Egad! Those Moozlims have d’zeezes! Run for yer life!


Abez is a 50% white, 50% Pakistani, and 100% Muslim. She is also chronically ill and terminally awesome. She is the ever-lovin Momma of: - Khalid, a special little boy with autism - Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair -Musfira, an especially devious baby Spoiler, Abez is also Zeba Khan on Muslimmatters.org.

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