Good lord already it has been these several months! And what pray tell I was thinking!
Well, what can say but the weather in Mother Rashtra very nice at turn of year and few months beyond.
Now not so much, it is time to head for the hill station. Which, in my case particular, is Berkeley. Having taken a nice apartment overlooking Rose Garden, very English.
Visited all the familyjis and friendjis and prestonjis who must be said salam to, and having had some fabulousji shiny suits made by derji in central.
As drunken pilot said in J4 Movie, I’m baaaaack!
Now comes houmerus quote: “The failed car bomb attack on New York may give Pakistan a bad name, Interior Minister Rehman Malik says, because the man charged is of Pakistani origin."
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8662989.stm
"This unfortunate incident, having been done under the name of Pakistan or by a Pakistani will definitely bring a bad name to Pakistan, for which we are worried."
Bear patiently with me while I try to rearrange my face. Given blathering quotient of statement, and tender simplemindedness of honourable minister, this is proving utmost difficult.
I feel my jaw muscles ache and twitch uncontrollably, with utter desperation I clap my hands to my face and force it to be into calm dispassionate rigidity, and pinch myself severly several, in hopes that quivering will stop, and I am blinking fiercely in this valiant attempt. At last.
Buwahahahahahahahahah!
Jolly amusing blokes, those Pakis.
He is worried. Bit late in the game.
His bad names are already cast in gilded concrete.
Even more amusing: " Mr Shahzad has admitted trying to detonate the bomb having learnt how to make it in Pakistan."
Apparently detonating he did not learn only, subject proved too complicated.
We are suggesting he call help-center very fast. Where overeducated Tamils can vocally make much light of him and waggle heads in cheerful condemnation. The stupid owl.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
American Red Cross co-sponsors hate speech
A friend with a remarkably pink blog kindly alerts me to an utterly odious situation.
QUOTE:
The Stanford Department of Drama and the Stanford Theatre Activist Mobilization Project (STAMP) are proud to announce a staged reading - the San Francisco Bay Area premiere - of the thought-provoking play, My Name is Rachel Corrie.The performances feature an impressive line-up of post-show discussion speakers including Rabbi Michael Lerner, Professor Joel Beinin, and Professor Tom Sheehan.
This event is Free & Open to the public. Please email stanfordrachelcorrie@gmail.com to reserve tickets.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is Co-Sponsored by: American Red Cross, Amnesty International, Coalition for Justice in the Middle East, Emma Goldman Society for Queer Liberation, Jewish Voice for Peace, Muslim Student Awareness Network, Peninsula Peace and Justice Center, Physicians for Human Rights, Stanford Says No to War, Stanford University Students for UNICEF, and Students Confronting Apartheid by Israel.
END QUOTE.
The American Red Cross? Aren't they supposed to be 'apolitical'? Surely their sponsorship is a horrible mistake? Perhaps an agent from the other side infests a local branch of an otherwise sometimes commendable organization? And that suspicion is not entirely unfounded - the Red Cross was notorious for several decades for refusing linkage with Magen David Adom, on the spurious grounds that the Seal of Solomon, symbol of Magen David Adom (literal translation: Red Shield of David) was a religious symbol, quite unlike the cross or the crescent.
Often otherwise excellent groupss will find themselves subverted by those who would make of them mere front-organizations.
Pro-Palestinism is as much a religion as any other, and has quite as many strictures which to the skeptic seem irrational. The Red Cross may have fanatics among its ranks.I shall henceforth not contribute even one paise to their cause.
For shame, bloodsuckers, for shame.
QUOTE:
The Stanford Department of Drama and the Stanford Theatre Activist Mobilization Project (STAMP) are proud to announce a staged reading - the San Francisco Bay Area premiere - of the thought-provoking play, My Name is Rachel Corrie.The performances feature an impressive line-up of post-show discussion speakers including Rabbi Michael Lerner, Professor Joel Beinin, and Professor Tom Sheehan.
This event is Free & Open to the public. Please email stanfordrachelcorrie@gmail.com to reserve tickets.
My Name is Rachel Corrie is Co-Sponsored by: American Red Cross, Amnesty International, Coalition for Justice in the Middle East, Emma Goldman Society for Queer Liberation, Jewish Voice for Peace, Muslim Student Awareness Network, Peninsula Peace and Justice Center, Physicians for Human Rights, Stanford Says No to War, Stanford University Students for UNICEF, and Students Confronting Apartheid by Israel.
END QUOTE.
The American Red Cross? Aren't they supposed to be 'apolitical'? Surely their sponsorship is a horrible mistake? Perhaps an agent from the other side infests a local branch of an otherwise sometimes commendable organization? And that suspicion is not entirely unfounded - the Red Cross was notorious for several decades for refusing linkage with Magen David Adom, on the spurious grounds that the Seal of Solomon, symbol of Magen David Adom (literal translation: Red Shield of David) was a religious symbol, quite unlike the cross or the crescent.
Often otherwise excellent groupss will find themselves subverted by those who would make of them mere front-organizations.
Pro-Palestinism is as much a religion as any other, and has quite as many strictures which to the skeptic seem irrational. The Red Cross may have fanatics among its ranks.I shall henceforth not contribute even one paise to their cause.
For shame, bloodsuckers, for shame.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Roman Polanski is my hero!
For over thrity years Roman Polanski mister convinced the French that forcible sex with a drunken drugged thirteen year old girl was PERFECTLY NORMAL!
Amazing. Dumb ass Frenchies swallowed the guff. And made themselves look immortally stupid in process. As if anywhere outside of degenerate Islamic hinterlands such is considered healthy and logical.
For years, French persons were insisting 'no, Roman Polanksi is an important artist and creative genius, assuredly if he wuffed a thirteen year old it was tres bien'.
He forced himself on a child - for French, apparently nothing extraordinaire. Child rape common as daylight in France. In between smearing cheese, splashing pefrume, and smoking foul gitanes.
Pocque pocque pocque la belle Americaine stupide, c'est normale mon vieux!
Sorry, you goat-humping frogs, not even if she spread legs for entire French parliament saying "come bang me big boys" would it be passable. Thirteen years old! Merde!
What you were thinking!
But you were so pleased that he sought France to hide out, having in nowadays era so very few men of talent at all in France that one more no matter how ethically and morally crippled was welcome addition. A vrai intellectuel! And she only une Yanquie! Ne pas de probleme!
And we all know what you lot think about sex anyways, do we not?
Anything better than the English style. Turn portrait of old lady to wall and do it rigorously with someone younger. Plus, you despise the Americans.
Now it bites. You look pretty silly protecting international pervert. Thirty years, what? Are you proud of that? Artisitic pretentions, oui, yet nothing more than a common rogue.
Makes one wonder how many French thirteen year olds he got to while there. And how many of those found him in any case far cleaner than French rapists.
Probably bit of a relief not having poxy frog whiffing in the old featherbed.
Life a living hell in France, but not all stinko at all times, merci bonne dieu.
Go one, have some more wine, silly French chappies. It will help you forget that you gladly hosted a man who cannot be trusted with your daughters.
Any of them, maybe even all of them.
For making fools out of you he deserves a medal.
After being killed for being a horrid degenerate first, of course.
Alors enfants de la patrihihiya, le jour de gloire est arrivee! Pom pom, pom pom, pohom pom pom, pompompom pom, da da daa da daha daaaaaa!
Amazing. Dumb ass Frenchies swallowed the guff. And made themselves look immortally stupid in process. As if anywhere outside of degenerate Islamic hinterlands such is considered healthy and logical.
For years, French persons were insisting 'no, Roman Polanksi is an important artist and creative genius, assuredly if he wuffed a thirteen year old it was tres bien'.
He forced himself on a child - for French, apparently nothing extraordinaire. Child rape common as daylight in France. In between smearing cheese, splashing pefrume, and smoking foul gitanes.
Pocque pocque pocque la belle Americaine stupide, c'est normale mon vieux!
Sorry, you goat-humping frogs, not even if she spread legs for entire French parliament saying "come bang me big boys" would it be passable. Thirteen years old! Merde!
What you were thinking!
But you were so pleased that he sought France to hide out, having in nowadays era so very few men of talent at all in France that one more no matter how ethically and morally crippled was welcome addition. A vrai intellectuel! And she only une Yanquie! Ne pas de probleme!
And we all know what you lot think about sex anyways, do we not?
Anything better than the English style. Turn portrait of old lady to wall and do it rigorously with someone younger. Plus, you despise the Americans.
Now it bites. You look pretty silly protecting international pervert. Thirty years, what? Are you proud of that? Artisitic pretentions, oui, yet nothing more than a common rogue.
Makes one wonder how many French thirteen year olds he got to while there. And how many of those found him in any case far cleaner than French rapists.
Probably bit of a relief not having poxy frog whiffing in the old featherbed.
Life a living hell in France, but not all stinko at all times, merci bonne dieu.
Go one, have some more wine, silly French chappies. It will help you forget that you gladly hosted a man who cannot be trusted with your daughters.
Any of them, maybe even all of them.
For making fools out of you he deserves a medal.
After being killed for being a horrid degenerate first, of course.
Alors enfants de la patrihihiya, le jour de gloire est arrivee! Pom pom, pom pom, pohom pom pom, pompompom pom, da da daa da daha daaaaaa!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Get your pnaties outta my face!
The nerve of that child! First she waves her panties in my face, then she refuses my kind responsive attentions! I am all of the flutter accordingly! And quite quite infuriated!
Here I had striven to argua her into accepting my reasoned contention, yet she denies! Denies!
I speak, of course naturally, of the utterly evil and possibly luscious and tempting miss Snooky Wong, writer of Death By Noodles, which I never read, and columnist for the Pro-Israel Bay Bloggers, a respectable outfit of which I too am contributing.
AND I SAY: BITCH!
Your excesses are greater than a first cup of coffee!
How you dare use my very own highly literate postings to argue and aver that I am obsessed with Richard Becker's penis?! How you dare, I say!
Completely - not - interested - in - the slightest - small - penis of - Richard buggery Becker!
A literary fancy, pure and simple!
The fact that his manhood is minute and smoothly undeveloped is a matter of record. I am merely stating the well-known. I have no personal state in his teenie weenie little winkipoo. Quite not! No one does! Not even the zesty venomtress Lily Haskell! We hear she swings elsewheres in some other case. Though she too is heartfelt in her lust for Arabs and their brutish cause.
Richard Becker's tiny little dinglewangle is of no importance to the cause. Merely typical of many anti-Semitic ponces and faulty individuals. That he matches in queen size miss Haskell, well, too bad and not enough. Both are in same regard.
And I should ask, has any one seen them in the same place at the same time?
So no, my dear miss Wong, delicious Snooky B., I have no investment in Richard Becker's penis. It is far too small and inconsequent. No appeal utterly. Probably smells bad. Evil thumbtack.
You, however, seem to have it on your mind.
Here I had striven to argua her into accepting my reasoned contention, yet she denies! Denies!
I speak, of course naturally, of the utterly evil and possibly luscious and tempting miss Snooky Wong, writer of Death By Noodles, which I never read, and columnist for the Pro-Israel Bay Bloggers, a respectable outfit of which I too am contributing.
AND I SAY: BITCH!
Your excesses are greater than a first cup of coffee!
How you dare use my very own highly literate postings to argue and aver that I am obsessed with Richard Becker's penis?! How you dare, I say!
Completely - not - interested - in - the slightest - small - penis of - Richard buggery Becker!
A literary fancy, pure and simple!
The fact that his manhood is minute and smoothly undeveloped is a matter of record. I am merely stating the well-known. I have no personal state in his teenie weenie little winkipoo. Quite not! No one does! Not even the zesty venomtress Lily Haskell! We hear she swings elsewheres in some other case. Though she too is heartfelt in her lust for Arabs and their brutish cause.
Richard Becker's tiny little dinglewangle is of no importance to the cause. Merely typical of many anti-Semitic ponces and faulty individuals. That he matches in queen size miss Haskell, well, too bad and not enough. Both are in same regard.
And I should ask, has any one seen them in the same place at the same time?
So no, my dear miss Wong, delicious Snooky B., I have no investment in Richard Becker's penis. It is far too small and inconsequent. No appeal utterly. Probably smells bad. Evil thumbtack.
You, however, seem to have it on your mind.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Death by Noodles is a horrid mistress!
Heavens, little miss Wong! You again overlook my contributions to PIBB and focus on the unimportant; your own. Of which there are about three minor scribblings, I grant you. But mine you do not mention! At all!! How could you!!!
Hah!
Nor did you react, in any way at all, to my recipe for Parsee Prawn Curry!
Soon I shall have to offer it instead to Richard Becker, if he will but let me photograph his tiny penis, and take a wax impression, so that I may prove to you, in several blown up color photographs, and a plaster model, that I speak the truth, I spoke the truth.
It is small. It is but that you would not believe me when I asserted that little fact that you now ignore me, I doubt it not!
Despite the several scriptural kindnesses I have shown you. But nay! And no!
You wished proof of my valid claim that Richard Becker is blessed with a matchbox-sized lora, or even smaller, as befits a notorious communist from a comfortable armchair, who is desiring to entirely without danger to himself or evidences leading back to him, or the beneficiaries of his mini-me, instigate, stir-up, and outside-agitate for violent revolution and the bloody extinguishment of Jews and other fine peoples. As is utterly the balanced and considered opinion of myself, a discriminating and perspicacious lawyer.
You insisted upon it!
RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS (or had a tiny penis, when last we could ascertain, at a moments before this writing).
DO NOT DARE DISPUTE! IT IS SMALL. MINUTE!
And it is rather cute. As ugly little dingusses go.
It eats cheese.
I SHALL NOW REPEAT: RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS! RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS!!! ALL OF INTERNATIONAL ANSWER HAS TINY PENISES!!!!!!!
It is smaller than a shrimp. And concerning which, if you intend on cooking that shrimp curry of which the receipt I wrote, do NOT overcook the shrimp. It will turn tough and tasteless if you do. As well as limp and greasy, and altogether nasty and communistic. Plus pink and somewhat wrinkled, and shrivelly entirely.
Hah!
Nor did you react, in any way at all, to my recipe for Parsee Prawn Curry!
Soon I shall have to offer it instead to Richard Becker, if he will but let me photograph his tiny penis, and take a wax impression, so that I may prove to you, in several blown up color photographs, and a plaster model, that I speak the truth, I spoke the truth.
It is small. It is but that you would not believe me when I asserted that little fact that you now ignore me, I doubt it not!
Despite the several scriptural kindnesses I have shown you. But nay! And no!
You wished proof of my valid claim that Richard Becker is blessed with a matchbox-sized lora, or even smaller, as befits a notorious communist from a comfortable armchair, who is desiring to entirely without danger to himself or evidences leading back to him, or the beneficiaries of his mini-me, instigate, stir-up, and outside-agitate for violent revolution and the bloody extinguishment of Jews and other fine peoples. As is utterly the balanced and considered opinion of myself, a discriminating and perspicacious lawyer.
You insisted upon it!
RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS (or had a tiny penis, when last we could ascertain, at a moments before this writing).
DO NOT DARE DISPUTE! IT IS SMALL. MINUTE!
And it is rather cute. As ugly little dingusses go.
It eats cheese.
I SHALL NOW REPEAT: RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS! RICHARD BECKER HAS A TINY PENIS!!! ALL OF INTERNATIONAL ANSWER HAS TINY PENISES!!!!!!!
It is smaller than a shrimp. And concerning which, if you intend on cooking that shrimp curry of which the receipt I wrote, do NOT overcook the shrimp. It will turn tough and tasteless if you do. As well as limp and greasy, and altogether nasty and communistic. Plus pink and somewhat wrinkled, and shrivelly entirely.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Pakistanis full of themselves
Recently the Pakistanis demanded that the British stop pressuring them so much regarding terrorists, and averred that due to their efforts, much terror had been averted.
As per articles in various place, including The Guardian, to which horrid journal I shall not link!
Pakis claim that they have pursued suspects with great enthusiasm.
Of course they have!
Pursued training them, and enabling them, that is!
No one in their righteous mind would trust nor believe that the Pakistanis had anything other to do with the war on terror than keeping it ongoing by their funding and support of extremists, murderers, and drugdealers involved with ISI and the Taleban. Anything else is absurd.
As per articles in various place, including The Guardian, to which horrid journal I shall not link!
Pakis claim that they have pursued suspects with great enthusiasm.
Of course they have!
Pursued training them, and enabling them, that is!
No one in their righteous mind would trust nor believe that the Pakistanis had anything other to do with the war on terror than keeping it ongoing by their funding and support of extremists, murderers, and drugdealers involved with ISI and the Taleban. Anything else is absurd.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Are Parsees farklempt?
This calendar ? The Shahanshahi calendar is wrong by thirty days at all times from the kadimi, and neither hew to the rigid flexibility of the fasili sal. Which, of course, is both logical and correct. But and therefore utterly wrong.
12 x 30, plus five days.
Plus one, if you are a hereticus.
The kadimi calendar has the support of three atash beherams plus the simple peasantry of Yazd, by reason of the completely wrong pronunciations instituted (for absolutely all the right reasons) by the much-respected mister Firoz Kaws Dastar two centuries ago. The other five atash beherams contrariwise follow the correct pronunciation and rigidly the wrong calendar.
Both standard behdini and kushnumi are equally as divided. And on these bases we discriminate against our own. A house divided, as they say, toppels in plural directions.
In many ways the case of that French woman was much more simple. Even though it made of an egalitarian religion a caste and ethnic entity, and opened the door to the exclusion of those with a non-Parsee parent.
Admit any John Doe Irani, but shriek angrily if an outsider enters. Wail, wail, wail.
It is enough to make one disbelief.
12 x 30, plus five days.
Plus one, if you are a hereticus.
The kadimi calendar has the support of three atash beherams plus the simple peasantry of Yazd, by reason of the completely wrong pronunciations instituted (for absolutely all the right reasons) by the much-respected mister Firoz Kaws Dastar two centuries ago. The other five atash beherams contrariwise follow the correct pronunciation and rigidly the wrong calendar.
Both standard behdini and kushnumi are equally as divided. And on these bases we discriminate against our own. A house divided, as they say, toppels in plural directions.
In many ways the case of that French woman was much more simple. Even though it made of an egalitarian religion a caste and ethnic entity, and opened the door to the exclusion of those with a non-Parsee parent.
Admit any John Doe Irani, but shriek angrily if an outsider enters. Wail, wail, wail.
It is enough to make one disbelief.
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