Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Tuesdays - Ugly Fun!

I go to a tailor in Jabriya and even when it is Africa-hot, he has no AC or fan on in the fitting room. Let me just tell you, that when you are crammed into a little closet the size of a coffin, trying on stuff you want to have darted (in or out), and sweating profusely -- nothing will ever look good. I even realized how much I hate the back of my head when I saw it in the mirror there. Who would have thought it would turn out to be one of my least-favorite features? Until the tailors, I was pretty sure that the back of my head looked like one of those girls' on a Clairol commercial, but noooooo.

Another pet peeve is going to the tailor and having Kuwaiti women arrive after me and the tailor says (with excruciating pain written all over his face and very quietly as to not set off a stampede), "Excuuuse me," and dash to help THEM. Chelloooooo. I was there FIRST and I'm 100 times more likely not to bargain/quibble over a price. I turn mean-nasty-American on them in 2.5 nanoseconds. 'Yo! Babu! I was here FIRST, mothafuckah!' (I don't actually say that, but the voices inside my head are screaming it.) I relent because he does such a good job, really (when he's not pissing me off). He is probably mean to me because he can hear the racist voices inside my head calling him 'Babu'.

Yesterday, I watched from my apartment balcony as a rather well-dressed man pulled up in his car and assisted a lady from my building into his car (looks like they were on their way to the airport). Dude opens the trunk, pulls out a tire and literally chucks it into the middle of our street! What tha phuck??? I was on my way out anyhow, so I went downstairs (full of piss and vinegar) and said, "Excuse me, would you mind picking up that tire you just threw in the middle of the street? We don't live in a junkyard." He said, "What tire?" 'The one you just threw right there.' "Oh." So I made him take it to the dumpster not 20 feet away. People are so stupid.

Since Khara fee is making our street look like an absolute dumpster anyways, everybody thinks that it is ok to dump their junk wherever they feel like it. I'm surprised people haven't started to pee out there. (Maybe they have?) It is disgusting. Since the construction oopa-loompas have come around, the trash men don't think they have to collect either. Yes, it is stinky.

What is the deal with changing all of the frickin curbs in Kuwait anyways? Didn't we already have a parking problem? Now they have created parking problems all over Salmiya (coming soon to a neighborhood near you!). Let's discuss anti-corruption for a moment here. Who AWARDED the new curb tender? Why was there ever a tender out there to provide new curbs? Who the phuck needs the new curbs? What was wrong with the old curbs? All of a sudden, there are 12" curbs all over Salmiya and nobody can park. I can't get my sports car up there in front of my own building. Why doesn't someone issue a tender for installing grass or trees or flowers and maintaining them? What is UP with the curbs????

We had to take a friend to the airport last night. Tuesday nights are ugly-fun nights at the Kuwait International Airport. You want an ugly partner – be sure to look for him/her there! Slapperella made the mistake of somehow parking in a staff parking space and it took her close to an hour to get help and get out. Help came in the form of a cute Kuwaiti security guard who, as she reported it, "Wasn't havin' it." Too bad. The Slapperella charm is usually able to penetrate any armor (so to speak).

I think that is the end of most of my bitching for today. I have more, but they concern work and I don't have the energy to get into that tirade.

On a more pleasant note (shut tha fuuu up - there is too one!)... I had the first dream about my father since he passed away. He was standing next to a river and a small white house (kind of like in that movie, "Big Fish") with a lot of people around him. He looked serene and was staring out over the water. He didn't say anything to me, but I woke up feeling better. I think the house was supposed to belong to my cousin, Kim's father (I have never really gotten the familial connection there) in Norfolk.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

WTF Kuwait?

Last night, June 23, 2006 at approximately 8:00 pm, H. Al-Shammari's 9 year old daughter walked to the co-op close to their home in Mubarak Al-Kabeer (Block 3). A group of boys was outside the co-op and one of them threw a bottle at the girl, hitting her on the head. She was taken to the hospital, her head shaved, and she was given stitches. Mr. Shammari doesn't want to report the incident to the police because he knows they will do nothing.

Last Saturday 17th June I was driving past Salwa coop on the opposite side of the road at about 6:15pm. A group of at least six 10 to 12 year old Kuwaiti boys in dishdashas on my side of the street were hanging around under a large tree. As I passed by a stone hit my car. I immediately turned around the traffic circle there and went into the police station. An officer on duty said there was nothing he could do, that school was out and this group were in trouble morning and afternoon.

This is the second incident that has happened to me this year in Salwa. I was at the coop several months ago when a group of youths were throwing stones outside the coop door. I was pushing a trolley towards my vehicle when one of them threw a 7 up bottle at me. It didnt hit me. It smashed on the ground in front of me, but again as I was right next to the police station I walked in. I saw the boys head towards the clinic through a back alley so I asked the police officer to walk round and apprehend them from the front of the clinic. Two of the boys were sitting in the alley and were asked by the officer to come back to the station. They denied it was either of them that threw the bottle, but the officer called in the father of one boy who lived in a nearby street. The father said they are only young and "never mind"!

I agreed they might be young, but if they get away with throwing bottles today who knows what they might do when they are older.

As they were brushing me off, I called my Kuwaiti son who is over 6ft tall. When they saw him pull up in front of the station in his jeep, the officer started to joke with the father and asked if he was my "friend". First my son told off the boys, then he spoke to the father, and then the police officer! Not very satisfactory.

From: British Embassy
Dear Wardens

Jamie Bowden, the Deputy Head of Mission, called on Brig Yousef Al-Seoudi, Assistant Under Secretary for Public Security Affairs, to discuss the Embassy's worries about threats of violence and stone throwing by young Kuwaiti men against British citizens in desert areas of Mangaf, Fahaheel and Egaila. Jamie handed over a formal note on the subject.

Jamie talked through in detail the most serious incident of which we are aware, when a British citizen was stoned and had knives pulled on him. He said that we were also aware of other incidents. He asked that the Ministry increase the police presence in the area and consider a wider plan to tackle the problem.

Brig Yousef said that the police were aware of the problem posed by young men hanging around in these desert areas. Since early June they had instituted patrols in these areas. But it would not be possible to completely end the risk of incidents like these. Regrettably, he had to advise that people should not go to these areas after dark, and as far as possible when they went to them during the day they should go in at least pairs.

Brig Yousef also said that it was essential that any incidents were reported immediately to the police. Otherwise it was difficult for them to take further action to deal with the problem. Jamie said that we had already passed this advice out through the wardens' network.

Jamie pointed out that the emergency number for the police, 777, was not always answered immediately. The Ministry of Information have given us the following direct lines to police stations in Mangaf, Mahboula, Fahaheel and Egaila:

Mangaf/Abu Halifa Police Station: 371 4753
Mahboula/Fintas Police Station: 390 3744
Fahaheel Police Station: 391 0014
Egaila/Regga Police Station: 394 0700

Please do report immediately and in detail any incidents to the police and to your warden.

Desert Girl comment: You know when this will get some attention? When one of these boys is shot by someone, vigilante-style. .... and I will laugh.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

To the Beat of Somebody's Drum (I guess)

So today was my first visit to Villa Mucha. I guess you can say that I am no longer a Villa Moda virgin. Yes yes. It's true. I have dipped my toes into the lake of the languid. I said I would never ever go there on principle: I don't believe in all the designer hoopla and the waste/greed/gluttony associated with it. However, I relented and went in today because it was my friend's, friend's birthday and I like her. We went to the cafĂ© and let me just tell you – their food and their cheesecake ROCKS baybeeee (light and airy with real graham cracker crust – most delicious). The atmosphere is also really nice – very relaxing and tranquil (except for the clad-in-black, weird-eyeglass-wearing Eurodudes who were sitting at the next table. That's ok. I can deal with them and their fake tans.) I'm definitely going there again. Paying big bucks for food is okay in my world because food is food regardless of how much you pay for it and I don't eat it to try to outdo anyone (and I would also give it to poor people).

I have also wanted to visit Villa Mucha based on Slapperella's slippers (shoes). They are, indeed, magical. I don't believe that she has taken them off since she purchased them from Dolce and Gabana (sp? – WTF) discounted at VM. I don't believe she has bathed since the put them on either. They would be, as I see it, quite appropriate even for circus sex. They are extraordinary magical bejeweled slippers and I love them, so I have been trying to get her to go there with me to seek out equally magical slippers for myself. I just know that my pumpkin would turn into a carriage and that mice would be made into white horses and that Prince Charming would.....YEAH BAYBEEEEE.... I digress.

Anyhooooo (Purgy)…. I went to Villa Mucha and walked through the shops after having lunch. I was immediately met by the Pucker Factor (you know where you can't wedge a needle in your behind even with use of a sledgehammer). I feel like all eyes know that I shop (wherever the phuck I feel like it) someplace "lower". I gotta tell you though, if those chicks have money, they sure dress funny. One girl had on a skin tight pair of pants, a strange tunic type thing wrapped around her and enough make-up to look like a Saturday afternoon at an Earl Scheibb garage(that made Bobarino giggle). Other "ladies" were wearing things that could have been on the sci-fi channel. Very odd. I kept looking for Spock. There were also lots of androgynous (also sci-fi) piccolo players (you know – light in the loafers, knob-gobblins – whatever you wanna say). No, I'm not politically incorrect because I DO TOO say such things to gay friends. It's ok. I make fun of everyone.

Bobarino was running around merrily picking things up and doing a little Vanna White for us all. I felt like the mommy of a bad 3 year old. If I had told him that, he probably would have had a sexual fantasy about it because he's a pig, so I didn't.

We looked at the Aston Martins on display and our Kuwaiti birthday-girl friend said, "What do I have to do to get one of those? Strip?" I answered, "No. You have to find yourself a lesbian sheikha because the sheikhs are too cheap." Which, in all honesty, is how I feel – speaking from first-hand (ha ha) experience. I'm still driving a GMC. Hey – did you notice that Aston Martin makes a DB8 (that is real close to "deviate" – get it? Do you think he was phuckin with the rich?).

I didn't have the courage to go to the upper floors because the pucker factor was limiting my mobility. I thought I would try it again another day when I looked cuter and when I could bring Slapperella with me for morale support. Babarino wasn't helping things running around caressing LV bags and the like.


The Man is pissing me off (everybody pisses me off, but he is really on my last last last nerve), so I'm "shopping" (which is quite different from "hunting" because "shopping" is innocent – really. It is.). Anyhow, so far, I have met a married guy with 8 children who fell in love with me at first sight (I could tell because he had puppy eyes and his palms were all sweaty). He's really very nice (and successful and gorgeous and has extremely large feet), but I don't see it materializing. Then, there was a young'un who invited me to coffee and brought his COUSIN (who was HOT) and then when we were supposed to go out on "our second date" to dinner, half an hour before we were to meet, he sends me an SMS (doesn't even bother to call) asking, "Can we make it another night? I have to go meet some VIPs." What the phuck am I??? Chopped liver? 'Oh, can I have your cousins number?' Then, there was a very polite (too polite if you ask me) guy from the Ministry of Finance – single, but too young. Then there was a married-and-looking-for-Mrs.-2nd-wife guy from the Kuwait Air (and you can say "air" any way you want to – making it more funny) Force.

It is hot and the villagers are restless! I think I hear drums…. Gotta go.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

118 Degrees, Sweet Potatoes and Circus Sex

I would love to have something highly intelligent and interesting to say (do you ever, Desert Girl?), but alas it is summer in Kuwait and I don't.

Big news is that Sultan Center at Souq Sharq has BIG American sweet potatoes.

And I hurt my leg during circus sex (yes, it was worth it).

It is a balmy 118 degrees (don't ask me centigrade because I'm 'merican and I refuse to learn metric because it is WRONG and would fly in the face of everything patriotic). Anyhoo, mere sweater weather here until July or August. I actually found myself shivering last night at Palm Palace; ok it was because they had the AC down to sub-zero temperatures (again – imperial system) because everybody, their younger brothers, and their uncles were out watching the stupid World Cup and smoking the last legal drug in Kuwait, sheesha. I have had to pretend that I like soccer because 1) The Man loves it and it is the only way I can ever see him (how pathetic is THAT?) and B) when The Man isn't around and I'm out with my Bluetooth-crazed-fanatic girlfriends, we still have to go places where there are mens and they are all sitting in front of the World Cup. So, we go and ooooh and aaaaah and fain interest when someone scores a goal.

Back in high school, I used to know what the hell "off sides" means, but since that really mean Brazilian diplomat kid kicked me in the shin ON PURPOSE in 10th grade, I stopped playing soccer and lost all interest. The Brazilian guy was a real bastard and 20/20 (American news TV show incase you don't know) had a segment on him for shooting someone in DC at a bar several years later which led the US Government to look into diplomatic immunity laws. He also used to deal cocaine out of the back of his dad's limo on the high school grounds. America – you gotta love democracy.

Bluetooth! My friend, Slapperella, has so many men from Bluetooth that she can't remember who is who when they call, so she has resorted to telling them all the same thing, at the same period in time. She's been a "good girl" so far, but she may slip sometime into a life of debauchery. She's like a little pixie flying here and there spreading merriment through Bluetooth transmission and pictures of her FMPs (do we all know what that means, children, or must I spell it out?)

Where do you find the best Bluetooth places in Kuwait are? Our plan has been to park outside of an election tent one night…

And while we are on the subject of the erections…. Uh… I mean elections…. I was chatting with Kuwaiti Chopper Dude and he reminded me of how proud I am of the Kuwaitis who actually want to DO something to end the corruption in the country. This is the first year I have seen people actually organizing against it – and many of them are younger people who want to initiate the change. I think it will take years, but as long as people are angry/passionate about it, eventually things will change. I haven't heard how people feel about the women who are running. Any different perspective is good: The Kuwaiti government has been unbalanced because you need a different gender's perspective. Women and men think differently. I think that when there are more women in the government, laws will change affecting social issues as well.

I've been going out a lot with Slapperella and The Romanian. They both get along really well for some reason – probably because we have the same interests and a lot of things in common (food and sexy handsome men). I would have thought it was a strange combination (Scottish, Romanian, American), but we have a great friendship. (It's all fine and good until someone loses an eye.)

My sister sent me a note saying that my dad's inheritance money should be coming through this week. I haven't been able to deal with this well. I have had mixed feelings about it and I don't like the whole idea of getting money because someone I love has died. It feels wrong. I am terrible with money anyways. That's not to say that I won't find something to do with it – and I know my dad would have wanted me to – but it just feels bad. Let's just say that if I were Anna Nicole Smith, I would have given up that court case and gone back to the trailer park a long time ago. She'd probably have met a nice tattooed guy by now if she had – instead of guys who want her for her (boobs) money.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Yeah Baybee - I'm a Superstah!

So I am finding that people (real people not just virtual ones) read the trash I write. Isn't that amazing? Wow. I feel so warm and fuzzy and just knowing that they are out there makes me feel special (and not in a short bus way either).

Some of my friends are starting to correlate my name to my blog too which is very scary because now I have to be way more careful.


  • The blog is restricted to individuals of Legal Age who are residents of, or current physical visitors to, Jurisdictions where use of the blog and all bad language, personal interpretations, and references to body parts and/or pornography therein is not prohibited by law
  • Minors are strictly forbidden to play. All Games played by Minors are void.
  • Readers may enter the blog and post comments free of charge. No purchase is necessary and no winnings will be paid of any kind.
  • Blog Management reserves the right to change, modify or delete blog, blog rules, and blog Policies and Terms at any time without prior notice.
  • Personal identity and details of all bloggers and personal friends/confidents will remain confidential. Blog Management will not voluntarily report blogging information on behalf of any blogger, unless required to do so by appropriate government authority by threat of imprisonment, torture or death (whichever comes first).
  • Blog Management apologizes to anyone who finds offense in personal attacks and/or smear campaigns depicted within the blog.

Several things have made my week incredibly wonderful. Hearing my friend (let me just call her) "Flygirl" call me this morning and tell me that she had had coffee with someone who recognized my name and said that I was (this is soooooo phucking cool), "a superstar" really topped my list. I'm walking around with my chest out (which is actually a dangerous thing since "the girls" are so large and destructive).

This is Wednesday, so I have to tell you about the beginning part of the week too. I had a meeting with a company that recently held what was supposed to be a French fry (or "freedom fry" for our Republican friends) taste test. Turned out to be a French fry focus group … anyhoo….. being the person I am, I sent them some unique feedback on the event. The reps called and said that they wanted to meet with me (oh crap – look what I did, now they're mad), so I wasn't really looking forward to the meeting. I forgot all about it over the weekend (because I'm blonde and we need to be re-trained at the beginning of every week). Anyways, they walked in on Saturday morning – early – carrying a HUGE bouquet of flowers and with a wrapped box of chocolates. Let me just say that if we were in prison, I'd be their bitch for life. I will do ANYTHING (business-related or of a semi-personal nature) for these guys. Amazing. I keep advising people that they need to send flowers for PR. Even guys love getting flowers. I know – I've done it. They love you forever.

Speaking of loooooooooooove - I've been having Man trouble. I love him. Want to marry him. Why is it necessary to have so much DRAAAAAAAAAMA? Jeez. I'm a simple girl with simple needs; which, believe it or not have nothing to do with money, fame and all that designer bullshit that goes with it. I am happy to receive some attention, some flowers, and some kenafa once in a while. Why can't my amazingly gorgeous (both inside and out) Man understand that? Why must Kuwait be so full of drama? Can't we all just get along (Rodney King for those of you who didn't catch the reference)? The Man disappeared for 2 weeks due to some family crap and only recently returned and I can't really figure him out. So this week he came back and I guess that was a good thing. Bobarino already bought duct tape, hefty garbage bags, and a chain saw and we had picked out the plot for the hole in the desert…. But it really wasn't necessary after all. (Just kidding big bad internet police.) I just want to know when I turned into one of those whiny girls who talks about her boyfriend all the time? I MAKE FUN of those girls! Waaaa waaaaa waaaaaaa…. But I loooooove him (has to be said with a Southern accent).