Desert Girl - Addressing the Nation

Did you catch the Emir’s address last night? I watch him way more than I watch Bush. I refuse to sit through Bush’s pompous, condescending Mickey-mouse ramblings anyhoo, but that is a whole ‘nother post.

Anyhoo, my Desert Girl comments on the Emir’s address:

• Has KTV never heard of a teleprompter? Why is the HEAD OF STATE reading off endless sheets of paper and not making eye contact with his viewers? What is it - 1950?

• This may be a follow on to my first point and yet, Dear His Highness Mr. Emir, please smile – especially when you are discussing the optimistic outlook for Kuwait’s future. You are a totally handsome guy and yet, even moreso when you smile. We love ya.
  
• The backdrop: Ok, not to knock whoever’s decorating abilities (it was obviously some man with poor taste), but come on – I’ve seen better stage sets on Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. What’s with that chair? The white flower centerpiece made it look too blah. What were those teak pole things?? White background = bad idea. Even drivers license photos aren’t taken on white backgrounds anymore. Makes the focal point look washed out.
  
• WHY doesn’t Kuwait hire a top-knotch PR firm to handle this kind of thing? If Kuwait could afford to hire a PR firm (Hill & Knowlton) to manipulate American opinion to defend Kuwait in 1990 during the invasion, then why can’t they try to manipulate Kuwaitis towards the Emir’s initiatives of becoming better citizens; obeying laws, ending corruption (implied) and moving Kuwait into the future? A little PR goes a long way.

And now… for something completely different.

A little humor for you – “Chuckle O’ The Day”. My friend, Bobarino, just sent it to me.

I attended a party this past weekend. After checking out all the well-dressed guests at the party, I spotted an attractive woman(standing alone) across the room.When I approached and asked her name. She coyly replied... "Carmen."Trying to maintain some sort of conversation with her, I responded with "That's a beautiful name, Is it a family name?"

"No," she replied. "I gave it to myself, because it reflects the things I like most in the world - cars and men." Then she asked, "What's your name?"

"Golftits," I replied.

Again, for something completely different.

There is a man who wants to marry me. ooooootay.... so what's the catch, Desert Girl? Well, let me tell you... he is Kuwait in his late 40's, wealthy, solvent (no problem so far). He is a grandfather [uh.... I don't know if I can deal with a 25 year old calling me "mommy" (in or out of bed) or a little kid calling me GOD FORBID "grandmommy"]. I shiver. And yet... get ready for it... here is the kicker... he has a stomach that looks like he's about to give birth to a 10 pound baby. I just can't "get over it" (so to speak). I'm a great friend, but I really draw the line. Logistically, I just have a hard time even contemplating that one. (Purgy - stop laughing and shaking your head. I'll tell you where I met this one later.) Purgy loves my life dilemas.

The Man (oh love of my life, center of my existence - yuh, whatever): It is a shame that you can't get your life together. Not that you're perfect, baby (by far), but I wouldn't have had these dilemas if you hadn't gone to Phuket... if you hadn't kept disapppearing... OH NEVER MIND. You get it. Where the HELL are my pink roses????

Maybe I can become a special advisor to High Highness the Emir and then I can meet a drop-dead-gorgeous, mentally stable, son-of-a-sheikh and live happily ever after? It could happen. Ride off into the sunset on a white horse. Maybe in a parallel universe, but it could happen.