Holy Spamathon. Much Wow.

spam

Am I the only one? While I have been busy fixing up my novel ( after going nuts with pitchmad..I got requests!) my blog has been entered in some sort of Spamathon. The comment thingy is full of crazy spam, always keep your ‘pending approval’ thing on! So here is some entertaining stuff I am about to ‘mark as spam’ :

I’m gone to say to my little brother, that he should also visit this web
site on regular basis to take updated from latest
news update.

Latest news update: I don’t give any news updates.

Marvelous, what a website it is! This weblog presents helpful data to us, keep it
up.

Thank you. I will keep it up.

Excellent goods from you, man. I’ve understand your stuff previous to and you’re just extremely wonderful.I actually like what you’ve acquired here, really like what you’re stating and the way in which you say it. You make it entertaining and you still take care of to keep it sensible. I can’t wait to read much more from you. This is really a terrific website.

I am extremely wonderful man and I will continue my previous stuff. I am appreciating much that you are liking what I state. I am stating that you go jump off a bridge.

I all the time emailed this website post page to
all my contacts, as if like to read it afterward my
contacts will too.

I all the time do not give a ****

It’s a pity you don’t have a donate button! I’d certainly donate to this outstanding blog!I suppose for now i’ll settle for bookmarking and adding your RSS feed to my Google account.I look forward to fresh updates and will share this site with my Facebook group. Talk soon!

A donate button? Do I really sound that needy?

Extreme Parenting or How to Fix Your Obnoxious Brat

bratty kids 3

You know that parent you find in random aisles when you go shopping? The one with a UNICEF Ambassador’s concerned expression and the tact of a woodland creature surrounded by hungry wolves?

tantrum

Their child is sprawled on the floor causing a ruckus that would shame a South American howler monkey. And they stand there being a good parent and continue to give this writhing, howling hell child “choices”.

“Honey, you can’t have both, you have to make a choice. Do you want the (sugar laden, cavity causing, hyper-activity trigger) cereal (made with loads of genetically modified stuff) or do  you want the (excessively salty) chips (full of saturated fatty acids that will be sure to make you a candidate for cardiovascular diseases in the future) ?”

Devil spawn gets up glares at the parent and knocks down everything on the bottom two shelves. Because it couldn’t reach any higher than that. Not effective parenting.

I say, yes give the child choices. In fact I would give the child three choices.

“I can either whoop your ass: 1 here, 2 at home or 3 you can shut up.”

Being a bad ass parent literally means you have to be bad ass.

bratty kids 4

My dad’s cousins were bad ass mothers. These aunts of mine, they are oh so awesome! To this day they evoke respect and can make their grown sons shake in their boots. They believed in extreme parenting. Once one of their very young sons let them know that the story about the stork bringing babies was a lie, babies came from tummies. My aunt’s reply?

“Really? Well come here and I’ll cut your tummy open, let’s see how many babies we can find.”

Needless to say, the son never questioned the authenticity of her explanations again. Their children did not throw tantrums. Sometimes being extreme is the best option.

Some Extremely Effective Options:

1. Your child needs to go pee and refuses to acknowledge this. Options:

“Honey your bladder will burst and you will have a pipe attached to a pee pee bag that you will carry around for the rest of your life. Or you can go to the bathroom and save me a trip to the hospital.”

2. Your child can’t fall asleep because it is too hot. Even with the A.C working perfectly. Options:

“Honey I can stick you in the freezer. Or you can just go to sleep in your bed. Immediately.”

3. Your child can’t fall asleep because it is too cold. Replace ‘freezer’ with ‘oven’ in above option.

4. Your child is unhappy with you because you are an unfair mother. Options:

Pack a bag with some of their clothes and drive them to an ominous looking building. “This is the place for children with moms that aren’t fair. There are no x-boxes, no ipods, no birthday parties and no snacks ever. They are served only with leftovers, they wash their own dishes and clothes, and no one tucks them in at night or tells them stories. You can stay here or you can come back with me and live with my rules.”

Teens?

5. Your teenagers don’t listen. Ever. They don’t even deserve an option, post their bare bummed baby pics on Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter. Don’t forget to tag them. Another great pic is the ‘first time on potty’ pic.

6. They forgot to take out the trash? Dump it on their bed, that should improve their memory.

7. They don’t put away their stuff? Throw it in the driveway.

8. They don’t like what you cook? Kick them out of the dining room and lock the pantry. After two days of starving everything will taste gourmet.

And every night at bedtime don’t forget to tell them how much you love them. BTW I have used #s 1, 2,3,4, and 7. Extremely effective.

bratty kids 2

 

(all pics from Google Images)

Weekly Photo Challenge: Selfie

Selfie: A selfie is a type of self-portrait photograph, typically taken with a hand-held digital camera or camera phone, while in the bathroom in front of the mirror wearing undergarments and sticking out lips in a most nauseating fashion, giving the impression of being extremely constipated, going into labor or passing a kidney stone.

Angry Woman 2014 Jan 006

 

I prefer to be at the other end of the camera.

 

 

 

Daily Prompt: Celebrity

I wasn’t planning on doing a post today, but I just couldn’t stop this poem from getting out:

Celebrity

I’m a celeb ri ty,

Don’t care what you think of me.                                        Kim

I pose in my un der wear,                                                                                 Russel

Don’t shave my arm pit hair.

Julia

I get just what I want,

hilton

Eat in any res tau rant.

Why r u always trashin’ me?

Miley

Full of hate ‘n jeal ou sy!

I’m always in the news,

I love drin kin’ booze.

Paris drunk

Look at that pic of me!

Damn I look  s ex y!

Brittany

So what it’s a mug shot?

You’re never gonna look that hot!

Justin

I’m a celeb ri ty,

Don’t you dare hate on me!

My life’s so dif fi cult,

So don’t be so cri ti cal!

luxury

I’m the center of the Universe,

Everything else’s just ludicrous!

Gaga

Disclaimer: No intention of hate, I love these guys as much as you all do, they keep us so entertained! But I couldn’t resist having a little fun. (all pics from Google images)

Daily Prompt: Copies

The sincerest form of flattery (or extreme source of annoyance) is to copy something you admire. I have always loved the poem Indian Summer by William Campbell. We had to memorize it in grade five. Which I could not, I was an extremely introverted misfit and would go blank at just the thought of having to say anything to anyone. My fifth grade teacher was a mortifying copy of Ms. Finster (you know from Recess!) I blame some of my trauma on her. Actually I blame her for 89% of it. Here is Indian Summer and my rendition below it:

“Indian Summer”

Along the line of smoky hills

The crimson forest stands,

And all the day the blue-jay calls

Throughout the autumn lands.

Now by the brook the maple leans,

With all his glory spread;

And all the sumachs on the hills

Have turned their green to red.

Now, by great marshes wrapt in mist,

Or past some river’s mouth,

Throughout the long still autumn day

Wild birds are flying south.
“Kidsindahouse Summer”
Within the walls of smoke-filled kitchen,

The offspring burn their toast.

And all morning I bury skull in pillow,

In sleep I am engrossed.

Now by afternoon the house is still standing,

Although a filthy mess;

And all my brats claim innocence

None of them confess.

Now its high time I got out of bed,

I really need some tea,

Throughout our abode the kids do scatter

‘Cause I’m petrifying to see.

Finster

 

My fifth grade teacher actually looked just like this.

Desi Problems versus White People Problems

Last summer when I took the animals offspring to the park one beautiful lazy Saturday, I overheard a ‘white guy’ conversation about ‘white people’ problems. He was complaining about what a pain in the ass his ex-wife was. I felt sorry for him, of course I don’t know what her side of the story was. Maybe he was just a pathological liar. Some months later in a different park, I overheard a conversation between a young wife and her husband. I wonder of this makes me a pathological eavesdropper?

Anyways she was very loudly telling her husband just what she thought of him. Both these people had a lot of complaints and it was funny to me because ‘desi people’ problems are so ridiculously extreme compared to (some) white people problems.

Desi container

White Husband Problem: “Man my wife was so pissed, I forgot our anniversary again!”

Desi Husband Problem:  “Vat the hell is this? You call this roti? I wouldn’t feed this to dog on street! I’m going to my sister’s house!”

roti

White Wife Problem:  “My husband is such a jerk, he never puts the dishes away after washing them! I am so totally fed up of his crappy habits!”

Desi Wife Problem: “Hai Rubba! Vite men vash dishes?!”

desi woman

White People Problem: “Oh my God I still can’t decide where we are going to go for vacation this summer and I need to book seats or we won’t get them in time!”

Desi People Problem: “Niagara Falls? Do you know how much ve vill have to pay for parking just to see all that vater go down a cliff? Ven it starts going up, tell me, I vill pay to see that.”

White Mom in the Morning: “Honey wake up or we are going to be late!”

Desi Mom in the Morning: “Oye kumbakhton! Get up lazy good for nothings before I bring jug of ice vater!”

White Girl Problem: “My mom said I can’t have like more than $300 to buy a dress for the semi-formal can you like believe that?”

Desi Girl Problem: Desi Mom to Daughter : “Semi-formal, vat semi-formal? How do you expect to be a doctor if you are always out for mutter gush and not studying?”

Desi bus

Would you like to add any problems?

(all pics from Google..just google Desi problems!)

Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave your shoes at the door!

This is an article I wrote for the humor section of Dawn Images (Newspaper). Leave your shoes at the door! 

My shoes are at the door, and I put ‘his’ on. He has tips for bachelors, desi style!        Glossary for non-desis:                                                                                                       Saas-Jee: respectful for mother-in-law                                                                               Sali: literal: sister-in-law. Slang:jerk                                                                                          Salla: literal:brother-in-law. Slang:jerk.                                                                            Susur: father-in-law. Susura: jerk/idiot etc.

Marriage

So you are about to take the big step?? You’ve given Mom the go-ahead to find the perfect girl. Good for you — it is time you settled down, not getting any younger right? Just some advice, don’t go for the looks (God knows what they look like under all that makeup), don’t go for the modern girl (she’ll keep you at the end of a leash), don’t go for the status (daddy will always be downsizing you at get-togethers). Go for the orphan. Really, I am not joking. Go for the orphan.

I know what you’re thinking, that this is some kind of pathetic joke; that’s because you haven’t met the in-laws yet. So you’ve seen a girl or two and met their families; nice quiet folks, polite and interested. It’s a trap, all part of the plan to snare unsuspecting, happily unaware innocent guys like yourself into the most complex and thorny role in the history of man. The son-in-law.

You think I am some jealous, lonely, scheming bachelor trying to keep you from marital bliss? Believe me man, there’s no such thing! I’m in it up to my neck, trust me. Married for five years now, or should I say I was sold into slavery five years ago by my parents with the connivance of my married friends. They couldn’t deal with my freedom — traitors. I am doing you a favour, giving you the inside story.

Before you are married, your soon-to-be mother-in-law calls up your mother to ask how you are and how your job is going. She cooks nihari (your favourite) and sends it over with your soon-to-be respectful young brother in-law. She and your future sister-in-law pick up the latest designer shirts for you when they go shopping and hope you like it, if not they get it changed. Future mother-in-law knows all your likes and dislikes; after your mother, she is the one who is most concerned about your well-being. Until you get married.

You remember that story about the kids who get lost in the forest and this nice little old lady lets them into her candy house? That’s the stuff I am warning you about dude!! She’s gonna sink her teeth into you. After you get married the only time your mother-in-law phones is to listen to her daughter’s complaints about you and your family. She doesn’t talk to your mother because your wife always reaches the phone before anyone else, no matter where she is in the house she can hear the phone ring and it’s always her mother calling.

When Saas-jee does talk to you on the phone, it is to inform you that she needs to go somewhere and she’s giving you the honor of driving her there. While you are driving, you will have to listen attentively as she tells you how to live your life and the errors of your ways. You will be required to make sounds of agreement, and nod your head in the affirmative; never, ever speak, even to agree. What you have to say is inconsequential, you must only nod.

Gifts will be bestowed upon you on birthdays, anniversaries and Eid. The apparel is usually last year’s sale leftovers that were going at 80 per cent off. And if you think there is no way you would be caught dead in a parrot green kurta, think again my friend, think again! You have no idea how your sali searched every shop in Ramazan, whilst fasting, to find you the perfect kurta. Sali.

The only dish your wife’s rude little brother brings over is your wife’s favorite, which coincidentally, is some weird tasteless concoction with an even weirder name. You are informed it is French and given a patronizing look by your sala, who has incredible tolerance in dealing with your inexperienced, simpleton ways. Sala. Beware of Daddy (susur jee), the once jovial, back slapping, ‘so pleased to have you as part of our family’ gentleman. You whisked his princess away, you don’t treat her right, and man he is no longer pleased to have you as part of his family. He will let you know this, often and publicly. Be prepared beforehand and have your doctor prescribe you some heavy antidepressants. Always take at least two before attending his dinner parties, that way you’ll be totally out of it and won’t realise you are the butt of all his jokes. Susur(a).

Never think of older sister-in-law’s husband as an ally just because you are in the same boat. Big mistake; he’ll sink your boat to ensure smoother sailing of his own. He lets you believe he’s on your side, but after you get married, he gets promoted. He’s Big Daddy’s spy, he’ll sell you out just to get an approving nod from the old guy.

And that’s the inside story, just a second, phone’s ringing, “Hello? Yeah I’ll be there in 10 minutes. What? Be there in five? No, no it’s no problem at all. Five minutes, I’m coming.” Sali. Do you have a painkiller?

Writing: Adventures of a social media illiterate technophobe.

frustrated

In a fit of spasmodic enthusiasm I joined a variety of social media stuff I have not an inkling about. I’m convincing myself I can be social media savvy and cool as the hipster 20 somethings who wear plaid skinny pants and large amounts of multicolored medical gauze wrapped around their necks, forever engrossed in their expensive tablet-phone-camera gadget thingy.

hipster

Okay maybe I don’t wanna look like that.

But I would like to be savvy. You know just because I am at that point of life where I realize I have no idea where the past 17 years of my life went since the birth of offspring numero uno. It’s like waking up from a coma and thinking you are still twenty something because you were a little while ago. And I realize I am still stuck in the technology of the nineties ie: I can turn on a computer if I can locate the on button.

smash comp

Being a wannabe author  writer you are advised to have a platform. Agent websites will tell you in their extremely detailed instructions of do’s and don’ts that you need to have a substantial following. They don’t want to be bothered by some person who nobody knows. And nobody wants to know a person who Agents don’t want to be bothered about. What?

I joined Tumblr (against Teenager1′s advice), Delicious, Quora, and Hootesuite. I was already on Facebook (the only one easy enough to use), Twittter (where I tweet into strangely empty nothingness) and Google+ (but I didn’t know it!) I am also on Agent Query Connect, where I feel more at home. But I haven’t visited in a century because I haven’t managed to figure out a way to completely forego sleep.

t

According to Teenager 1 parents really should not be on Tumblr. It is for hip, emo, intellectual, whatever kids. Parents should stick to ‘mainstream’ stuff like Facebook, where they can post endless pictures of what they cooked the night before or how much snow they had to shovel from the driveway. I persisted however and I can now navigate my way around to find blogs that interest me. I also managed to hook up WordPress and Tumblr so that my posts appear there. Woohoo! I think by the end of this year I will actually manage to have at least two followers there. Hey you, follow me dammit!

delicious

The only thing I found Delicious useful for was bookmarking the endless amount of pages I use to research what I am writing about. These days? Politics and conspiracy theories. Did you know our existence is only a simulation? Delicious is pretty easy to use.

existence

Quora is too much information at the same time for my aluminum and fluoride ridden brain. You can ask any question (you have to see the stuff people ask!) and people from all corners of the Earth will answer you. I get all my answers from Agent Query Connect. But Quora is interesting if you have loads of time and nothing better to do than be intellectual. When I have loads of time I clean out the litter box. And brush my hair.

Frosty windows 024

“Fat Kitty needs to poop. Clean that litter box woman!”

Hootesuite is very handy because it organizes all the stuff you’ve entangled yourself in. I suspect the packages must be really good because what they are offering for free is quite useful and not that hard to use. It only took me a couple of weeks hours to figure out how to link all my social stuff up and be able to post from there. But I like posting to WordPress directly because I couldn’t manage to get pictures into the post from Hootesuite. I must be doing something wrong. If you have any idea let me know.

One piece of advice, if you are a dinosaur like me, use a nickname rather than your real name just in case you are scared to press buttons. I was, and for some reason whenever I press a button to test something out, I can never find out how to edit/delete it. Why can’t edit/delete buttons be big enough to find without a magnifying glass? Or a map. That way you won’t be embarrassed by a dumb post like “This is a test. I am uncool a newbie loser and this is my first post. Idiot Technophobe trying to learn lol.” Teenagers. Extreme facepalms.

uncool mom

The point is you have to invest a lot of time. Which really bugs the heck out of me because I want to get that novel written. The Young Adult world needs a Conspiracy Thriller that involves real people in the real world. There are too many witches, faeries, and demon slayers out there.

Desi Mom: Parenting 101

desi

I was born and (mostly) raised in Canada. My parents were clueless FOBs (fresh off the boat) and I blame them for my thoroughly awkward upbringing.  I was a total geeky loser in school, yes right up to high school. My post is absolutely not related to my traumatized childhood, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

Canada Day 2013 003

In the many years I spent in Pakistan I learned the importance of plastic shopping bags and yogurt containers. Also that if you aren’t quick at weddings when they signal dinner, you will find there is no coke left. Or chicken broast. So don’t be shy.

Raising five monsters kids in Karachi has given me, besides nerves of steel and the amazing ability to not go pee for  48 hours, some multicultural expertise I feel I must bestow on non-desi moms.

1. You can live without water: When there is no electricity for 9 hours straight you can count on running out of water. The kids need a shower. What the hell do you think baby powder was invented for? Douse those little buggers with it. Sprinkle it in their puppy dog smelling hair and dust it out. Not only will the greasiness be replaced with powderiness, the powder will absorb all further sweating. Inevitable since there’s no electricity and its 40 degrees in the house.

2. Never throw away plastic bags: Keep plastic bags handy in the car, in all your handbags and purses even in your jeans’ pockets. Teenager 2 always got car sick as a little boy. I could catch his involuntary projectile of gastric juice without blinking. Plastic bags are also good for when there is no gas station on a road trip. Or if you are in Karachi, where the gas stations are so dirty your child would prefer to poop his pants.

3. Don’t buy toys: You know very well that once the box is opened it takes about 3 and a half minutes for the charm of that $35 toy to disappear completely. My mother-in-law could keep Middle Child busy for hours with her empty plastic pill containers. The allure lay in the fact that the containers could be closed and opened again and again and again and….

4. Kids need to be spanked: Your kid needs to know you are the boss. If you think “let’s talk about what you are feeling right now” and “we need to think about the consequences” is working than you are a dummy mummy. That is Junior knowing he got away with it by showing remorse he certainly doesn’t feel, he or she is already planning the next escapade. Spank that kid! Just ask Russel Peters…”Somebody’s a gonna get a hurt!”

5. A good sweater can be used for at least four siblings. Oh yes I did. In the span of ten years. We still have the sweater.

6. Never praise your kids in their presence: Always ask them why they can’t be more like your sister’s children, your cousin’s children, your neighbor’s children, your brother-in-law’s children, anybody’s children. It keeps them competitive, no of course it will not hurt their self-esteem.

7. Always one up other moms: Don’t let your sister, your cousin, your neighbor or anyone else have the last word on their children’s achievements. Whatever they say is 50% exaggeration, beat them with their own rules. Example? Your child got her black belt last year. So what if she was only five?

Stay posted for more Desi tips.

May 2013 003

Angry Woman: Pull your goddamn pants up!

Ecards

I don’t know what the hell is wrong with people these days. The meaning of their pathetic lives is to piss other people off. Listen you dumb ass punks, you do not look cool when everyone can see your goddamn panties. Boxer shorts? You think those are boxer shorts? Men wear boxer shorts, not dumb ass sissies who show off those panties like Britney Spears wannabees. Shit when was the last time your Momma washed those filthy things?

baggy pants saggy fail

(“OMG that is so hot!” Said no one ever.)

Do you think any female in her right mind wants to see that? Do you still need Momma’s help pulling up your fucking pants after using the loo? That is what you want girls to think about when they see you? Or are you just fucking dyslexic? Girls stalk pics of shirtless guys with perfect abs, not butts hanging out. Some of those butts are so flat they are an insult to butts, nobody wants to see it in any case you fucking imbecile. Now pull up your goddamn pants Brittany!