21 Rajab 1425 My sister had to go shopping with…

21 Rajab 1425

My sister had to go shopping with a friend today. My father and mother schemed and plotted with each other and forced me to drive my sister around this city. All along they knew what well happen, but like I said, my parents hate me and they want to see me hurt and suffer for small offenses like calling my father Zia ul Haq behind his back and my mother a conservative.

Not unlike my deepest fears I had to stand at every boutique. Actually I will not call them boutiques. I will call them shops which sell pieces of cloth that moronic extortionistic designers have the audacity to call clothes. Drunk five year old children, pardon me, drunk five year old monkies could come up with better clothing.

To make matters worse her friend decided that I seemed cute enough to be hit on. She started hitting on me. That is to say, she started talking to me and she started laughing like an exceptionally hysterical hyena. This kind of behaviour is very uncommon for Pakistani girls with their friend’s brothers, in front of the afore mentioned sister/friend. I just smiled and then acted as if I wanted to go to the bathroom and ran as far away as the wind will carry me.

Eventually I came back to the two wemmenses. They had bought a horrifyingly purple peshwaz that I immediate decided was too western to be a peshwaz and too eastern to be anything else. It was the most horrible amalgam of east and west, including the desperate trials of Junoon to be counted as a western rock band.

When I got back home I was ready to bite my arms and go to sleep.

I drove 75.5 kilometers. I went to 33 shops (give or take a few). I spent 6 hours and 36 minutes.

AAAAA RRRRR GGGGG HHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!

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