Archive for women

DBX

Day 0 – Home, Karachi Airport, Dubai Airport, Oh so many beautiful Dubai men, Immigration, Drive home

Day 1 – Spinneys for a phone card, Bur Juman to kill time and check out the city, Burger King for a triple whopper that I could not control at all, CK, Gap, Giordano, Ibn Batuta for a very tired cart ride, Barasti for drinks and chilling, Bar Zar, Madinah Jumeira

Day 2 – Wild Wadi for water rides, Beautiful scantily clad men and women in a water park a la Dubai, Chilis because SD could have eaten two horses, Peanut Butter Jam for live music and that woman with the shrill voice, Casbar for dancing and watching extremely sexy guys

Day 3 – Ikea to get stuff but got late, Fudruckers for an amazing burger with excessive cheese, Festival City for a trip to see the mall, Waterfront Mall, Atlantis to check out the new hotel, Lost chambers to check out a million types of marine life, 360degrees for drinks and chillin, Burger King for the last time

Day 4 – Jumeira beach for checking out the guys and HS for checking out the chick (if HS’s wife is reading this, he was not checking out the chicks but missing you and he didnt even open his eyes), Dubai Marina beach to enjoy the beach, Bur Juman for frantic last minute shopping, Dubai Airport duty free incredibly cute guy flirting voraciously, Karachi Airport, Home.

Bitch Boobies

Day 10,148 – Friday – 06 Asadha 1930 – 22 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 27 June 2008

I was watching TV and about half an hour ago there appeared on screen a woman who had huge and beautiful breasts. And I mean, perfectly semi circular(spherical), large, ample, supple and absolutely amazing. I would like to apologize to all of my str8 friends for not finding out her name so that all of you could also have enjoyed checking her out online. But sorry. Instead of trying to bring beauty into your lives, I was thinking about what she would look like if she had bitch boobies. I have just concocted the term Bitch Boobies. That is boobies like a bitch. Multiple boobies. I was visualizing the chick with about six boobies. All over her chest and stomach. I think this prooves that I do have the ability to think ever so differently from the rest of my race. But, I think with six boobies, all the more for you boys! Carmen Electra; enjoy?!

I was watching a very song released by Shiraz Uppal. And, despite knowing that you will all judge me and hate me for saying something so seriously disturbingly shocking. But, I think he is very very very hot. And since I do have quite a bit of command over the English Language I will refrain from converting my train of thoughs and consciousness when I saw him to words on this blog. It just might be too much for my readers. And my own conscience when I read it later on

 

Madness

Day 10,102 – Monday – 22 Vaisakh 1930 – 06 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 12 May 2008

What utter, absolute, insane, useless madness! Why the hell do I get a proposition of the softer kind from a woman every fortnight. Why? I shall pen my reply for the coming generations to read. No, I do not want to sleep with you. No, I do not want to fall in love with you. No, I do not want to marry you. And no, I do not want to spend the rest of my life fathering your children. Thank you very much. I would rather have sex with OC from work, if only I had the courage to go upto him and he turns out to be gay, and if he is interested in sex, and if he is interested in me and we are able to find a suitable setting that will allow sex. And now that I have shown you all how seriously I feel about being propositioned by women I think I will still be able to marry a lesbian. Insane, you say? Yes, I reply.

Longish story shortish, doesnt make sense, but I went out for dinner with FF. Now she is a very close friend of a very close friend. And for some reason she thinks that the dinner was not a dinner. She thinks it was a “Dinner Thing”. I will give my listing of engagements below, but till such time, a dinner thing with FF is not a good thing. I can do dinner things with men, with whome there are possibilities, but with women it is just disturbing. As is all the incessant chatter about feelings and emotions. For Goodnesses sake, if I had feelings and emotions I would be menstruating right now.

So, I have no idea what to tell FF. She is expecting something, a call or another dinner or something. And here I am fuck scared of what to do. Maybe I am becoming a normal man, fear of commitment, not calling up women you meet up. Etc. Etc. But, all the same, I cant tell her I am gay, so I need an excuse.

Ladies? Your help required. Which is the best possible excuse?

Another thing, since my engagement has fallen apart and I was uncereminiously dumped by Dr Sahab after having fallen in love with him, women just cant get enough of me. I tell them that even though I didnt like my fiance I was ready to do it for the sake of family honour and she still dumped me, I can see the expression in their eyes stating firmly that my fiance was an idiot and I am God. Of course when I talked about Dr Sahab (converted into a female of course) and the fact that I fell in love with him (her sic?); the eyes, the eyes of the women I tell this to; their eyes become mellow and soft and pink. I can not explain. It is as if in their personal list of human beings I have climbed up twenty billion rungs of the ladder of humanity.

Ah, to be able to manipulate. I love it!

Effort

Day 10,085 – Friday – 05 Vaisakh 1930 – 18 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 25 April 2008

As defined by my friend AI from university, “relationships are a bitch”. Which when translated into the language of RA, the guy who sits in front of me at work, becomes, “relayshaships are a biyatch”. I love the word biyatch, it is a lot more direct and final than bitch. Moving on. Things with Doctor Sahab are going quite well. I am not going to be blogging about my relationship. I just will not. So help me God! But I will be blogging about themes of relationships that I have experienced in the past and that others have experienced. Interesting topic.

Even though I am quite psychotic, but, I do not make an effort in my relationship because I have to. I do it because of the way I feel about this thing. I do it because I want to. I have not reached the phase of commitment. Keeping in view my severe desire to keep absolutely independent whilst everyone around me adores me and makes me the centre of attention at all times, I will not be putting too much effort into this thing; because I have to. I am making the effort because I want to.

It is not because I am evil, afraid of commitment, self centered, oh and yes, “a bitch” – as per my evil friend SR from work. It is because I have just not reached that stage of this relationship.

And, as for the whole concept of demand and supple of effort, as opposed to the concept of demand and supply of products by Adam Smith, I have realized, that I do want him to make an effort. Something that scared the fucking hell out of me in each past relationship. I was told, in so many words, that I needed to make some effort. I mean, me, the paragon of nicety and selflessness, not making an effort! Let the Gods shudder!

Of course, despite being evil and sarcastic, I have not said this to Dr Sahab. I have learnt just one thing from all of my past failures at relationship management, do not tell people that they are not making an effort.

Of course, after Dr Sahab I now know how the other person feels. When the other person says, “you said you will call but you didnt. Why?” or when the other person says “you are free right now, but you are going out with friends?” and other such things. That is just not right, and it is dangerous. Because the moment you say something like that, the other person freaks the fuck out and wants to run out the nearest exit, no matter how much they like you.

Imagine a Deer, a beautiful young virile male deer with his antlers held high. Free as a buck. And then imagine an evil eyed doe, beautiful and young but with a huge noose of thorns and flesh cutting metallic protrusions. And then imagine the deer realizing that for the rest of his life, he will be held liable for every time he doesnt make a call or goes out with his friends or just needs to not pay excessive attention to the doe. Ok. So the guys get it. But the women – dont judge me, I am just the messenger of the turth of the species. Not the one who designed them.

But, the fact of the matter is that. I want effort. Because every time an effort is made, it makes me feel satisfied in the way this relationship is going. It makes clear the level of commitment of the other person. It provides me with a certainty, a finality, a sudden feeling of calm.

But, and please read this part, since I am not married to him, yet, I am not going to ask him to make an effort, because there is no other surefire way of making him run away than that. And frankly, I dont want him to make any effort that is out of the way for him. I want him to let this thing grow as naturally as it will grow. If it works out, it works out. If it doesnt, it doesnt. No artificial commitments.

Oh, and for once, I am not playing any games whatsoever.

PS – A relationship between two gay guys, who behave like straight guys as far as intimacy is concerned, is very very very very very difficult. Since there is absolutely no sharing of information on the topics of emotions and feelings, it is very dificult to gauge where everyone is. But, ladies! We do indeed get to share that, just by knowing the other person and not demanding to be told every five fucking seconds. Thank you.

Mondays

Day 10,032 – Monday – 24 Safar 1429 – 13 Phalgun 1929 – 03 March 2008

So, after work, my friends decide to drop me off. I agree. I am stupid. After a while I learn that they want to go to this summer clothing exhibition. Mausummery. At Marriott. I am stupid. I decided to enjoy it. I am stupid. So, we went there. The hotel had too many women roaming about. I should have gotten an idea. I am stupid.

When I entered the exhibition I was shocked to the very core of my being. Women, after seeing another thousand women and two hundred varieties of clothing go completely insane. Completely insane. They have no idea where they are. They have no idea what to do. They just move, as if my the powers of God, towards whatever piece of clothing they like. They do. I saw it today. And I will not be dissuaded by anyone telling me the contrary.

Those women were nuts. I got pushed by them. Some of them pushed me as they hurtled headlong into throngs of women gathered in front of the clothing items that they wanted. I felt like I was forced into a world of excessively large billiard balls and clothing. Those women would push and shove and shout and laugh and scream with glee. It was the scariest experience I have ever had with women. And this includes living with my mother and sisters. It was scary beyond all calculations. It was scary. I have been scarred for life.

But, one good thing came out of it, I think I have a much deeper understanding of women now, through this one experience, than I had throughout the period of my engagement. I saw the blank stared of the women moving towards clothing items. I saw it. And I was very very scared. Now, I know. I know you all for what you are. I know!

After this harrowing experience into the inner workings of the female brain me and a friend went out for coffee. And there, I saw two things, the sexiest man for the last quarter. That is three months. And the sexiest gadget for the last year. That is twelve months. The new Mac, the wafer thin light as fucking hell one.

I just could not decide on, given a choice, which one to have sex with, and which one to marry. I was just so seriously confused. But, in the end, the guy won. I did not do anything, but I think he was so cute, I can oil him up and massage him for anywhere between ten minutes and ten hours. Oh God. This excessive obsession with sex is definitely not good. Is it?

Melancholia

Tuesday – 17 Shawwal 1428 – 08 Kartika 1929 – 30 October 2007

To start off with, basically, wow. Has been long.

At first I thought that I was having my periods and that had thrown me completely out of my emotional balance. But then I remembered that men dont have periods. They basically don’t have any excuses for suddenly becoming emotionally insane. Except the usual female complaint of being “just pigs”. So I will use that. I am just a pig. And mind you, Pigs can have half hour long orgasms. As it can be seen I use a situation where I find my life completely miserable and a mere shadow of an exitence on the surface of a rather wavy pond and turn it into a source of immense envy in the hearts of others. Yes, half hour long. Not me, Pigs.

So, as some of you might see from my previous emails, I have been extremely depressed because of my state of being gay in Pakistan. No acceptance within my family or society. No chance of leading a gay life. No chance of being happy by not leading a gay life. Do not believe in cheating on my wife or fiance. Do not believe in sleeping with men if my family does not know or approve. More contradictions in one sentence than I am used to hear from some of the more imbecilic of my colleagues when I have to stop them in each sentence and tell them that they are just not making any fucking sense.

So, I have seen the whole of “3rd Rock from the Sun” in the past two weeks.  I just love the show, and by that I mean, I love it to a level considered taboo in most societies. And, I am reading Hardy – A pair of blue eyes. I absolutely adore Hardy. His works capture my life in ways that are haunting and relieving at the same time. After this I will read Tess. I loved Jude and the Mayor of Casterbridge.

And, in the ending I think I would like to say that most probably my depression is coming to an end. Or maybe not. Too early to tell. But I just hope that if my depression does continue I do not want to spend sixteen straight hours in front of the television just to not let my mind wander off to any other ideas.

Oh, and yes, if there are any eligible Lesbian women out there looking for gay guys to marry. Send me a fucking email so we can finalize the deal woman!

Meeting

Tuesday – 19 Ramazan 1428 – 10 Asvina 1929 – 02 October 2007

There was an awfully long meeting at work today. After spending two hours in the meeting room we decided to have a smoke and meet in the cafe for a bit. Smoking is strictly not allowed in Ramazan so we had to close the cafe and have a smoke. Everyone else having dispersed it was just me and my colleague from another department. And the idiot was wearing such a tight pair of pants. Not that I am complaining. I think he should do that every day. But even then. He was.

Jalal, will you please stop fucking staring at people’s crotches you are talking to specially after you both realize what you are doing.  I mean dude, please, behave yourself. How would you like if you were treated like a hunk of meat meant for lusty pursuits. Actually, that wont be so bad, but work is work, a cup of tea is a cup of tea, and tight pants are tight pants. So, from next time I will look him in the eyes like proper work conversation, so he doesnt tell me “Dude, I know you are gay, but, I am up here”.

So, the meeting was fun in the end. I ended up getting a lot of work done. That guy sortof mended fences with me. I got an additional responsibility to add to my already over worked status. But, otherwise all is good.

And the idiot who broke the signal, nearly bashed into my car, and scared the beejeezahz out of me should burn in hell while dogs feast on his rotting entrails.

And, “I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on, I will not call female colleagues fat cows from now on.”