Lebanon.

Ok. Second post in a day, but this really made me cry.

Amidst war-mongering voices of people who try to justify what Israel is doing to Lebanon by using "muslim fanatic terrorists" as a good excuse, I can't help but feel angry at how post 9/11 propoganda is being used for every blunder or push towards an instable middle east by Israel and by the power that sponsors it.

There is a worldwide distrust towards muslims since the attacks in London and Spain... and it shadows straight thinking when it comes to affairs where the muslim is a genuine victim.

This makes no difference to what I'm going to show you. Because even though the West won't denounce Israel's attacks on Lebanese civillians, many fail to realise that a huge portion of these people aren't even muslim at all. Infact, they are christians.

Would we be sitting by watching this happen if it happened in any other non-muslim country? What's wrong with us?!?!

See through the eyes of the Lebanese.

Without Internet

What was I thinking?!?! I trusted my most prized possession in the hands of my better half, and as he touched it.. BOOM!! It just blew up. A big explosion smashed the windows and a plume of smoke engulfed the house.

Ok. It wasn't exactly like that. But the point is: my pc stopped working. As I watched on, in what seemed like a frame in frozen time, I contemplated mouth to mouth resuscitation, kicking it (maybe it was a lose wire. You never know!), kicking my husband - but I quickly realized that that's not a very good idea, and finally, suicide.

My husband glanced at me and winced.. then he was like "Erm, I didn't touch it! It wasn't me!" *rolls eyes*.

I look at my monitor. It's black. Oooohhhh Myyyy Gaaawwdddd!!!! I want to fall to the floor and cry like a baby.. I want to kick and scream.. and shout "It's BLAACCKKK!!!" at the top of my lungs but I would look like a complete and utter fool, because my monitor has always been black. But today it is also not working.

Depression starts to take over and a huge black cloud comes down on me.
As I lay down in despair, with un-blowdried hair and unshaved legs, I wait for death to come for me.

Then the door bell goes.. Tsk!! Please go away, can't you see I'm trying to depress myself to death here!!

It's my brother.. and he's come to fix my pc! I can't believe it!! This is express service if there ever was any! In less than 12 hours! :D

I guess I can hide the noose now.

Thanks bro. :D

Oh those eyes.

"No", I shouted as I stormed off leaving her to cry in her bed. She's on punishment. Again.

I'm going to have to think of something new soon. This is getting old. As I get on with mopping up the mess, her screams seem like they could tear down the house. Of course, we have different kinds of crying.

Crying type1. "I hurt myself. Really. I did." This one may have a delayed reaction. She scruntches her nose and distorts her lips, bares her teeth and lets out this high pitched whinge that starts a couple of octaves higher than it finishes. This may stop for a while, and start again once mummy is looking at her.

Crying type2. "But I don't want to!!" She frowns and gives me the dirtiest look. Then puts on like this strained smile and moans throught it with her teeth clenched.

Crying type3. "Oh pity me!" First, the frustration. So screaming and squeeling kick off. Throw in a couple of threats.. "If you don't take me out of punishment right now, I'll throw your computer (toy) away!" then a few more frustration screams when I refuse to aknowledge her threats.. and after a while in comes the pity me cry.

She looks at me with those big blue teary eyes that could melt a rock. The corners of her mouth twist down.. and she cocks her head to one side.. "But I love you mummy, and I'm so so so sorry, I won't ever never do it again. Ever. I really won't. I promise!"

As I got up to her she hugs me.. almost like she's holding on to dear life. and as I lift her out of bed I get, "Now I've been a good girl. Can I have some chocolate?" *rolls eyes*

Pandora's Box

In Greek mythology, Pandora was the first woman on earth. Zeus ordered the god of craftsmanship, to create her and he did, using water and earth. The gods endowed her with many talents; Aphrodite gave her beauty, Apollo music, Hermes persuasion, and so forth. Hence her name: Pandora, "all-gifted".

When Prometheus stole fire from heaven, Zeus took vengeance by presenting Pandora to Epimetheus, Prometheus' brother.

With her, Pandora had a jar which she was not to open under any circumstance. Impelled by her natural curiosity, Pandora opened the jar, and all evil contained escaped and spread over the earth. She hastened to close the lid, but the whole contents of the jar had escaped, except for one thing which lay at the bottom, and that was Hope.

Be advised the link contains graphical images of the war in Lebanon.

It's not funny

Dammit! Is it morning already?

I shut my eyes tighter maybe time would just reverse.. and the sun would disappear, the noise would go away and I can get back to my dream that was cut way too short. And as I try to force myself to carry on with my dream, I find myself getting further and further away from it.. forgetting vital details.. I get desperate ... try to re-live the whole dream to remember where it left off.. what went wrong.. and why the hell is someone calling me? Can't you see I am having a dream? Go AWAY!

Is this some joke? Some joke my mind is playing on me? First it creates these crazy thoughts, gets you liking them enough to make it into a story and then as it's getting to the exciting bit, the lights go on. Gee. Thanks brain.

After what seems like an eternity of struggle, I give up and open my eyes. The bright light washes all the sweet memories away, and there I am, sitting in harsh reality.

Yes. It's morning.

A habit I can't kick.

Dear Dr. Phil,

I am afrayed for ma aown safety and so I am writing this lettar as a cawll foor help. I have a habit that has turned into an addiction a lawng time ago. I have tried to re-habilitayte ma'self many taames in the paaast and wonce I contemplayted compleytely givin' up. I'm very embarrassed to speak about this on 'naational tey'vay' but I am e' frayed that if I don't change ma ways I maaay end up ded.

Dr. Phil, pleays elp me .
The nail biter.

Stupid Shoutbox!!! AAGGHHHRRR!!!

My shoutbox hates me. When it actually appears on the page, it absolutely won't let me post messages in it. It's telling me my cookies are deactivated.

I fekkin' hope so! I don't want radioactive biscuits, thankyouverymuch.

So, dear readers, even though I am not replying, because I don't have the right brand of Chocolate Uranium Biscuits, I am still reading your comments and appreciating them.


Edit: I have scrapped the shoutbox and chosen a new one that doesn't ask for sweets.

Please only post messages that make me look good. Thank you.

Dry your eyes.

How easy it is for us to take each day, each word, each person and each moment for granted. And how much we ache when these things are taken away from us abrubtly. Like the body shuts down and stops reasoning properly. Our spirit dies and we don't care about anything anymore. We don't care if we make fools of ourselves on our mission to recover the scraps left behind. We are desperate to bring our lives back to 'normality', back to the same routine we had before, the same security and comfort.

We feel lost as if in a huge desert without a map or guide. Just vast emptiness. We are usually so in control of what happens in our lives, that when we have no control over a situation, it completely knocks us off our feet.


We breakdown in seemingly unending sadness and those around us try to comfort us but their words just don't hit the mark. We lie there, letting our minds go over it time and time again. We blame ourselves, we blame others, then we blame ourselves again. The healing process begins when we cry our eyes out in despair. We flush our system from all the bottled up emotion, fear, anger and stress. Then we feel wasted. And we're bitter, probably more so when we realise what we've just put ourselves through to simply accept the facts of the way things have turned out.

Dry your eyes, mate. ;)

The day I fell in love with Gozo.

What a day!

We spent the day in Gozo with the kids! It has been 3 yrs since I took the 20 minute ferry ride over.. and this morning, completely out of the blue, we decided to spend the day there... Sometimes the more you plan and dwell on something, the more likely it is to fall through.

The weather was beautiful, the sea lovely... we got there in time for lunch.. so we went to a restaurant in Marsalforn. I ordered king prawns in garlic and I was quite pissed off when I realised that they served (5) king prawns with a handfull of chips and a "burger" salad!

Heck! That was overpriced!

I wouldn't have ordered it if I'd known I was getting a 'kiddies' meal. Oh well. I wasn't gonna let something like food ruin my mood.

After lunch, we went swimming in Hondoq. What a beautiful place! I've always loved it there.

We really enjoyed it and managed not to get stung by the jellyfish masses that began arriving..

After that, we went to Xlendi for a pizza... but the kids slept. So we took a take away and eat on the rocks, beside the car, and watched the sun set over the Xlendi cliffs. How beautiful!

We purposely stayed late to miss the ferry traffic and queue. At 20.30 we find ourselves behind a line of traffic appearantly going to the ferry. My husband thought he can drive past the "queue" but we found a copper at the bottom who sent us back. This did not sink my husband's heart, I thought, as he took a turn that led to God knows where... we ended up going through this village... trying to get our bearings.. and I noticed how peaceful and clean everywhere was. "What a great place to bring your kids up", I thought. And this idea grew on me. I don't think I'd mind living in Gozo if push came to shove. In fact, I think I'd like the tranquility.

Everything is so well looked after. It shows that a woman is behind it's management.

Ana Yalli Bhebbak

I have an addiction.


And this addiction is for the music of a Lebanese singer called Nancy Ajram. I can make out parts and sometimes most of the lyrics because Lebanese is so close to Maltese. The latest 'I can't get this song out of my head' attack is due to her latest release, Ana Yalli Bhebbak.

For my fellow Maltese who didn't have Arabic as school subject, Ana is Jiena, yalli is illi and bhebbak is nhobbok. So it means: I, the one that loves you. Other words you might make out are 'wahdi' 'ghomri' 'tibqa' 'rridek' 'habibi' 'nar' 'b'har' 'biss' and 'qalbek/qalbi'.


I'm not into soppy songs much but this is far from soppy. The lyrics may be a bit.. but the beat and the music are .. I have no words for it.. I love percussion, and arabic music is designed to make you want to move. Ok, not them guys who sing like they're giving birth ...infact, I tend to like music from female arabian singers more than from men.


This is the music clip for Ana yalli bhebbak.



Nothing stunning, cos this tune was made for a jewellery commercial. But the music is still awesome.

Today I learnt...

...that your heart doesn't really stop when you sneeze.

Yes. I know. Unbelievable but true.

And I've had a hard time convincing a group of people. And I haven't quite succeeded. In fact, I've convinced no one yet. It seems they're happier to think that they die and come back to life hundreds of times a year.

Next, I'm gonna try and convince them that the earth is round.

This is gonna be a hard one I know. But in the name of mother knowledge, who does not exist, I shall descend on these people like a white eagle with big ears, and show them the way to macaroni and cheese, tampons and the microwave.

And they will shoot down this eagle with lightning bolts from their arse.

Dammit!

Men and their dinkies.

What is it with the worldly importance of the male sexual organ? Why is it something that has been drawn, sculptured and admired for thousands of years?

Even mother nature has her own version... meet the REAL magic mushroom.


The Phallus Impudicus.


Also known as the "Stink horn" ...


It's so perfect that it usually has one or more "balls" at it's base.






Another interesting phallus would be the one in Luqa, Malta that greets our tourists as they drive past it on their way to their hotels.




Look at the magnificent proportions of this erect man-made sculpture. And believe me, it must have been a MAN who came up with that!








And finally, to conclude our biology lesson today, here is a funny animation of a guy who has a special relationship with his dinky.

Enjoy! ROFL!

Censored. For your own protection.

Hah! Yeah right. Since when does someone else decide what we must and mustn't watch or listen to? And what gives this person or body of people the right or the knowledge to deem anything as something not fit for a mature audience? We see so much thriller movies, full of gore! Is it that bad if we chose to see something that was shocking but was real opposed to invented and staged?

Mind you, some countries have it worse. In some countries, the populace is treated like children. Media is filtered so only the nice, pro-government information and images are permitted. Like cartoons that have a happy ending.



You know, Snow White never did die of asphyxiation. She just lay in her air tight coffin for a couple of years with a piece of poisoned apple lodged in her trachea, until her prince rescued her.

What?! It's true! Honest!!!

Does size matter? No really, does it?

Of course it bloody does!

If it didn't, why do we have spoons and tablespoons? Why do we have saucers and plates? Espressos and cappuccinos?

"Would you like to Go Large, Sir?"

Ok. Now before you start crying, just think.. does the size of your bank account matter? Does the size of your car engine matter? Does the size of your wife's arse matter?

See...? :)

Size DOES matter after all!





Now, tell me, what's the size of your shoes?

Woohooo! I have a blog!

Yey! A blog! And it's mine! It's mine!! All mine!! Mwuahahahaha!!!

So, here is a place to post ramblings, rant, slander, utter rubbish and take the piss out of anything that annoys me. I might put something nice in too. Maybe.

I'm a lovely girl. Really I am. :) *hides cleaver behind back*

SOOOooooo...

*thinks*

let's start off with a warning.

If you are easily offended and/or do not possess a sense of humour, leave.

No.

Run.
As fast as you can.. the door is this way..