And People Wonder Why I Mock Yemen….

It would seem rather contrived right? Yeah, that SOS, he just picked a random, dirt poor Muslim country to pick on. Who does he think he is? Actually, that’s not quite the case. My parents rived in Saudi Arabia a rong time ago, and the Saudis allow a number of Yemenis to “play Mexican” and perform menial tasks that the Saudis believed were below them. Given the Saudis’ tendency to patronizing anyone they consider inferior, one would not be astonished with the number of derisive sayings they have concerning their neighbors to the south. These sentiments were so pervasive that even the expats (like mommy and daddy) got in on the act. That means my childhood was filled not only with songs like “Wheels on the Bus” and “Row Row Row Your Boat” but also the following: “Hi ho, Hi Hee, I am a Yemeni, I wear a skirt, I work in the dirt, hi ho, hi ho…”

Well, a lifetime’s worth of inexplicable disdain for a people with which I never even had an encounter was justified yesterday when I read this article. It appears as if a young woman at the tender age of eight is getting a divorce. How do you expect me to have any respect for a country that allows its children to divorce at such a young age? What kind of Muslim country allows its women such freedom in the first place? Until Yemen can lower its staggering divorce rate amongst eight year olds, consider me a hater.

Reasons Why Bhutan is Badass

Bhutan, a small nation in the Himalayas sandwiched between India and China, is bitchin’ for the following reasons:

-the people of Bhutan are called the “Dragon People.” The monarch is referred to as the “Precious Ruler.” So, the king of Bhutan is “The Precious Ruler of the Dragon People.” Count it!

-There are no traffic lights in Bhutan. They put one up in 1999 in the capital of Thimphu, but people didn’t like it so they tore it down. However, they have embraced TV and the Internet. TV+Internet-Traffic Lights=Awesome.

-Bhutan had the privilege of playing in what is known as “the Other Final” in 2002. On the day of the World Cup Final, FIFA also arranges for the two worst teams according to their rankings to play one another. Bhutan not just avoided the humiliating distinction of the planet’s worst football team, but absolutely dominated Montserrat 4-0. You’ve got to feel bad for the Montserrat team. You lost to the second worst team in the planet 4-0. You must really suck.

-The official airline of Bhutan is Druk Air, which is one ‘n’ away from being the most hilarious airline name since “Ransom Airlines.”

-the Himalayan scenery=badass. Think snowy peaks towering over lush green valleys with Buddhist Monasteries clinging to the cliffs. Even better, they severely restrict foreign visitors so if you were able to go, you wouldn’t have to worry about your trip being ruined by douchebag Canadians who ramble on about how “totally, like, spiritual” the place is, how they’re “at one with peace because of this, like, tranquility,” and how most Americans “just wouldn’t get this.” Spare me. And get me on the next plane to Bhutan.

Valentine’s Day in Saudi Arabia: The Way It Should Be

Did you hear that Saudi Arabia banned Valentine’s Day? All red gifts and roses were outlawed on the holiday also known as Singles’ Awareness Day. Now, the Saudi government claimed that the reason for the prohibition of all things relating to le Saint-Valentin was because it promotes promiscuity and premarital liaisons. I suspect the real motivation behind the interdiction was as thus (translated from Arabic):

Oil Sheikh : Ugh, all Aisha will talk about is what she wants for Valentine’s Day. Last year, I bought her an effing Picasso, but that douchebag Fayed in Dubai bought his wife a palatial estate on Lake Geneva, so, now, Aisha also wants a house on Lake Geneva too, but with twice the square footage. I swear to Allah, I’m this close to waging a jihad on her ass.

Royal Prince: Dude, I know. I have the whole royal concubine to appease. And they all want late model Mercedes. And I’m all, like, “Bitch you ain’t even allowed to drive.” This is fucking absurd.

Oil Sheikh: Dude, I got an idea.

Royal Prince: Huh?

Oil Sheikh: You make the rules, dude. Unilaterally. So, just cancel the holiday. Blame the infidels, or some shit like that. Our people’ll eat that shit up for breakfast. And with the millions we save, we can buy a pound of coke, take the jet to Bangkok, and pork a ton of she-males.

Royal Prince: Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. (types a few numbers on his speakerphone) Get me the Dissemination of anti-Western Propaganda Department!

Language Deception!

-I shall continue to embrace the role of raconteur with a few tales of adventure from Frenchystan. And remember, I’m not one to dabble in apocryphal anecdotes, though I am prone to hyperbolic statements, so the stories I recount are at least 80% genuine, with a little embellishment along the way. Let me preface that I hate people. No, really, I do. Especially hungover. So, last Sunday morning (and obviously reeling from the previous evenings celebration), I took the train from Lyon back to Megève. I went to the very last car, and secured a booth all for myself, spread my limbs out to take up as much room as possible, placed my earbuds into the wax factory, and adorned my face with a scowl to dissuade fellow passengers from occupying my booth. Just as the train is about to pull out of the station, I think I’m in the clear, until I see a young Chinese couple (a skill I developed during my time in the Far East is I can now discern different Asian races from others by facial features alone with remarkable accuracy) moseying towards my sector of the train. Right then, I knew they’d be sitting in my booth. Shocker, I was correct. After they sat down, I slyly removed my headphones in order to eavesdrop on their conversation. In China, I used to play this game all the time, because whenever I would travel in rural areas, the Chinese would bluntly gossip about me assuming I didn’t speak Mandarin. Phrases I overheard ranged from “Why are all foreigners so fat” to “that foreign male has female hair!” (I had Jesus hair at the time). Once I even caught three teenagers debating whether I was handsome or not (one was correct, the other two were way off). My favorite part of this trickery is going up to the people once they’ve finished and conversing with them, listen to them half-heartedly apologize, and bask in the awkwardness. And the train scenario presented me a perfect situation to indulge in a little Chinese funtime. Unfortunately for me, these were the two most boring people on the planet. The girl said something about snow and scenery being pretty on at least ten separate occasions and when we went through a tunnel, she reacted as if Godzilla were invading Shanghai. These two were apparently newlyweds on their honeymoon, so I was hoping for a little dirty talk from the dude, something along the lines of “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you three ways from sideways” (I wouldn’t, she had the nastiest teeth. Instead of buying your wife a honeymoon in France, why not shell out a little dough for some orthodontic work?) or, at least overhear the blushing bride admit that “ hopefully our honeymoon in the auspicious year of the rat will bring good fortune and we shall conceive a baby boy to appease our most honored ancestors, Confucius, and our dutiful mothers and fathers. And so I don’t have to get another abortion.” But, noooooo, the most interesting topic they touched upon was how the weather in Wuhan (a muggy, smoggy river city in central China) differed from the Alps (no way!). I’d resigned myself to a story that never realized its potential, until right before I exited the train. At that point, the husband tapped my knee and said in English “excuse me sir, is this stop St. Gervais-les-Bains?” I seized the opportunity and Chinesed all over his face. “Xia.ge zhan (next station),” I replied, much to the young couple’s shock. The look on the girl’s face was priceless. She was initially astonished that this kid in rural France spoke decent Chinese, followed by a look of horror, as she tried to recall everything she said in the past hour that could have been really embarrassing. We shuo-ed some zhongwen for the next few minutes (I informed them that I studied in the great nation of Taiwan. Exacerbating political tensions? That’s your SOS!), and before I could dig myself into a deeper whole, the train reached my stop. I gave them a perfunctory zai jian and peaced before I could cause any more trouble.

-Being on the other side of this duplicity really sucks monkey balls, and it happened to me and my friend Fong once in Laos. Me and halfy (as we affectionately refer to our semi-Chinese companion) were pissed off pandas because this crappy hotel on the outskirts of Vientiane did not understand the concept of a voucher and charged us twice. Also, they refused to take my credit card because I hadn’t signed it, even though I had no less than four picture IDs with me (oh, herro 19^th century!), which only made us even more livid. Upon leaving the hotel, we took a shared taxi with a few other Laotians to downtown Vientiane. Fong and I vented our frustrations in a dialogue that went something like this: Me: “Those assholes knew EXACTLY what was going on, and they intentionally deceived us for a few more bucks. Fucking Laotians.” Fong (who in general is averse to profanity): “I hate fucking Laotians and I hate their fucking country.” We proceeded to seethe in silence for a few minutes, until one of the Laotians in front of us, turned around, and in flawless English asked: “So, you guys are American?” Ruh-roh! Turns out this Laotian was a Laotian-American and was none too pleased with our disparaging of his people. Fong and I, though clearly embarrassed, were rather surly at this point, so did we apologize? Hell, no! I just put on my headphones, closed my eyes, and went to a happy place: Chipotle.

Yet Another Reason Why I Am Disturbed By A Potential Clinton Presidency

The Economist’s columnist with the pen name“Lexington” brought up an interesting point a few weeks ago: if Hilldawg is elected, what exactly is Mr. Clinton going to do? He wields so much power, can we trust him and his jetset diplomacy under the guise of philanthropy? This article in The New York Times justifies illustrates my trepidation over a Bill Clinton without a leash. In September of 2005, Bill Clinton and commodity financier Frank Giustra found themselves at a banquet dinner in the Presidential palace of Central Asian republic of Kazakhstan. During this extravagant feast hosted by Kazakh prespot (this term will catch on!) Nursultan Nazarbayev, Bill Clinton enthusiastically lent his support for the Kazakh leader’s bid to preside over the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe or OSCE, a group responsible for monitoring elections and advocating democracy in the Old World. Well, Nazarbayev is the ideal candidate: he’s a purveyor of democracy, free elections, and inter-faction dialogue. Wait, no he’s not! He makes my top 10 worst dictators in the world. He hasn’t relinquished control of the Kazakh state since its inception. He won the last election with 91% of the vote in which all dissident groups were quelled. He squanders government funds in a manner that would make the Sultan of Brunei proud. Oh, and he’s certifiably mental. He decided to move the capital from the country’s largest city and economic capital, the surprisingly temperate Almaty (or Alma Ata)to Astana, which is more centrally located, but is one of the most uninhabitable places in the world to presumably create a “Potemkin Village” in order to fool foreign investors into pouring money into the country. The dry desert steppes are insufferably hot in the summer (35-40 degrees Celsius) and are terribly frigid in the winter (wind chill temperatures around -35 to -40 Celsius). Most government officials refuse to reside in the uncomfortable capital and commute every week from Almaty to Astana, driving up the number of funds that are wasted. In addition to moving the capital to Astana, Nazarbayev decided to build a major international airport costing hundreds of millions of dollars in Astana, hoping to attract both Asian and European air carriers as a stopover point between the Far East and the EU. Apparently Nazarbayev was unaware of any developments in the airline industry over the past two decades, because airplanes like the Boeing 777 and Airbus A340 can make the trip easily from all points in Asia to Europe without any payload restrictions. Anyone remotely familiar with the airline business knows that the fastest way to alienate lucrative business passengers and annoy average economy passengers is to introduce an unnecessary stop en route. Obviously, with the exception of shuttle flights to Almaty, and a handful of flights to fellow CIS capitals (recent weekly flights to Frankfurt and Istanbul were recently introduced, but this still does not justify such a lavish construction), the airport is mostly deserted, constituting a monumental waste in funds. Back to the point, why on Earth would our friend Biller support the candidacy of Nazarbayev? As this NY Times article informs us, his friend Giustra is a newbie in the uranium industry, and a contract in mineral rich Kazakhstan would really help him enter the market. Low and behold, the contract is awarded, and a $31 million donation finds its way to one of the Clinton’s foundations courtesy of Mr. Giustra. Clearly, Mr. Clinton is willing to engage in business deals with unscrupulous leaders for his own monetary benefit, which could obviously be detrimental to our country. Though the majority of his international activities are quite charitable, it’s actions like these that trouble me (not to mention Hilldawg in general!).

Is anyone else surprised that the industry leader in dog cloning is based in South Korea?

Me Neither.

(This Was Not An Empty Threat)

this video, courtesy of Zilbert, almost made me piss myself. Also, it receives perfect marks on the “Bollywood Authenticity Checklist.” 1) All Western clothing is from the Eighties? Check. 2) At least four costume changes? Check. 3) At least one shot in the Himalayas? Check. 4) No sign of poverty or overpopulation? Check. 5) At least twenty of your closest friends necessary to declare your love? Check.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZA1NoOOoaNw&feature=related

-this video, courtesy of Gree, is almost as funny.

See, I DO Like Korea!

Speaking of women I’d two-hole, I “stumbled” across this picture of Song Hye-Kyo. For my money, easily the hottest woman in the world right meow. I’d make so many half-Korean babies with her. Nelly Furtado comes in a close second, though. And I’d make so many half-PortoCanadian babies with her. See, I like white girls too!

This Is Why I Am Not In Charge Of A Sovereign Fund

So the government of Dubai has recently embraced a few unorthodox investment strategies. And by unorthodox, I mean it was as if they entered the depths of my psyche, determined how I would spend 2 billion dollars, and decided to employ their funds accordingly. First, they put in a 1.2 billion USD bid for a European football club (Even though it was faggypants Liverpool, they’re on the right track!), and then they decided to build a 9 digit, multi-square mile replica of the city of Lyon…in Dubai! As the gastronomic capital of the world, Lyon was the natural choice. Personally, I think the rich, creamy, hearty cuisine of the Rhone Valley would be revolting in Dubai’s 120 degree Fahrenheit heat. Replete with gothic architecture, a culinary school, and even a soccer club (Olympique Lyonnais Oriental anyone?), they clearly intend for this replica to be a bizarro world version of the French original. My question is, for the sake of bizarro authenticity, does this mean they’re going to have Muslims living in downtown Lyon, and underpaid white people living in decrepit satellite towns just outside the city constantly rioting?! Count it!

Benazir Bhutto: An Unorthodox Eulogy

-As we all know, Benazir Bhutto was tragically assassinated a few weeks ago. Her security was deplorably minimal. Her own family even prognosticated that something of this nature might occur. People, however, while eulogizing the former Pakistani PM, have exaggerated her death as the end of any possible democracy for South Asia’s largest country. Benazir Bhutto was about as capable a leader as I am a swimsuit model. As was so eloquently depicted by Imaduddin Ahmed in his IHT op-ed piece “Bhutto’s true colors,” ‘in a shocking display of ineptitude, Pakistan’s first woman prime minister failed to pass a single piece of major legislation during her first 20 months in power. According to Amnesty International, Bhutto’s particular brand of democracy while in office - in the words of historian William Dalrymple, “elective feudalism” - brought some of the world’s highest numbers of extrajudicial killings, torture, and custodial deaths.’ Furthermore, while in exile, Bhutto consistently derided Musharraf for expelling the chief justice and eliminating any semblance of judicial impartiality in the country. However, Bhutto’s complaints stopped abruptly once Musharraf passed an ordinance making previous charges of corruption non-retroactive. Looks like someone was hanging out with Silvio Birlusconi while in exile! Benazir Bhotto’s death was undoubtedly a tragedy, but let’s not lose sight posthumously of who she really was: a shoddy leader.

(WRITTEN JANUARY 15, 200