LS, it's not April yet, man.

Originally posted by Canjeex: ^ Nobody bashed any women as far as i'm concerned(though some karbaashing is much needed) There ain't no karbaash like a self-karbaash.

A, wax wax kuu dhalaad u baahantahey miyaa? Find yourself a surrogate mother who won't have to hang around and see you bring up the kids. Then get somebody else to bring up the kids. Whatever, really so long as the kids get reared as faaaaaar away from you as possible! Waan ku la kaftamaya. Or am I? Mwahahaha.

Originally posted by Alle-ubaahne: I was praying for you this holly month that you find a good guy other than me, sii wad. since I was taken by four wives who married me at one time waa lagu guurasaday miyaa? So, how is everything else sister? I am doing good, alxamdulilah. markaan kaa neefinwaayey ayaad banaanka buuqaaga u la soo baxday. An 'A' for persistence. Tell me about the other ladies that used to love me............ are they housed for good or they still roaming around? Waa la xereeyey. They wear straight-jackets over their duruuc. Oh, I miss this place, especially your constant targeting of my posts and endless deletings! Iga ma maarmi kartid. Adiga iyo tobaneyoo kale. Ok, ciid mubaarak hee, and nabadeey. Wali ma aha Ciid, yaakhi. The best of Ramadan remains laakin ciid wanaagsan, ducadana sii wad.

What is it about Ramadan that brings out the women-bashing in some?

I'd say high-end prostitutes are less likely to be forced; many will be in it of their free will. Whores who come at a high price will have to look the part; a harassed, abused whore isn't worth big bucks. City boy wouldn't pay big money for damaged goods. It's simple economics. I don't know, if I were paying a lot of money for sex I'd want a whore that was worth the price. Then again I never would so maybe I have no conecpt of what to look for in a whore. Maybe abused is THE desirable look. Hmm, whom to ask?

War na daa.

Lol, no I don't remember, er, should I? 6K a week! I don't know that the women at such establishments are enslaved or abused. They're high end whores and would be taken care of- whore in a bad state, City boy won't pay up. He has standards, you see.

^u remember! I worked at least 65 hours last week. I didn't know there were that many hours in a week let alone work them during Ramadan. My work colleagues think I'm superwoman lol. So, little time for reflection, tarawiih or cooking/sharing food. Things are back to normal now alhamdullilah so I'll make the next half of this Ramadan extra extra extra special. I too have porridge. Oats have a low GI(or was it high?), anyway slow realsing foods are the way to go. I love the how-much-water-can-you-down-before-dawn game. Knowing your kidneys will flush it all out and kick you out of bed in that short period after going back to bed anyway.

I feel your pain, N. I too had a similar disappointment when I opened my email a short while ago and found no message from my current flirt. We must keep hope alive. Admin, Admin on the board, who's got the permission-denied-est PMs of them all?

Wouldn't Switzerland be at the top of Most Boring too?

^ spiritual-correctness? If they can't resist being tempted by words, they can't resist much can they? We had an awesome food thread last year...I haven't cooked once this Ramadan so far. I couldn't tell you what I ate either. Blur is the word for it so far. I hope for it to change here on in. How come nobody's got anything inspiring to say this Ramadan? Or is it always this way? Blurrrrrrr......

^the girls are to blame for using the men- they want something out of the situation, though they don't get quite what they bargained(wrong word really) for. Naive is a nice way of describing what a hell a lot of women do, ending up in a brothel(against their will) or a hotel room(by choice) for material gain. I'd say women from cultures where milking(another wrong word) men is acceptable are more at risk. Poverty alone can not explain it. False flattery gets you everywhere. The government ought to clear out all those upstairs flats flooding Soho with their dim red lights. What do they think goes on in there? Puppet shows? I walk by those places and see men look left and right in case they are seen by someone they know and quickly disappear up narrow stairs. I was waiting outside a restaurant for friends once with a friend who was checking out the men going in, u know, making comments like 'U'd never think he would, would you? I mean look at him'. I was trying not to but I knew what she meant. These joints must be popular for them to flourish. In the 15 minutes we were there, a steady stream of men appeared, disappeared, appeared and disappeared. She was still talking about Mr Clean-living looking when he shot the down the stairs and out. 'That was quick', she quipped. No wonder house properties are astronomical. If it's not a whore-house, it's not affordable. Blah.

Couldn't care less so long as it doesn't smell. Assuming it's a natural burp and not one that's released by an individual pretending to be his own wind instrument, vibrating it out in a long goat-like drag. Then I want to stick a finger in their eye. Uff.

^LoL. Generous aren't you?

Originally posted by rudy: i have seen women who sleep at nite with their legs pointing to heaven since the nature clock has run out! or have electrodes connected to their abdomen! You have seen them cause u're the one impregnating them(and failing by your own account) or are you a medical practitioner? Or do you dream this stuff like some of us dream of going to work with no clothes on(classic anxiety dream). By far the most interesting contribution to his topic.

^LoooL. U show 'em! Maybe Khalaf should not be so repulsed by the human form but make his boundaries clear.

Originally posted by Xoogsade: If the guy doesn't ask you to marry him and he knows you very well, probably he isn't interested, so don't bother asking. Don't men think like that about women? Or are they all sure a woman who shows interest wants to marry them? The man should be the one seeking the woman's hand although I wouldn't find a woman who asks a man to marry her strange. Just smitten. Why 'should'? A man can be afraid of rejection and sh*t scared or waiting for something to materialise for him(money, home etc.). And why smitten? A woman can know a good thing when she sees it. What purpose does it serve- the gender of the asker being male? Much ado about nothing I reckon. Val, you make it sound painful. Hearing a 'No' is not the end of the world. Nothing to be gained but a husband, nothing to be lost but a man who doesn't want to commit. Win-win.

^Whoa, lol, let the men be men an demonstrate that by asking a question. Hmm, how manly that sounds, I swoon at the thought. I qabta. What kind of woman are you wasting your valuable time? If you want to marry the knight in shining armour, just ask. It's a wonder they don't unsheath their swords and be done with these ladies and their passive, telepatic communications. ThePoint, unislamic? To ask a man to marry you? Only if u were a man yourself I say! Explain. Needless to say, make it good, baby. Val, cheating? By asking a married man to marry me? How so?

^what isn't?

Originally posted by Castro: Hmmm. Have you ever? Yes. Life is simple when u make it so.

^that you can't think of a third means something. Mwahaha. I haven't asked. Will you marry me?

^Yes. I have succumbed to the fruit goodness. Though the attempt to negate the hidden and visible fat that was dinner is just having me be a glutton. Slap on wrist had I the energy. Good to see you too. There's goat meat inbetween your missing front teeth. Eew. How do you do that? Velcro on cirid?

Originally posted by Mr. Red Sea: So the two options are, would you rather ask a guy to marry you in fear of falling into sin(sex outside of marriage), or would you not, and choose to go on with your self desires which may ultimately lead you into trouble down the road? Assalamu Calaykum. People don't fall into sin; it's not a pit that suddenly opens up beneath, woops, down you go. Your two-dimensional world is limited. Why is it only one or the other? I would ask a man to marry me. If he said no, I'd think my loss, yep, mine and his(natch) and move on. You don't get if you don't ask. Men aren't psychic, give them a break, save the signalling for driving. What's important is the end result not the who-asked, when and how and what society makes it mean. Blah, live your life.

Troll corner, I miss it. I needed it at about 3pm today when I was useless at work and still had to sit at desk useless at being useless. Gone are the days when I pretended to be busy in times of abject uselessness. This last blast of warm weather..there ought to be a smell-o-meter on the tube to warn the sensitive. I escaped the office at 5pm today only to stand next to somebody that had a certain something on him or is it of him that was in the early stages of putrification. I stared at his back, up-ed and down-ed him but saw no sign of gangrene. Relieved yet irritated I twisted my body away and tried to read my book. Every once in a while a gust of warm air(where from I dare not ponder) would reintroduce me to this man's eau de unnatural and I would wince. Is there a drought? Or is it hip to smell in the 00s? Later on the bus with a hint of pong, whilst stuck in traffic, I stared out into the world and watched a Muslim woman drop her heavy weight onto a low wall and pull her pram closer to her. I busied myself with her possible ethnicity- Turkish, Kurdish..when her face broke into an unexpected smile and she gabbered something to the child. Suddenly she bends forward, does 'the khaakh' and propels into the ground a ball of mucus. She sits back, darts her tongue back in quickly in an attempt to retrieve a lingering neither on mouth neither on floor drip and fails. The drip drops into her red hijab. I turn away and ask the universe why, why-oh-why it has to make me privy to its ouucc. I jump off the bus leaving behind a chorus of swearing- the bus ended at that stop unexpectedly but mercifully it was my stop- and I walked into the supermarket. In the buscuit aisle-never shop when hungry- I walk into a cloud of weed. Or skunk. Or hash. This too has become common-place, smoking in public places, youngsters and oldsters leaving behind a trail of marijuana gas; the new way to pass the spliff. I got home and made the most wholesome dessert imaginable- strawberry yoghurt, dried berries, polmengranate, nectarines, banana, cherries and sugar to taste(so I cheated) and sat down to eat not it but cheese and onion rolls followed by a greasy Turkish burger. I love London-living. Now who wants a healthy dessert? I have run out of room and the ooucc(self-induced this time) has returned. Ah, I feel like a troll.