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Godot's Page: March 2009

Godot's Page

Gatekeeper to the Theater of the Absurd

Tuesday, 17 March 2009

How Two A-rabs Win Their First Oscar/Grammy

In the spirit of desecrating all that is serious, and deprecating all that is dramatic, the Sandmonkey and I have embarked on a creative endeavor documenting the tales, trials and tribulation on the alpha-est of male heroines. The bastard child of James Bond and a semi-retarded Arab farm girl if you will. Born in Andalusia and thrown into the Rafah border, we give you ZOBRO – THE PALESTINIAN AVENGER!
This is what happens when great minds are independently bored at work:

me: Pali liberals dude. Ramalla is like the new Woodstock
Sam: tell me more
me: go to Ramalla now every ird thinks he’s so god damn enlightened, all they wanna do is smoke hash and shag to some vintage pink floyd psychedelic rock
its kind of awesome actually
except for the bit when they try too hard
Sam: lol
me: i might be moving there soon, i'll tell u all about it later today
Sam: listen, i will come visit if you let me kill hamas peoples
me: I always had this fantasy of wearing some chic mask gallivanting around the streets of Gaza with a pair of Desert Eagles .50, smoothly dodging katyushas and using those green clad retards as target practice
Sam: lol
I am in
me: then I'll move on to the IDF fucksticks who would be too busy cheering me on. Little do they realize, the masked Zoro of Falasteen does not discriminate, for they are all retards to him
Afterwards, I'll just give it to Jordan and Israel, as long as they give us passports, voting rights, and free HBO
Sam: u should write a novel
but don't call it zoro
call it ZEBRO
no no…ZOBRO!
i can see it
The Mask of Zobro
The Return of Zobro
me: Frank Miller's Zobro…starring Mickey Rourke… kick ass
Sam: who will be your arch nemesis?
I vote for Suha Arafat
She would have the snatch of doom
me: magharet j3eeta, full effects with bats and everything
the ghost of Yasin and an old decrepit Suha Arafat modeled pretty closely on Heather Mills
Sam: lol
Sam: and, like a proper Palestinian hero, you must have dozens of children
which would make a totally new franchise
Welad zobro
me: Lol! Of course, I will profile my character on a softer Ali Hasan Salameh, the 'playboy' drunkard and unsuspecting womanizer.
Sam: I like
Sam: Episode 4: Zobro vs. Tzipi
me: hahahaha
in a cathartic twist, a wasted Zobro shags tzipi after their chance encounter in the Hero/Villain Den Bar (our own version of Central Perk), or is it the other way around he wonders the following morning, shortly before committing Seppuku
me: Zobro has to be headstrong, hard willed, but conflicted. I could see a method actor pulling it off, maybe Josh Hartnett with a Versace hair cut


me: Dude, screenplay or pilot? I vote pilot turned movie with horrible critical reception ‘that never lived up to the series’ and a cult following thereafter
Sam: exactly what i am thinking
Sam: lets draw storyaords and plot lines
me: im so down
Sam: and have my people call ur people
me: set up a meeting somewhere and order food that’s not on the menu
Sam: it should be animated
We must be aware that we might end up getting gay Palestinians fan base of Zobro
me: I’m thinking nizo would be a fan
Sam: and they would be like "Zobro fills us up with Palestinian pride...to the hilt."
i am thinking nizo should be a frenemy
me: def
Sam: he likes Zobro, but can't have zobro
me: that should be his tagline in wiki notes
Sam: with one of them fighting his lust for another
dude, we would win an oscar
me: atleaaaaast a palm d'or

Stay tuned for the periodic bolgisodes: The Chronicles of Zobro: The Palestinian Avenger.

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Thursday, 12 March 2009

Shameless Cronyism and Promotion II

Remember her? She's in Gaza, she's writing, she's cool, she's future sister in law, she's Queen of Sheba.

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Chas Speaks his Mind

Read his whole statement here, then look at some of the comments. Interesting.

"The outrageous agitation that followed the leak of my pending appointment will be seen by many to raise serious questions about whether the Obama administration will be able to make its own decisions about the Middle East and related issues. I regret that my willingness to serve the new administration has ended by casting doubt on its ability to consider, let alone decide what policies might best serve the interests of the United States rather than those of a Lobby intent on enforcing the will and interests of a foreign government."


Wednesday, 11 March 2009


“Ya walaaaaaaaad! Yalla 3al ghadaaaaaaa, jiddak ija ya 7aywan!” “What a rude awakening,” I thought as I grabbed the nearby Kawthar bottle in an attempt to rid my throat of the God-awful Ulker cracker stick stench from the night before…those salt granules really make the smoking experience less enjoyable, and don’t get me started on the carbon monoxide induced headache that comes with them. Through the glass I gazed at the bathroom counter and saw my Anita - half full – happily returning the gesture as if to congratulate me for my inevitable inauguration into the world of Versace styled haircuts, leaving behind all un-cool memories of Marines in its shadow. My 501’s beckoned, my No Fear Tshirt signifying Eid, and as many zgortat did that morning, I put on my Black Flight jacket with orange lining on my shoulders to compliment my recently acquired CAT Steel-toe Busstar. Man do I look cool.

Walking towards the living room, I hear the theme song to ‘Lady Lady,’ at which point I decide to make a male role model of myself and rescue little Saad from his over-dominating sister. God does he need it. Commandingly, with last night’s fight at Nadia’s dancing party in mind I say “Saad! Shu bti3mal? Roo7 hott Captain Majed juwwal Betamax, hayyo bil dorj honak ya ghabi.” Striding down the hallway, my inner smile lighting me up for the lesson in guyhood I just gave, my shoulders wide, and my jacket puffed, I greet the family, so cocksure that they view me as the rebel god that I really am.

Throughout the feast, my sense of self-alienation manifests itself in the form of constant time watching. Cool guys belonged in certain places at certain times. And at 3:30, any guy worth his soul belonged in the Nadi. If I’m not playing shirtless football, I should be in an endless discussion with the shabab about the new girl in our class, and how ‘obvious’ her hint to me was as we crossed and switched positions on the dancing line.

The refusal to our lounge entry attempt reminded us all of the mu3al -18 on our carefully laminated membership cards, but the laughter in the halfway told the story of our still-in-tact confidence. Sitting on top of the bench over looking the bowling alley, M slips in a 10 Piaster Coin into the juke box and selects ‘All That She Wants’ so as to poke fun at A who wrongfully sang out ‘all manshimong’, thus destroying any chance he had with N, whom he’d been nervously chatting to down by the Pepsi machine. Noticing A’s expressions, I decide to avoid what could have been the breakdown of the Trio by immediately switching to Abu Yousef, thereby catalyzing at least one minute of the communal ritual of what is known in the West as break-dancing, but colloquially referred to as ‘rap’. My Reebok Air Pumps were in close contention with S's LA Gear light action sneakers.

On the way home, my concentration on the various opinions the taxi driver had to offer on the topic of Abu Shakoosh were cut short, in a bitter sweet moment, when I see the banner ‘Al 3awda ila al madares’ on the sign post on a local maktabeh..."Ilyoam kan fakhem," I think to myself.

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Monday, 2 March 2009


...reaches for double-barrel, inserts two slugs, cocks the barrel, brain on wall.. There should be a legal grey area for killing some people.