The walking P.R. disaster who is PakistanÂ’s president canÂ’t get a break. Nor should he, since he is a dick AND a weasel. I hate to throw two slang references to the male anatomy in the same paragraph, but damn Gina…if youÂ’re going to front like youÂ’re cold-blooded, have the balls to follow through with that unwise approach. Pervez, denying that you made a heartless comment which the entire world heard is only soiling the bed you made and have to lie in…no pun intended.

Care for some background, in case you’re just joining us?

Almost two weeks ago, I posted that the clue-free President of Pakistan was staying at the Roosevelt Hotel in NYC and that a protest was planned outside of it, to shame Mushie into owning his countryÂ’s pathetic approach to human rights for women. Later, I blogged about his sputtering reaction to the vocal horde outside his temporary Manhattan quarters.

As the human rights and women groups protested outside the Roosevelt Hotel against the treatment of rape victims in Pakistan, Gen Musharraf said that such protests should be held in and not outside Pakistan.[link]

Well, today he got his wish. Continue reading →

When I commenced grad school at GW, new-to-DC-me spent a lot of time in “J street”, a food court so egregiously expensive and depressingly mediocre, I have NEVER complained about airport food since. One night, while gagging down waffle fries from Chik-fil-a, I was yanked away from my deep-fried poo by a popular Bangladeshi kid whom Sajit probably remembers. 😀

“Come on, come with me, RIGHT now!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, but I need your help!”

Intrigued, I closed my textbooks and followed him, chucking Chik-fil-ewww on the way. Within minutes I was somewhere I had never been, looking at super hot boys in soccer togs.

“What is this?”

“IM soccer. You’re on our team.”

I chortled, but he was serious. Since he was heading a co-ed team, he needed a certain number of women on the floor and they were one short. Never mind that at that point in my life, I was more of a futbol spectator than a participant, I was suddenly a player. They told me to just stand there, so that they wouldn’t have to forfeit. I stayed in my corner while the footie fiends whom I had befriended kept the ball far away from me. Their efforts were wasted; the other team destroyed them.

I’ll say this much for my friend– at least he used a “live” woman to achieve his ends.

:+: Continue reading →