Tuesday, February 11, 2014

I am a pig. Love me anyway

This one is for you. Yes, you. Come on, you know who you are. 

No? You don’t know who you are? No matter, read on…

We spoke, we met, we clicked, we loved, we fucked and we loved some more. It was all good. Then, I dropped mustard on my shirt… And you had this look in your eyes. When I dropped Ketchup on my jeans you started to think that, maybe, just maybe, I was a pig.

You see, the thing about pigs is that they are one of the most intelligent animals out there. Yet, they love garbage. Its the way they are. Me, I tend to put drop sauces on myself. Mustard, Ketchup, Jus, cream pie… On myself. Continuously.

But, truth is, my dearest… I look at you the same way I look at Pizza. With lust, hunger and knowing that you will probably stain my shirt… I miss our late nights. I miss our time in bed watching television. I miss the times when we argued about this and that and couldn’t remember what this and that were. I miss the… closeness

But, It’s my fault. I should eat more slowly. Make an effort

In the end, my friend, my lover, my hero… Stay with me. Or better yet. Come back.

Herlock Sholmes

Wednesday, January 02, 2013

You're not my type

"You're not my type" was all that she said as she was leaving. That's it. No "goodbye", "thank you for dinner", "nice to meet you" or anything of the sort. Just "you're not my type"

 I wonder what it was that made her reach this conclusion. Was it the mustard I dropped on my shirt? The fact that I wore Nike sneakers to the dinner? My loud voice? The fact that I am 112kg overweight or that she is taller than me? All of the above? Who knows...

 Dating is such terrible sorrow these days. Women won't even spare my feelings anymore. It used to be that they would end the date by saying "nice to have met you" then proceed to ignore my calls for 6 months until I finally got the message. It used to be that they would smile at the end of the date and thank me for having such a wonderful time, then proceed to defriend me on Facebook, block my calls and get a restraining order. It was all so civilized before.

 "You're not my type". Couldn't she have just ignored the hole in the back of my pants? It was a small hole after all. Is it my fault if I can't find jeans that fit me anymore? Besides, I was wearing underwear. It's not like I was dating commando.

 Women today are completely weird. They expect to be wined and dined, they expect the man to wear nice fashionable cloth, they expect to be picked up, they expect to be handed some flowers and so much more. Don't they know that we work for a living and that money is not infinite? Next thing you know, they'll start asking us for 3 months bank statements along with a salary certificate before accepting a first date.

 "You're not my type". That's too bad because you were my type. Tall, blond, nice curves - in the right places, deep blue eyes, smart, funny and rich.

 Haroun El Poussah

Monday, September 19, 2011

In Ancient times...

Over the course of history, there are only two professions that have existed and flourished in every civilization on every continent. The profession I would like to discuss today, is mentioned in both the Koran, the Bible and the Torah and it is not that of Prostitute and this one is not mentioned in, at least, one of these books.

It is the profession of peer to peer money Lender. Or "Lender" for short

Since the dawn of time, some people have needed something that other people could provide. And, since the dawn of time, there were individuals willing to Lend for a price. These people have been hated throughout history and have been vilified as the lowest of the lowest scums

In fact, they provide an important and necessary service that has contributed to the advancement of man in to the modern society. In the times before recorded history, Lenders gave meat to the hunters during winter to enable them to keep their strength and hunt during the summer. The payment? More meat!

Later, Lenders would provide grains for crops in exchange for… More grain! And, when they could not provide this grain, the village would die. yes, yes, starve to death.

Over the years, this profession was hated by everyone. Not because it was not a necessary cornerstone of society but because they rates they were charging were outrageous and most importantly the collateral they were requesting was high

Collateral. The collateral they were requesting is the bones. They would break them if you didn't pay. Understandable since they had no other way to secure their investment. The threat of breaking every bone in the Lendee;s body was the motivation to pay back

So, most of you are by now, either asleep - bored to death, or wondering why I am sharing this in a blog called the Dubai Dating Chronicles.

Well, I met a Lender last night. She gave me sex… in return for…. more sex

Haroun El Poussah

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Shadows in the night

It was dark. She was naked. It was humid. The AC did not work. She was annoyed. She huffed and puffed. The TV was showing an episode of friends (The one with the Duck)

A few days ago, an old friend of mine called to see if I wanted to go for some drinks. Those of you, dear readers (few as you have become) that know me personally know that I am not a big drinker. 10-12 beers a night would be the usual for me, no more. My friend, by contrast is a big drinker. I usually think twice before going anywhere with him. His secret weapon is to always tell me which beautiful woman will also be there. This time, it was Odette.

Odette is Linchsteinian or how ever else you call people from Liechtenstein. Odette spoke english with a delightful accent that was neither french, not german but the accent of someone who speaks 4-5 languages and has no defining accent in any language. She was tall, blond and most importantly had a wonderfully intelligent smile.

The linchtenstanian is a beautiful language. Full of words that rhyme with Lich, Stan and Stein. It flows on the tongue like hot honey on a nostril. And, Odette spoke Lich, Stan and Steinian beautifully. She whispered in my ears Lichtan words of seductions, Stanian words of mystery and a few Steinian words that I later found to be insults. She did that all night

The evening went well. I was my usual charming self and we had a good time. Then, as the evening was ending and it was time to ask for the bill and reach for our wallets, Odette asked my friend if she could sleep at his house that evening. Something about her boyfriend not liking it when she got home late and drunk.

The night was young. Odette was home. I was alone. The AC was back on. The sheets were wet. It was humid still. I was sweaty. I has slept alone. Again.

Haroun El Poussah

Monday, February 14, 2011


I never thought Egyptians had it in them. I just didn’t.

Once again, Egypt and Egyptians prove me wrong. And, for once, I am proud they did!

Haroun el Poussah

Thursday, February 10, 2011


Anna: “Allo”
Me: “Hi, Anna. It’s Haroun”
Anna: “who?
Me: “Haroun”
Anna: “I don’t know any Haroun’s”
Me: “We met yesterday at the Buddha Bar”
Anna: “I have never been to Buddha Bar”
Me: “Yesterday”
Anna: “Nope”
Me: “Sure, it’s you. I recognize your voice. “
Anna: “Nope”
Me: “Hum, If you don’t want to talk to me just say so, but don’t tell me you weren’t at Buddha bar last night”
Anna: “I wasn’t”
Me: “Ok, would you like to have coffee with me this weekend?”
Anna: “You must be mentally retarded”
Me: “Yes, that’s what most girls I meet say”
Anna: “Well we haven’t met and I can tell it’s not all Kosher up there”

Haroun el Poussah

Not Funny

Last night I went to the Buddha Bar. I found a table. I ordered. I ate. I finished a couple of drinks. I left.

As I was walking to my car, a black Lexus SUV with tainted windows pulled up to me. I stopped and waited. Wondering who was behind the opaque glass.

I imagined a gorgeous tall brunette with penetrating black eyes and a pair of sensuous lips. I imagined her asking me for directions to her hotel room. I imagined her asking me if I wanted to join her for a drink. I imagined small drops red wine all over her... Hum, this blog doesn’t have a PG15 rating so I’d better just tell you who was behind the window

Anyhow, as I was saying, the car pulled up and the window slowly came down. Sitting, in the passenger seat was.... My ex.

Ok, so no wine, no tall brunette, no penetrating eyes. Well, penetrating but for different reasons

She asked me if I wanted to join them for a drink, which is surprising considering we haven’t spoken in quite some time. But, I am not one to refuse free drinks. Even from the devil himself. So, I acquiesced to her request (I watch too many movies)

We went back in and I ordered my usual Black Russian. Although, since I have watched the Big Lebowski for the 100th time, I am considering switching to white Russians. But, I digress. (been taking English classes)

As we were sitting there, her, her beau and myself, a friend of her joined us. For the sake of preserving the dignity and privacy of anyone who can be friends with my ex, we will call her Anna.

Anna, was decent looking. Not gorgeous. Not ugly. No fake nails. Smelled nice. I love it when a woman smells like a woman should

We shared a few drinks, a few laughs and as we were walking about I asked Anna for her number.

She gave it to me. Just like that. No argument. No discussion. 056 1649210

I will be calling her in a few minutes. Wish me luck

Haroun el Poussah

Thursday, February 03, 2011

Comback Kid

All I usually ask for in a woman, on a first date, is that she have 2 arms, a couple of eyes, at most one nose, a couple of ears and some hair. I never thought this was a demanding thing to ask for.

Until last night

Last night, I met this girl for the first time. She did have the right amount of limbs, ears, eyes and two nostrils exactly, no more, no less. However, I discovered that I need to add a few things to my list of “asks”

I know, I know, most of you think I will add stuff like brains and sense of humour. But really, in the dark, do these things matter? These things are only used to get to the “in the dark” part. But once there, it’s not what matters

What does then?

1. Smelling good – maybe good is an over-reach. Smelling neutral
2. Clean feet
3. Lice-free hair
4. No runny noise (imagine hearing a “sniff sniff” in between every “oh yes”)
5. No artificial nails. They hurt and break

It seems that the dating landscape has changed in the few years since I have reported my adventures. The comeback may end up being more difficult than expected

Haroun el Poussah

I am back

Like Conan the Barbarian and Doogy the Terminator, I am back!

Yes, ladies and Gentleman, it seems that life, circumstances and my desperate need for attention have gotten the best of me and the Dubai Dating Chronicles are back

Over the last few years, my dating skills have, unfortunately, not improved. I have been dumped, ignored, shun, emotionally castrated (not to mention a few attempts at physical castration) and the wind of time has not made me any wiser when it comes to women.

I am back, these are my chronicles. Enjoy

Haroun el Poussah

Monday, February 12, 2007


Dear Readers,

First, I would like to thank you all for coming here day in and day out. Your time has always been appreciated and I hope that these chronicles were as much fun for you to read as they were for me to write.

This blog is now closed until further notice. The dating adventures of Haroun El Poussah have now come to an end.

Haroun El Poussah

Friday, February 09, 2007

Is she worth it?

Relationships are hard. They are hard to start, hard to maintain and hard to end. Relationships are also complicated. No matter what we say, any relationship worth having is both hard and complicated. The question that I often ask myself when I look at a woman is: Is she worth it? You see, in my opinion when I start a relationship, I take on a series of responsibilities and challenges. Starting a relationship means not running away at the first sign of trouble, it means sticking by her during the good times and the bad times, it means accepting the unacceptable, it means compromising on what you thought was un-compromisable, it means swallowing your pride to preserve hers, it means loosing yourself so that she can find herself. These are not easy things to do. But once you start the relationship, this is what you must be prepared to go through.

So, back to my question: “Is she worth it?”. “Would I be willing to go through the gates of hell for her?”. If the answer is no, then better to walk away. I always feel that relationships are out of 10. If one party gives 8, the other will give 2, if one party gives 4 the other will give 6. When I explain this concept to most people, they immediately assume that the successful relationships are those where both give 5. This is, in my opinion, not correct. Successful relationships are those where the numbers change constantly and no one keeps track.

Unfortunately it is very difficult not to keep track. It’s human nature. It is human nature to bicker and count mistakes and to re-open dead issues over and over and over again. That’s just the way we are. It takes a supreme effort that goes against everything we stand for as human beings to not do that. So, my second question for a relationship is “Is she worth it?”. Is she worth that effort? When the day comes that I have to choose between her and the bickering, who/what will my choice be?

Relationships are hard. They end. They end badly. They end in disaster. And they hurt. However, there are also good things in relationships: The companionship, the closeness, the sharing, the intimacy, the comfort and so much more. How do you balance those two? For me, I simply try to weight one against the other and just ask myself “Is she worth it? Is she worth the risk?

The beauty about such a question is that it really allows me to test everything against it. For me, it just comes down to that simple equation. Is everything that will happen next worth the risk of what might happen afterwards?

I know it might sound selfish at first glance. But when you really look at it, it is not really. It is a question that insures that I will try my very best, each and every time. No compromises on that. If she’s worth it, then she deserves my best, nothing less

Haroun El Poussah

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Snob or Gay?

Last night I was on a date! I had dinner. It was a nice dinner, by the beach, weather was very nice, a good amount of alcohol was consumed, and the company was great. 4 hours flew by without me noticing at all. She was smart, funny, interesting and most of all making me laugh. Amazingly I didn’t drop anything on my shirt, jeans or hair and I didn’t make an ass of myself as I usually do (Well, at least I think I didn’t).

As I was driving her home, she turns to me and in the most serious of tones she says: “You’re quite a snob”

According to Wikipedia: A snob, guilty of snobbery, is a person that adopts the world-view that other people are inherently inferior for any one of a variety of reasons including supposed intellect, wealth, education, ancestry, etc. A snob imitates the manners, adopts the world-view and affects the lifestyle of a social class of people to which he or she aspires. That "right" is not necessarily a birth-right: a Pseudo-intellectual is a type of snob. A snob is perceived by those being imitated as an "arriviste", perhaps nouveau riche or parvenu, and the elite group closes ranks to exclude such outsiders, often by developing elaborate social codes, symbolic status and recognizable marks of language. The snobs in response refine their behavior model (Norbert Elias 1983).

Apparently, I treated waiters to harshly, not giving them the proper respect they are due. Having thought about it, I decided to mend my ways. So, at lunch today, this is what happened:

Me: “Good afternoon. Before we order, I would like to thank you for being our waiter today. It is a pleasure, an honor and a privilege to be served by you today”
Claire: “Huh?”
Me: “If you don’t mind, I will start with a Caesar salad”
Claire: “uhu”
Me: “To be followed, with your permission, by a steak”
Claire: “uhu”
Me: “Do you have any suggestions as to how I would want to have it cooked?”
Claire: “huh?”
Me: “May I have it Medium well please?”
Claire: “uhu”
Me: “Thank you very much Claire, it was so kind of you to spend some time at our table”
Claire: “huh?”

Claire: “I have a weirdo on table 4. He is either hitting on me or he’s gay”
Sheryll: “Fucking weirdo!”
Claire: “uhu”

Me: “Excuse me Claire, may you be so kind as to get me some extra water?”
Claire: “uhu”
Me: “Thank you kindly”
Claire: “huh?”

Claire: “He’s gay”
Sheryll: “Let’s set him up with Antonio, the chef”
Claire: “uhu”

Haroun El Poussah

Monday, February 05, 2007


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Iraqi Business

Medium Kahuna – My new Boss - MK: “Good morning Herlock”
Small Kahuna (me): “Good morning MK”
MK: “I just got back from Washington and we need to open an office in Iraq”
Me: “where?”
MK: “Iraq”
Me: “Which Iraq? The one next to Kuwait?”
MK: “No, no, Iraq in the Middle East. You know, Iraq”
Me: “Oh, that one”
MK: “Yes, we have to open an office there”
Me: “Why?”
MK: “Well, my contacts in DC, that’s our capital here in America, are telling me that they are pumping a lot of money into Iraq and as American companies we need to invest there to take the money back to America. We get tax breaks for that”
Me: “Will your contact in DC come to our opening there?”
MK :”No, of course not”
Me: “Will you come? I think it would show that we are serious about the business there”
MK : “No, I can’t go, I am American”
Me :”Since when do American need permission to got to Iraq? You have 150,000 people there without permission”
MK :”No, I meant it’s dangerous for me”
Me: “Oh, I see. Well who will open it then? We need a Medium Kahuna to open a new office, nothing less will do”
MK: “You open it. You are only a small Kahuna but it’s ok for Iraq”
Me:: “I see, you don’t want to go to Iraq yourself because it is dangerous but you want me to go”
MK: “Yes, you speak Arabic”
Me: “I thought American English was the national language of Iraq now”
MK: “Don’t get smart with me”
Me: “You think Arabic words will stop the bullets or the axe?”
MK :” Well, let’s get an Iraqi to do it”
Me: “And where will we find an Iraqi willing to work for an American company in Baghdad?”
MK: “That’s your problem”
Me: “Ok, fair enough. Please let me know who the company lawyer is who will travel to Baghdad to set up the legalities of the office”
MK: “Our legal department is in the UK, you know that”
Me: “And?”
MK: “They can’t travel to Iraq”
Me: “There are over 12,000 Brits in Iraq as we speak. How did they get there?”
MK: “Listen, these are your problems, handle them! Bye”

On this wonderful conversation, I decided to call Big Kahuna, Medium Kahuna’s boss and the company’s second to top Kahuna

Me: “Good morning BK”
BK: “ Herlock what a pleasant surprise. We were just talking about you yesterday in DC, that’s our capital here in America, and we were saying how wonderful it would be to have an office in Iraq”
Me: “That’s why I am calling, I think it is a great idea. Wonderful really”
BK: “Yes, I am very excited”
Me: “It will require some investment though”
BK: “Anything you need Herlock, anything you need. We are really 100% committed to doing this and we really support you on it with anything you need”
Me: “Excellent, so I will coordinate with your secretary to organize your visit to the opening”
BK: “Opening?”
Me: “Office Opening”
BK: “I can’t come over to Iraq”
Me: “Why not, this is really important to show commitment”
BK: “I am American, I can’t go to Iraq”
Me: “Why not”
BK: “Americans are not allowed in Iraq”
Me: “Really?”
BK: “Absolutely, you’ll have to find someone else”
Me: “Hum, I think it will look really bad if an American company opens up in Iraq but none of the American leadership shows up. It will send a message that they are scared shitless to be there”
BK: “We are scared shitless. They kill Americans over there”
BK: “Listen, Bush, that’s our president here in America, is sending more troops to Iraq. So the situation will stabilize in no time. Let’s talk about it again then”

And, that, ladies and gentlemen is how you avoid opening offices in Iraq

Herlock Sholmes

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Turkish Delights

Yesterday I went partying. I went partying in a way that I hadn’t been in a long, long, long time. The kind of partying where everyone in the group knows that what happens during that night will not be talked about again. It will remain, forever, unmentioned. Being with a group of men, having a “anything goes” agreement and having, between us, enough cash to buy a virtually un-limited supply of alcohol is a terrifying thing

I am in Turkey at the moment for some business. Last night, the group and I decided to go to dinner to the country’s best fish restaurant. That of course started the evening with a few bottle of white wine (Macon Village of course). At the end of dinner, the group decided to continue the evening in Istanbul’s poshest nightspot. For my part I told them I’d go to the hotel because I had someone to talk to and I couldn’t afford to do so while being any more inebriated then I was. Turns out after I got to the hotel that the person I was to talk to had tanneshed me in the worst of ways

I called up the guys and said: “don’t go anywhere, I am on my way”

Now, a few of you readers have partied with me in real life. For those that haven’t, let me give you my 4 rules of true partying:

  1. It must be with a group that doesn’t need to worry about the costs of the drinks. This allows the drinks to flow freely and for rounds to be bought without real care about the costs
  2. There must be an iron clad, unwritten rule that what ever happens that night will be forgiven and forgotten in the morning.
  3. There must be absolute trust between all involved that rule #2 would be followed
  4. Anything goes

Yesterday, the conditions for partying were perfect. To top this off, the group I was with was absolutely amazing and the place we were in was frequented by an absolutely amazing group of people.

I wish I could tell you tales of me approaching woman and making a fool of myself or of food dropped on my shirt. However, the amount of alcohol consumed made everything seem perfect. I have in front of me the bill form last night. We were six people and we consumed: 58 tequila shots, 12 B52s, 8 draught beers (mine), 11 glasses of wine, 2 black Russians (probably mine), 6 martinis, 1 bottle of champagne, 1 bottle of blue label, 226 coronas (looks like we had a “drinks are on us” moment), 12 flaming Lamborghinis and 23 sambucas

I will not tell you how much it actually cost and I can’t really remember who paid. But I’ll be checking my credit card and I think I’ll make sure it wasn’t me!!

Well, it’s now 8:30 in the morning, I just got back to the room 30 minutes ago, I have a meeting in 30 minutes, I shall shower and go. Maybe later tonight, after my day, which I am sure will be very long, I will tell you all about what actually happened during that night. Oh, wait, rule #3!! Sorry guys, I’ll take it to my grave.

I wonder how the others are doing, I am suppose to see them all in 30 minutes. How many of them will show up? How many are passed out in their room? It’s an important meeting, we should be in top shape for it. I think I’ll have a beer before going, just to make sure I am at my peak.

Haroun El Poussah


Hello, My name is Herlock and I am a rule breakoholic

We all live with rules in our lives and, as Middle Easterners, we also live to break those rules. We naturally assume that those rules are stupid and we work endlessly to find ways around them.

We, as Middle easterners tell ourselves that we know better, that these rules are set by idiots anyway and that there is no real point in following them. Anyone who has ever been in Egypt will know that every person in the country thinks that the rules of traffic are stupid and don’t serve any purpose. Any one who has been to Oman will know that rules of speed and haste are abandoned at the border. Anyone who’s ever been to Saudi will know that rules of politeness and common courtesy only apply to a select few.

The worse rules to break are the ones we put for ourselves. I mean, if we can’t follow our own rules, those that we have set for our own protection and well being, what does that say about us?

Having said that, sometimes it is good to break rules. Not all the rules are set by wise men with wise intentions. Not all rules are set when the mind is clear and the emotions calm. I, for one, have been, over the last few days, breaking one of my most sacred rules. A rule that I haven’t broken in a lifetime. Last night, I sat and wondered why am I acting against my instincts, good sense and counsel?

The answer is quite simple: Because I dread the consequence of following that rule more than those of breaking it. Having thought about it, I realized that this is the only valid reason to break a rule. It is the only acceptable reason to break a rule. Think about it, what is the use of a rule that makes following it more terrifying then letting go of it? Does such a rule serve any purpose?

I am sure some will come and leave comments citing morality, health, safety and other issues that make the above not apply. However, let it be known that breaking some rules is so sweet that I shall continue to break them and attend my Rule Breaker Anonymous (RBA) meetings every week

Herlock Sholmes

Sunday, January 21, 2007


It is generally quite difficult for someone I don’t know to get in touch with me. Even if he has my email or telephone number it is not that easy. I get about 1500 emails a day and usually I only answer a few and I never answer calls from numbers I don’t know. I transfer those to my secretary. Also, my phone is usually on silent 99% of the time and I miss a lot of calls.

Over the last 3-4 days I’ve received no less that 35 calls from the telesales lady at the Shangri La trying to sell me a VIP card. Each time she called she left a message with my secretary who was too nice to tell her I was not interested.

So, this morning when she called, I picked up:

Me: “Good morning”
Shangri La Lady (SLL): “Good morning Mr. Sholmes”
Me: “Good morning”
SLL: “I am calling you regarding our VIP card”
Me: “Yes?”
SLL: “Are you interested Sir? If you accept, you get 30% discount on most outlet and a SPA massage for free”
Me: “I get a free massage?”
SLL: “Yes, are you interested?”
Me: “Of course, a free massage would do me a world of good”
SLL: “Excellent, let me just confirm your details. Your name is Herlock Sholmes?”
Me: “Yes”
SLL: “And you are still a Tiny Kahuna at your company?”
Me: “No, I moved to Dubai Transport
SLL: “OH, excellent, and what do you do there?”
Me: “Taxi Driver”

I am sure, she will not call again

Herlock Sholmes

Friday, January 19, 2007


Last night I had to take my boss and his GF out to dinner. When we finished they insisted to go to a bar for company paid drinks. I had other plans for last night but I couldn’t really say NO to my boss.

So, I took them to my favorite drinking spot in Dubai. My Boss, being American, likes to sit at the bar. Unlike him, I like tables in a dark remote corner of the room where I can see what is going around

Anyway, we were at the bar, my 55 year old boss was all over his 25 year old girlfriend doing and saying things to her that I really didn’t know were Kosher for a 55 year old (or Halal for that matter.)

His hand was all over the place, his lips were like a freaking machine and the 15 year old was making noises that would have awoken Kennedy from his grave.

After a few minutes of this and while I was slowly distancing myself from them, boss turns around and tell me: “This place is too quiet, we need action!”. Hey, what do I know about action in Dubai? “What kind of action?”. I figured making him talk would take his lips away from the girl’s breasts. Her dress was stained with saliva spots on the nipples. This was getting embarrassing. “A hot place with music, girls and action”

Well, I only know of one place in Dubai where he can suck his date’s nipples and have loud music and loose women around. Cyclone!

When we walked in, I could see the sheer excitement on his face. I could feel raw emotions coming from her. I could feel complete boredom falling on me!

They immediately disappeared in the crowd. I stood against a wall on the far side waiting for them to finish so I could take them home. I was getting really bored and looking at my watch every 5 min when a blond and blue eyed lady came up to me and asked me if I wanted to buy her a drink. I felt like having a drink but the bar was too crowded earlier so I told her that I would buy her a drink if she’d go get hers and get me one as well. I gave her a Dhs 100 note, it was all I had.

15 minutes later she returned with my appropriately named White Russian and she also conveniently forgot to give me the change. No matter, I was more than prepared to pay Dhs100 for a drink at that time.

We stood there for a few minutes saying nothing, then all of a sudden she turns around and lunges at me for a kiss on the lips. I play computer games all the time, I have the sharpest of reflexes, I turned my head just in time for the kiss to land on my cheek. Beaurk it was wet and I had to really resist the urge to wipe it off.

Then, I had an idea. A brilliant idea. One of those ideas that only come once in a lifetime. I offered her Dhs1000 if she’d go to my boss, kiss him and offer him a free night of passion. She’d get another 1000 if she was able to make it a threesome with the 10 year old Girlfriend.

Isn’t it amazing what an incentivised woman can accomplish? It took less than 5 min for the three of them to head to the door with my boss giving me the thumbs up. After they went out, the girl came back to collect her extra 1000. I haven’t heard from my boss yet today.

However, I was able to get home and have some sleep earlier than expected. That was well worth my Dhs2000. Besides, I will put them tomorrow on the company expense as “Entertainment”

Money well spent

Herlock Sholmes

Thursday, January 18, 2007



How are you doing today? It’s been a long time since we’ve talked. Well, not really that long but still, it feels like an eternity. What has been happening with you? Wait! Don’t answer that. Let me guess. You are probably doing well, drinking wine and eating vegetables. You are taking 4 pills a day for ailments of various nature and it continues to piss you off every single day. You are swimming, walking, sleeping and resting from morning to evening. You wonder and ponder over the mysteries of life and most importantly you are smiling.

Yesterday you woke up early and started your day with a swim, then you went online to chat with friends and check the rambling of fools like me. You had some coffee in the morning, you should have it with milk but someone reminded you that adding milk does not reduce the quantity of coffee in your coffee so you probably had it black. It was strong coffee.

Later that morning, you brushed your hair and went for a walk. You ended up at the supermarket where you bought some vegetables, wine, cereals, soap and olive oil. Then you remembered that you were out of Pasta and Tuna so you got some as well. You will heat them later. You considered going for Gnocchi but you prefer regular pasta.

When you got home, you threw a quick glance at your PC to see if anything had changed since last time you checked. A new post, a new message, a new mail. Sadly, there was nothing. But, you know that one is coming soon. Because it is about bloody time. Then you checked your phone for an sms. You thought to yourself: “You never know”.

Now, you’re reading this post and laughing. Later, you’ll come back to it, just to read it again. And smile some more. “Crazy Man” you will think to yourself. Then, you will sit on the nearest chair, close your eye and think about it all. You will torture yourself by decorticating everything; trying to make sense from chaos. An hour later, you’d have failed, but you will keep on. Eventually, it will dawn upon you. And, the smile will be back.

In the mean time, you are still reading this post, wondering where this is going. Wondering what comes next. You know this post is for you. Yes, you. Don’t blush, now is not the time for blushing. Keep reading and control that smile.

We met for the briefest of moments. A glimpse really, nothing more. Will we meet again? Since this is my monologue I can create the ending of my chosing. I chose this one:

  • I still have your bottle of wine. I carried it all the way home. Not because it’s good wine (Pretty lousy actually, I was appalled) but because I told you we’d drink it together.
  • 2:0 is not a fair score. Something needs to be done about it
  • Didn’t I tell you to control that smile?
  • I do think that Picasso is/was a genius and I need to make you see that
  • You owe me a trip to Greece
  • I owe you a view of mount Fuji
  • You owe me a phone call
  • I owe you a “Hello”
  • You owe me the right words
  • I owe you a time and place
  • I told you I’d make it hard, I lied
  • I told you I’d be there when you got back, I didn’t lie
  • I think the Marriott is better and you need to agree
  • Pizza and tuna salad is not the best food I could come up with. I can do better
  • Stop blushing please

Now, you’re still reading this post, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. “Crazy, Crazy man” you’re thinking to yourself “what will I do with you”. For the briefest of moment, you wonder what post can come next, but you dismiss this thought knowing that I'll figure it out.

For now, this is still my monologue but if/when you decide that we need to meet again, you will have your own monologue to come up with. I am sure you can figure out what words to use. Until then, I’ll be at the bar.

Haroun El Poussah

Tiny Kahuna, Greece

Regarding the post below, I have received only two job applications through the comments but I have received no less than 18 emails with CVs. Instead of answering all of them individually, I thought I’d answer some here. For those of you who sent me a CV and you don’t appear in this list, one of my slave will be calling you shortly

Apostolos: No, being the lead bouncer in Athens’s hottest night clubs doesn’t qualify you for the job. But, if you can arrange a date for my friend Haroun, I’d consider some alternate form of payment

George: No, Being a southern gentleman from Georgia in the cotton industry does not qualify you to lead my slaves. Mentioning that your grand father had a lot of slave experience was interesting.

Ali: No, being an asshole doesn’t qualify you. I am the only one allowed to be an asshole to my slaves.

John: No, Being in the drug trafficking industry does not qualify you

Andreas: No, Being 69 does not disqualify you. Being unable to spell two words of English certainly does

Kyros: I don’t speak a word of Greek man. A CV in English would help

Maria: That was the funniest CV I ever saw. Next time, please consider adding to it your current employment, age, sex, contact details and education. Sending me 41 lines of prose on yourself does not really work

Susanna: Sending me your CV and asking me to set you up on date with Haroun will not get you in my good graces

Heba: They speak Greek in Greece. I swear!

Ali: Offering me sex was not the best way to get into my good graces. I only sleep with my female slaves. You should take your offer to Haroun, he might be interested.

Dalal: No, Haroun does not visit Greece often.

S&D: No, your set of two wonderful Kahunas does not qualify you for the job. It does, however, qualify you for an interview and close examination of your credentials

N: You may apply to become one of my slaves anytime

Herlock Sholmes

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


I recently got promoted which means that I used to be a Tiny Kahuna in my company and that I am now a Small Kahuna with several Tiny Kahunas reporting to me. As part of the promotion, I get 8 new countries and about 50 more slaves in my team. That brings my total number of slaves to about 200 and change. This morning, I had invited the 8 new Tiny Kahunas to Dubai for a 1 on 1 introductory meeting. Here is what the Greek guy had to say:

Me: “Hello Karimitos Lovemakinos”
Karimitos: “Hello Kherlock”
Me: “Herlock”
Karimitos: “Yes, Kherlock”
Me: “Not Kherlock, Herlock”
Karimitos: “eh, this is what I said, Kherlock”
Me: “Herlock, Herlock H H H”
Karimitos: “Yes, KH KH KH, that’s what I said”
Me: (Hum, I sense a disturbance in the force)
Me: “Ok, never mind, Kherlock it is”
Me: “I see you have been with us 2.5 years already”
Karimitos: “Yes, I need a raise”
Me: “A raise? I see here that you haven’t achieved your quota in the last 9 quarters”
Karimitos: “Exactly!”
Me: “!!??”
Karimitos: “I haven’t achieved quota so I didn’t get commission so I didn’t get paid well, so I need a raise”
Me: “!!??”
Karimitos: “What’s wrong Kherlock”
Me: “Herlock”
Karimitos: “Whatever”
Me: (Did that Slave just Whatever me?)
Me: “Usually we give raises to people who achieve quota, as a reward”
Karimitos: “No, that’s what commission is for. I worked hard so I need a raise. I haven’t received full salary since I joined”
Me: “Because you having been delivering results”
Karimitos: “Exactly and I have been punished for that, you took away my commission!”
Me: “I didn’t take anything away, I hardly know you”
Karimitos: “You, You, the Kahunas”
Me: (Ah, yes, I am part of those now… )
Me: “So… you want me to go to my boss and tell him you need a raise because you haven’t delivered on your targets. Is that correct?”
Karimitos: “Yes, Absolutely”
Me: “And if you had delivered you wouldn’t want a raise?”
Karimitos: “Well, that depends how hard I work to deliver”
Me: “Hum…”

I am now taking applications for the position of Tiny Kahuna in Greece. Requirements are simple

1. Being able to pronounce my name
2. As a tiny Kahuna you will have your own slaves. About 15 of them. Treat them well. They need to get, at least, one afternoon off a week
3. You should make your targets so I look good in front of Medium Kahuna, my Boss
4. You should realize that as a Tiny Kahuna you are my slave. You get Wednesday afternoon off starting at 4pm
5. You should be an Italy supporter in Euro 2008
6. You should make sure your slaves support Italy as well

That’s it really. Please leave your application in the comment sections and someone will get back to you.

Herlock Sholmes

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Herlock Sholmes

By popular demand, I have tracked down the legendary Herlock Sholmes and asked him to become a contributor to this blog.

Some of you already know Herlock, for those who don't I will let him introduce himself.

We will each sign our posts separately

Haroun El Poussah
So, I had a 7 hours flight back from France to Dubai. During that wonderful time I am sitting next to a very nice lady. We chat for 7 hours straight and, in a typical Herlock fashion, I forget to ask for her phone number. Duh!! I should have my brain examined!

There are two types of men in this world, the Women-challenged and the Women-enabled. Being in the first category really sucks. So, this morning I went to Google to try to sort my problem out. I decided to look for Dating classes in the country. I figured that a little formal education would not hurt.

To my complete surprise, I discovered that there are no dating lessons available in Dubai. Amazing, isn’t it?

So, I decided that it was a great business opportunity and I am opening a dating school. No, no, relax, I am not the one going to be giving the classes. I will only be a guest speaker. You know, the one they bring in to inspire the class. I will be the one putting the curriculum together.

How many of you are interested in classes? It’s Dhs 1000 for a 5 day course

Over the next few days, I will share the curriculum with you

Haroun El Poussah

Monday, January 15, 2007

Encounter of the second kind

The room was dark. It was hard to see. I stood at the entrance looking around for her. In a small far corner of the restaurant, there she was. Beautiful as I had imagined her. A smile that lights up the room, eyes that stare into your soul, hands that move with her words like a Maestro conducting a Mozart symphony. I observed her from a distance for the longest of times. I just sat there, reading into her soul from afar. Day after day, I would come into the restaurant and she would be sitting at the same table and day after day I would sit at a distance, observing her.

Then one day, I slipped a note with the waiter. It was a simple note. All it said was: “Bar”. She took it, read it and her gaze went to the bar. Our eyes met. She smiled. I smiled. And, for what seemed an eternity, every day I would enter the restaurant, sit at the bar and our eyes would meet and she would expose part of her soul to me.

Day after day, we grew closer. Having never spoken, never touched, never smiled, but we grew closer for we had seen into each other’s soul.

She was sitting at the table with her Beau. A Handsome man, charming, made her laugh and feel safe. But every day, she would stare into my eyes. That went on for quite some time.

One day, towards the end of the evening, the Beau stood to go to the bathroom. His chair was empty. I considered it for a moment. The briefest of moments. Should I? Would I? I left the bar and started walking slowly towards that empty seat. With every step, I would look into her eyes for encouragement, for approval. She knew it and she, for the first time, smiled at me as I sat on that chair. I had never heard her voice and for a moment, we stood there in silence looking at each other, making sure that the first word would be the right one. There might only be time for one word before the Beau came back. I had to choose carefully, I knew she would let me have that first word.

I gazed into her eyes, wondering which one to use, it was a long, piercing gaze and suddenly I knew. I knew that there was only one word… “Hello”

She smiled. She knew it was the perfect one. Simple, yet the smile that accompanied it, said it all. “Hello” she said back.

I had so many other things to tell her, so many questions to ask her, so many emotions to share. Yet, before I had a chance to bare my soul, I noticed her Beau waiting for her by the restaurant door.

“I have to go”, she said. “Yes, I know” I replied. I wanted to hold her, to beg her to stay, to make her see how much I wanted her to stay. Yet, I knew that she had to go. She had come to the restaurant with him; she had to leave with him. That was the proper thing to do.

I had so much more to say. If only I had more time, if only I had a few more minutes, if only I could extend my hand and touch her heart, she’d see that she didn’t really have to go. She’d see that what she wanted was right there, on that seat. But, all I had was “Hello” and the smile that accompanied it.

I will be at the bar tomorrow, the day after and the day after that. If she cares, she’ll come back, alone. I will be waiting…

Haroun El Poussah

Sunday, January 14, 2007


What is intimacy?

Some would argue it’s a touch, a meeting of the bodies. Some would argue it’s a meeting of the mind. Some, smarter, would argue that it is both. They would argue that there is no intimacy unless both minds and bodies merge.

The wise however, will tell you that intimacy is not about concepts of body or minds; they will argue that intimacy is a state of being. Descartes once theorized that Intimacy is the disappearance of individuality in favor of duality. What a load of shit. These famous philosophers are really overpaid for the stupidities the blabber all day long.

Let me tell you, for free, what intimacy is.

Intimacy is when you don’t have to pretend, when you don’t have to play, when you don’t have to touch, when you don’t have to think, when you don’t have to talk when you don’t have to dream.

Intimacy is closeness, silence, darkness, light. It is also Friendship and sex and smiles and tears and laughs.

Intimacy is hard, it raises something beyond expectations, it is a sine qua non condition for happiness that can only be achieved if there is nothing more that is wanted or needed.

Hum, that did not really come out the way I wanted. Those philosophers have no idea what they are talking about but they sure can use pretty words.

Let me take another crack at that…

Intimacy is the transformation of expectation, urges, desires, thoughts and laughs into a well synchronized chorus of emotions.

Yep, that sounds like the Mumbo Jumbo that philosophers would say… Haroun, on the other hand, would just say that Intimacy is the first step on the road to Love

Haroun El Poussah