Thursday, November 30, 2006

This guy...

There is a certain guy who posts comments on literally every blog I go to, including mine. I am debating whether or not to give you his name but while I think about it, let me tell you what I think about him.

This guy, has nothing positive to say. Most of the time he is bordering on insulting. He roams the blogosphere looking for nasty things to say to every blogger out there. Nothing is ever good enough. He never agrees with anything said and spends his time making semi sarcastic, semi insulting comments

This guy is also an idiot. Yes, he manages to come up with the stupidest comments on every blog. Without exception. If you take any random blog out there and look at the comment section, I guarantee that his comment will be the stupidest one out there

This guy is unbelievably arrogant. He always thinks that he knows better than the writer. On every topic. Regardless of the subject being discussed. Be it sex, politics, sports or economics, this guy thinks he is the world’s foremost expert on each

This guy is very religious. He is so religious that he takes upon himself to explain to everyone out there how they are destined to rot in hell for the rest of eternity. He cites some obscure passage from various religious books to support his claims of damnation. 9 times out of 10, it turns out he has no clue what he is talking about. But, no matter, he continues to dispense religious advice to the unsuspecting blogger

This guy is a pain in the ass. No matter how much you tell him to stay away from your blog, he keeps coming back with his stupid comments

Ok, I have decided to give you his name, but you probably already figured it out by now:


Haroun El Poussah

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Tales of Tiramisu, Grappa and Money

Mario, the head chef at my favorite Italian restaurant, is a personal friend of mine. We go bowling together every Friday and we go overdrinking together on most Saturdays. We have known each other for well over 8 years. So, when Mario called me a couple of days ago to tell me that he met a girl he thought would be perfect for me, I got all excited. Then, when he offered to have a first meeting at his restaurant and for him to cook us “Something Special”, I knew that he was really excited too.

I arrived at the restaurant last night at 8:55, 5 minutes before the 9 o’clock appointment with butterfly in my stomach. I know Mario quite well and he would not have offered to cook us something special unless the girl was something special of her own. I was so excited that I even made a wardrobe effort and wore my best suit (Ok, I confess, Hugo Boss – The only thing I indulge in on the wardrobe side is expensive suits.). I sat with Mario who told me that he even made his world famous Tiramisu tonight. This was definitely going to be a good night

At 9:00 Sharp (wow) she walked into the restaurant. It was difficult not to notice her. She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Since everyone’s definition of gorgeous is different, I will not describe her. Words would fail me anyway. Just make up your own mental image, then add to it a beautiful, long black dress, matching black shoes and an exquisite little LV bag. She had a beautiful smile on her face and walked briskly to our table with her hand extended, shook my numb hand then turned to Mario and deposited two wonderfully sensual kisses on his cheeks.

She spoke English with a definitive Italian accent, she was gesturing with her hands in this most Italian of ways, she was laughing, she was smiling, she was nice. On top of that, she was also smart, cultured and I am sure by now you can tell that I was deeply taken by her. In fact all I was doing was hoping that I would not make an idiot of myself by dropping some pasta sauce on my suit or twist my tongue when tying to speak, or, in general, make a fool of myself

The evening went quite well. I dare say. I dazzled her with my natural wit, intelligence, culture, charm, sharpness, humor, charisma, appeal, personality, magnetism, allure and self confidence. It was all working like clock work. She was laughing at all my jokes, nodding at all the intelligent points I was making, smiling understandably at all my problems… heaven I tell you; Heaven. I was already thinking about making Mario my honorary brother and including him as the sole beneficiary in my last will and testament.

As the Tiramisu was consumed and as the last drops of Grappa were squeezed out of the bottle and as the evening was coming to a close, she most naturally asked me if I wanted to come over to her place to have a few more drops of a yet un-named nectar that would insure that we would be inhibited enough to fall into each other’s arms and spend the night in passion. OK, OK, she just asked me if I wanted to have a coffee.

Of course, I accepted. We got into her car (Only one car! Always a good sign). We got to her place. We forgot about coffee…

In the morning, I woke up late for work and as I was rushing to get showered and dressed, she asked me to tell Mario that next time it would be the regular rate…

Haroun El Poussah

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The Value of Brands

She was wearing:

YSL Dress $5000
Prada bag $1000
Tiffany necklace $1500
Todts Shoes $1000
Rolex watch $16,300
Undetermined but nice bracelet $500

I was wearing:

No Brand Shirt $100
Clarks shoes $120
Levis jeans $200
Swatch $56
CK Underwear $25
Nike sox $7

The look of disappointment on her face: Priceless

Haroun El Poussah

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

12 Monkeys

These are my 12 dating monkeys

1. The Clothes: Knowing what to wear and how to wear it is always a problem. White sox? Suit? Shirt? T Shirt? Polo? Slippers? Underwear? No underwear?

2. The Venue: Always a biggie. Too upscale and she’ll think you’re a snob. McDonald’s and she think you are cheap. With alcohol? Without alcohol? Indian Food? Arabic Food?

3. The Conversation: Can I mix English into my Arabic? Arabic into my English? French? Are there taboo topics? Religion? Sex? Marriage?

4. The Ordering: Hum… I was born hungry! (When I came out of my mother’s womb, crying of hunger was the absolute first thing I did. Been that way even since. It has all to do with the fact that doctors interrupted my dinner and forced me out) So, how much to order? Do I pig out and damn the consequences? Is she nice enough for me to be decent?

5. The Drinking: I drink like a Irishman in love with a Scotswoman. Is this acceptable on dates? Is she a Scott?

6. The Knife and fork: I like to eat with my hands. I am more in control this way and can put more of it in my mouth at once. Some ladies get offended.

7. The Bill: Do I ask for it? Do I wait until she asks for it? Obviously if it is going bad, I’ll make a move. But, what if I like the girl? Too long and I risks her finding out how truly boring I am. Too quick and she leaves before she is hooked

8. The Payment: Who should pay? Me on a good date, her on a bad one? Dutch if she’s Scottish?

9. The Valet Parking: I usually like to wait for her to get into her car. Not because I am polite but because it allows me to go back in and take the doggy bag in which my favorite waiter tucked all the leftovers. What if I get hungry during the night?

10. The Sms: Do I sms her that night to thank her for the evening? Tough one. On one hand she could get a superiority complex and become un-handlable. On the other hand, it’s the easiest way to be smsed back with an invitation for a night cap

11. The Good Night kiss: Ahhh, that damn good night kiss. In my younger years, I used to be so clumsy that I could, sometimes, miss the entire cheek and land, by mistake, on the lips. These days, this is no longer possible as woman tend to react negatively to such innocent mistakes. So, cheek? Lips? Neck? Babylons? And if Lips, with hands, no hands? Doh, life is so complicated these days.

12. The Morning after: If it’s her place, get the hell out of there asap! Work, jogging, pregnant wife are all valid excuses. Never take a woman at home on the irst date, they tend to stick around and overstay their welcome. Even I know that. But when I wake up at home, alone, do I send her a good morning sms? Or not? I always screw this one up with an sms about my morning erection and a reference to wet dreams of her. It never goes down well

Haroun El Poussah

Friday, November 17, 2006

Turkish Delights

Locked lips on a Tuesday night developing into wondering hands on Wednesday’s early morning can easily turn into locked bodies on Wednesday morning and into immeasurable pleasure by Wednesday noon.

Wouldn’t that be the ideal scenario for a Tuesday evening date? Except of course that I work on Wednesday morning and need to get the whole thing done and dusted by 7am. Still there could be worse outcomes for a date that started with undercooked meat in an expensive Turkish restaurant

Haroun El Poussah

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Thursday night

The day started well, I had a gala dinner to go to and a date to accompany me. I also managed to wiggle my way out of the dinner and re-arrange the date for a nice Italian restaurant in town.

From there, it all started to go wrong. You see, this is the concept of Murphy’s law. As soon as you get excited about something, circumstances conspire to make it all go as wrong as it can go.

Trouble started at around 9am as I was having breakfast with my boss and started to have stomach cramps accompanied with blinding headache. I started frequent trips to the bathroom vomited a couple of times. “Great”, I thought to myself, “great start to the day”

Because of that, I started running late on my schedule and I soon realized that I would not have time to go home and change before dinner. Disaster! It was the first time I met the lady and I was wearing my outdoor clothes since I had organized a brainstorming session on the beach that morning for my team. Obviously, Murphy intervened one more time and made that day the hottest and most humid one yet in November. This means that I was sweating like a pig all day.

Can it get any worse? You betcha it can!

As the day progressed my headache and stomach cramps were getting worse and worse. By 2pm I was on my 11th Panadol of the day and was starting to feel really tired. My date was at 8:30 and I was so much behind on my schedule that I was starting to wonder of I would make it. This is when the guys decided to order lunch in. “Great” I thought, an opportunity to catch up. As we are all gathered about the conference table munching on Chillies delivery, my secretary comes to talk to me about an important phone call and in my haste to get to the office, I drop a good portion on Guacamole on my Jeans! Can it get any worse?

At that point, I was considering calling my date and asking her if we could arrange for an underwear date. Because my jeans were in no condition to accompany me on a date. However, my secretary reminded me that the Italian restaurant I had selected did not allow underwear dinning. (Can you imagine the arrogance?). She also mentioned that some salt and soda could help. “Great”, I thought, “Salty pants” will be my new nickname from there on

At that point in the day (Around 4pm), I was utterly exhausted. I mean, really exhausted to the point that I was thinking of having a nap in my office. Of course, as soon as I decided to do this, 200 new things came up for me to do

At 7pm, 90 minutes before my date, I was running really behind on the schedule for the day. I had stomach cramps, had used 14 Panadols and had a blinding headache and was about to go eat with a woman I had never met but was quite excited to get to know

Can it get any worse? You betcha it can!

At 7:11pm precisely, my secretary comes into my office and notices that one of my shirt buttons has fallen! Fuck this Murphy guy. Fortunately for me, she is an expert at these things and proceeds to fix the problem. More delays on my schedule. At that point, I am simply exhausted.

So, to summarize, it takes about 1 hour from my office to the restaurant, it’s 7:30, I am about to leave, my jeans is stained (huge), I have stomach cramps, a blinding headache, 19 panadols, a missing button on my shirt, I am dressed beyond casual and had no time to change, I smell like a pig and I am on my way to a date that I was really, really looking forward to.

As I reached the hotel, I noticed that no-one would get next to me because of the smell. I quickly stop at the hotel gift shop for some Cologne but can’t find any. I buy deodorant and After shave instead. Just when you think it can’t get worse, it turns out the deodorant is the type that makes a HUGE humid stain under the arm pit. Now it looks like I just ran a marathon and am still sweating like a pig. The good news it that I now smell like a mixture of cheap aftershave and even cheaper deodorant instead of sweat!

Now, Murphy’s law would tell me that, in order for the evening to be complete, it would have to be that the lady I am about to meet, turns out to be hideous, mentally retarded and simply un-datable. Even worse than Death By Boredom date.

I arrived at the restaurant with a minute to spare. I like to be on time. Of course, Mr. Murphy intervenes and She calls to say that she would be late. Traffic. At that point, I am now struggling to keep my eyes open. I am so tired, that the room is spinning. To add to my state of mind, at that point, I was starting to imagine that the only natural conclusion to such a day would be that my date turns out to be my Ex in real life. You know, like the “Do you like Pina Colada and Champagne song”. Anyhow, I was too tied to care.

At 9:03pm, my phone rings, she is here, I slowly stand up and look around and….

There she is. And, it’s not my ex. In fact she is quite different than my ex. She looks different, she dresses different and she walks different. Even in my tired, dazed state, I could tell it was not my ex. I said hello and we proceed to head to the table. She thought I let her walk in front out of politeness but I was just worried that she would notice the huge stain on my jeans. Adrenaline was kicking in at that point and I was quickly recovering. Did I mention that the stain was in a strategic location on my jeans? I wouldn’t have wanted her to think I had an orgasm just from seeing her. Or worse, that I peed myself

I sat, making sure she would not notice the missing button (I am not sure if she did or not) and proceeded to talk to her.

This is where the big surprise came. Murphy had apparently called it a day. Because, not only was this girl cute, she was also smart. A lot smarter than me at least (I am just being modest). She had a nice sense of humor. Told me 7 times during dinner that what I was saying was rubbish and completely wrong (I am not sure if men usually find this insulting, but I found it amusing). As she was talking to me about this or that, I was looking at her with a smile on my face. She thought I was making fun at her and laughing at her, but in fact, I was wondering what such a smart woman was doing there, sitting across the table from me. While that conversation was going on, my dating advisor, Noora from Sex And Dubai, kept calling and pestering me for information. Of course I ignored her, not wanting to interrupt the interesting conversation I was having. And, frankly, afraid that my date would use any pause in the conversation as an excuse to ask for the check and end the evening.

Eventually, all good things must come to an end and we asked for the check. As we were walking out the restaurant I walked in front for a split second to open a door and I am quite sure she noticed the stain, the missing button and so many other things.

As she was getting into her car, I had a smile on my face for I knew that I had just met a wonderful lady. “Too bad”, I thought to myself, “That I am not her type”.

She drove off into the Dubai night and I am quite sure that she will not give me a second chance to use the brand new jeans that I will have to buy. But, that’s okay, win some, lose some, the important thing is to have enjoyed it. And that, I did

Haroun El Poussah

Friday, November 10, 2006

I disagree

It has been argued to me that Globalization is just another form of Colonization and that it stifles individualism and kills the heritage and cultures around the world. It has been argued that Globalization is to be resisted at all cost.

I feel that while Colonization was a mandatory consequence of a military conflict while Globalization is the result of the overwhelming success of a way of life. These are fundamental differences that, on the long run, will lead to the inevitable dominance of globalization.

Globalization, is, in my opinion, a good thing. While I agree that cultures will disappear and centuries old heritage will be wipe out as a result, I also believe that Globalization will eradicate some of the world’s most controversial issues such as racism, wars, religions, poverty, access to medicine, etc. As the world becomes of one mind, differences between people will cease to be measured along the lines of race, religion or nationality. The world will be divided between the haves and the have-nots. And, while like everywhere else, there will be tension between these two groups, they will, at least, understand each other.

Globalization is the unquestionable conclusion to capitalism. We cannot escape it. It will have some sad consequences but it’s inevitability compels us to accept it or be wiped aside by it.

The only question I have is whether I will be given a second chance to make my case

Haroun El Poussah

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Death by boredom

Me: Hi, how are you
She: Good
Me: How was your day?
She: Good
Me: Busy day?
She: Yes
Me: Is this a new hair style?
She: Yes
Me: So, what are you going to order?
She: Shrimps
Me: The Szechuan is very good here
She Shrimps
Me: I love this place, have you been here before?
She: No
Me: I like it, it’s big, open and the service is great
She: Yes
Me: So, what do you do in Dubai when not working?
She: Rest
Me: And? What else
She: Nothing
Me: And on week ends?
She: Nothing
Me: Come on you can’t do nothing, do you watch television, go to the movies, the beach?
She: Yes
Me: What are your hobbies
She: Hot air balloons
Me: Wow, that’s interesting, you do it regularly?
She: No
Me: Are you member of a club?
She: no
Me: Do you need a certification to fly in one?
She: Yes
Me: Do you have one?
She: Yes
Me: From the UAE?
She: No
Me: ….

Haroun El Poussah

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Modern Dating Techniques

As you may know, I now have a new team of advisors for my Dating Adventures in Dubai. Yes, Noora and Layala have agreed to provide me with the tips and tricks required to find a perfect date in Dubai.

Yesterday, while I was having dinner with my friends and the girl they wanted to introduce me to, Layala called me to start our relationship. Obviously I could not take the call so she proceeded to give me all the tips by sms

"make her laugh"
"appear interested"
"sit up straight"
"don't scratch yourself in front of her"
"treat her nicely"

The tips were endless and to the point. I immediately stopped scratching my private parts in front of my date and proceeded to do so under the table away from view. It seems that my underwear had shrank in the washing machine and was really giving me an itch. This is what happens when your ex was responsible for the washing machine and you have no idea how to operate one. Anyhow, I am digressing

During the course of the evening Layala and I were SMS'ing back and forth with reports and tips. Of course this was all new and exciting to me so I seemed to have forgotten my manners, until Noora butted in with an SMS telling me it was rude to be texting on a date and that I should channel my efforts into my date instead! Technology has advanced since the last time I dated, so I never had to worry about these things back then!

After the date (I got the girl's phone number and we have a follow up tonight), I called Layala back. I am not allowed to tell you much about Layala herself. I am not allowed to tell you if she has a sexy voice (she does) or where she is from. However, I can tell you that I got very good advice from her:

"be a man"
"When you want to dump a girl, call her and tell her"
"Don't disappear"
"Be polite"
"Open the doors once in a while"
"Be a man"
"Unless you are totally hideous you should be able to get a date"
"Ooops, are you to totally hideous?"

And the list goes on. I have a set of very engaged advisors who are looking after my best interest. Now, all I need is a successful second date tonight and I am all set for my dinner tomorrow. Wish me luck

Haroun El Poussah

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Margaret Thatcher Called

Yesterday, my Ex called!

After 2 months without so much as a whisper, it seems that she now broke up with her boyfriend, read the blog and proposed to join me at the Thursday dinner.

I told her that I would rather go with a Pregnant, emasculated cockroach than with her. I am not sure she took it in the spirit with which it was said because she burst out laughing. I intended to be rude, obnoxious, detestable, vile, revolting and truthful. She thought I was joking. You’d think that after 6 years together she would know better

Anyhow, when she understood that I was quite serious, she proceeded to recommend a friend of hers that we both know is indeed a Pregnant, emasculated cockroach. She said we would be perfect there together.

It goes to show that you can be with a woman for 6 years and not know the first thing about her. Or maybe, it goes to show that, over 6 years I was so mean to her that I transformed her into the woman she is today. Who know?

That, however, does not solve my Thursday night dilemma.

Tonight a couple that I know have invited me to dinner and are bringing a lady that they know and think would be perfect for me (and me for her I hope). I have been friends with these people for quite a while and they know me very well. I trust their judgment and am looking forward to meeting that girl. I will try to be my usual charming self…

One thing I don’t do in early dates is open the car door, pull chairs at restaurants, walk her to the door (unless I want a kiss) or be overly polite. I always think that the worse thing you can do is set a standard early on that you are not prepared to carry on for ever. It creates disappointment and gives the girl the feeling that early on it was all an act to impress her. I prefer to be my usual inconsiderate self from the beginning, this way I avoid disappointment and the woman knows exactly what she is getting herself into. My old advisors used to tell me that this is bullshit and that I should lie my teeth out in the beginning, get her interested, get her in bed and then drop the act when she can’t move away. I wonder what my new team of advisors thinks about that…

Haroun El Poussah

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Escort Girl

Wow, two posts today! This is what happens when you are sitting at work in a state of BBB (Boredom Beyond Belief)…

Escort girls. I have been asked whether I would consider escort girls. I had mentioned before that I had never paid for sex and the question came about using an Escort girl for my Dinner on Thursday.

Interesting suggestion. I am thinking as I write here. The thought had never crossed my mind. Let’s see.

The Pros

1. I can select the girl myself
2. She will smile no matter what stupid thing I say
3. She will be on time
4. She will not expect a kiss in front of everyone just because the Girlfriend of that other guy there is being kissed
5. She will not want to hold hands in front of my boss and his boss
6. She will let me lead
7. She will not require constant attention
8. She will do as she is told (A big plus)

The Cons

1. It is an admission of failure on my part
2. It is expensive
3. If she is expensive, several former clients might be there

Well, looks like the Pros outnumber the Cons 3 to 1. I think, though, the problem I would have with it is that an escort girl, by definition, would not meet my standards. While I must admit I neither know, nor have met an escort girl before and I could be generalizing, I find it difficult to believe that I will find one that I would be comfortable being with at that dinner.

You see, when going to such an event with a lady, I must be able to feel that she is an extension of myself. That we walk as one, think as one, talk as one. Could this be achieved with an escort girl whom I have hired for the night?

Well, I do rent cars sometimes, my villa is rented, my furniture is rented, etc, why not rent my date? Is it cruel to compare the lady to a car? Not really, I don’t think so, after all, she selected to be part of that comparison. She selected to provide a service so why should I not compare it to any other service?

However, in conclusion, I don’t think I will got that route, the admission of failure and sense of loss would be too great. If I started there, there would be no reason not to upgrade to the next logical step… sex

Haroun El Poussah

You're Fired!

So, after reading Sex-And-Dubai’s comment on the post below about Long’s bar, I decided to do some investigations and I went to the Buddha Bar (I had never been there before). Upon entering the place, I could tell immediately that she was correct in suggesting it. The people there were much more to my liking and “my style” than at Long’s. No comparison.

Having seen that, I immediately called my team of advisors and, in the purest Apprentice tradition, I fired them all.

Now, I find myself alone in my quest, until I noticed that Sex-And-Dubai has suggested I hire them as the new team. So, if this offer was a genuine one, my answer is: Name you price, you’re hired!

Haroun El Poussah

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Failure to Launch

After considerable debate with my “team”, I decided to ignore their advise and to go with the simple jeans/shirt look. After all, this is who I am and I didn’t want to portray myself as something I am not.

So, my mission was to find a date for my Thursday night dinner. I arrived at the Long’s bar and joined my group of friend and we proceeded to rank all the women in the bar on a scale from 1 to 10. We unanimously decided that I would not “make a move” on anyone below a 7.

Out of the 17 woman in the bar only 5 qualified for an approach. I selected the one with the most beautiful smile (an 8 on the overall scale) and proceeded to debate with the “team” what would the next step be. She seemed to be with a group of girls and she seemed to be un-accompanied. I got several suggestions as to how to proceed.

Find out what she was drinking and send her a refill
Keep staring at her until she notices then smile
Bump into her by “accident” and apologies

I, myself, was leaning towards one of two approaches. Either walk up to her and introduce myself or wait until one of her companions goes to the bar and ask for some help.

After considerable debate with the group, I decided to just walk up to her and introduce myself.

“Good evening, my name is Haroun”, I said with my most beautiful smile. “So What?”, she replied. Well, she instantly went from a 8 to a 2 on my scale and I retreated to my corner, trying to find a mouse hole to crawl into and hide.

My friends and I proceed to evaluate the rest of the room and we settled on a 9 that was obviously alone and seemed to have a killer body. This time I decided to follow my team’s advice and I sent her a refill for the Black Russian she was drinking. She looked at me, smiled, lifted her glass and gestured me to come over. I walked over to her, introduced myself and she replied: “2000 Dirham for the night”. For those of you living in the real world, that’s about $600.

I promptly retreated to my corner, battered, shattered and wondering if this would ever work. My friend and I were desperate at this point. There was only one woman above a 7 left in the room and she was obviously with someone. I was starting to think that finding a date for my dinner on Thursday would be much more difficult than I originally thought.

I decided to leave that dreadful place and go home. On my way, I stopped at Zaatar we Zeit to get something to eat to counteract that effect off all the alcohol I had had this night. As I was waiting in line for my Manaish, I notice a definite 10 behind me in the line. WOW, was she beautiful. She was definitely French, blonde (Which I like), brown eyes (ok with me) and tall (good for me as well). I stood there in the queue agonizing as to how to start a conversation. I knew most men would offer to pay for her Manaish, but the kind of girl I was looking for would definitely refuse and think of me as cheap. I didn’t know if she was the type of girl I was looking for, but I still had to find another way. I turned around and….

Her husband was standing next to her

Haroun El Poussah

Friday, November 03, 2006

Mission Impossible

Next Thursday I have a dinner to go to. A dinner that requires me to have a date! And, if this wasn’t a big enough challenge, I am required to have a date that is both good looking and smart. So, from tonight until Thursday, I will be on an impossible mission: To find myself a decent date for the dinner.

Knowing that I was not armed with the proper weapons for this mission, I called in reinforcements in the form of a “player” friend of mine and started to ask him for some pointers and ammunition for my mission.

First on my list was the pick up line. Times have changed since I last had to use one and I was not sure that “Would you like to boogie” was still in vogue. My friend being a true ladies’ man (As sex-in-Dubai puts it in the comments “An asshole”), I thought he might have some much needed advice to give me. He came up with some gems that I thought would be worth mentioning here as he explains to me that they are the trend of the day.

I have a BMW would you like to go for a ride?
What time is it? I left my Rolex at home
Can I buy you a drink or would you like a slip?

It seems to me that the emphasis has shifted from what it was in my time (Showing how interesting you are) to showing how big your bank account it. While I would be classified by most a fairly well off in that department, I feel that there must be something much more substantive in the pick up line that I shall be using. After talking to several other “experts” and getting lines totally consistent with those above, it seems that I will have to rely on myself to find the right one. Of course, if the readers of this blog would like to contribute some ideas, they would be very much appreciated.

After the pick up line, it was time for me to seek some wardrobe help. You see, I am strictly and jeans/T Shirt and formal suit man. Meaning that I either go for the very simple jeans, sneakers and T shirt combination, or the formal suit and tie. I do not own anything in between as I never had a need for it. I have been told that this will not do and some friends have scheduled trip to Ralph Laurent and some other stores to replenish my stock and revive my wardrobe. Apparently, it is an integral part of the process. Sounds stupid to me, but I am willing to follow the advice of experts.

So, tonight I will be on supervised leash and let loose on the women in one of Dubai’s most popular clubs. My friends will be around, supervising my performance and giving me pointers. From my side, I don’t know why I don’t just pick up the phone and call the list of woman I know and ask them for a favor. But, I guess this way will be more fun.

I shall, of course, report back regularly on the progress of my efforts.

Haroun El Poussah

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Hows & Whys

I have been lambasted in the comments of my last post for not accepting “offered pussy” and for not taking advantage of quick, guilt free sex.

I thought, since these are chronicles of my Dubai Dating Adventures, that I should clarify this point. If only to avoid such comments in the future.

Guilt free sex is available all the time. If I wanted to have some, all I would have to do is spend a couple of hours in one of Dubai’s night clubs and I would surely be able to go home with company at my side; Company willing to engage in guilt free, kinky sex all night till the birds fall.

The reasons I don’t go for that are numerous and complex.

First, I find it difficult to jump in the sack with mentally retarded girls. They bore me to death and no amount of foreplay and/or sex can stop me from dreading the “conversation after”. Indeed there is nothing I hate more in the world than having to lay next to a naked woman and think to my self that she is so dumb that I have nothing to say to her

Second, I don’t find such women attractive at all. Although the physical attributes are as important to me as they are to anyone else, it is the mental attributes that I find really exciting in a girl. If she can challenge my mind and keep me interested, I will be physically interested as well. Otherwise, I might as well pay for it; I will probably get better quality of sex (If I pay high enough)

Third, I love the chase. I love the time it takes for me to convince myself and my date that we should explore the satin sheets together. I love the mental duel that comes with the slow or fast progression of a casual encounter, into a date, into interest and finally into a physical relationship. While, like anybody else, I dread failure, I relish success too much to settle for some broad that offers it on a plate without any type of qualification. Also, in the same way that she passed my “examination”, I like to think that I passed hers and that her acceptance bar was set very high. When obviously it is not, I lose interest

Fourth, like many male specimens of our species, I like the “conqueror’ feeling. I like to feel that I worked hard for a woman’s heart and that she is in bed with me because I conquered it. If she just walks up to me and offers me her pussy, I will want her heart and mind too. And, in the case of Reema, her mind was too small for a conqueror, it was barely large enough for a worm to crawl through.

Fifth, it is also about respecting the girls that came before. See, each girl that came before was special in some way. If I lower my standards to sleeping with Reema; I, by inference, aM insulting every girl that came before. I associate and compare each one of them to Reema. This, to me, is not acceptable

Sixth and last, it is about respecting myself. I truly believe that at the moment of orgasm, I share something with my partner. Be it a spiritual connection, bodily fluids, body parts or simply nails in the flesh, there is something that is shared. I am very particular about whom I share bodily fluids or anything else with

This will probably make no sense to anyone out there and I am expecting that I will get many comments explaining to me how stupid I am. Fair enough, that is your way, this one is mine. I reserve the right, throughout these chronicles, to stick my dick in pussies of my choice.

Haroun El Poussah