Who is Haroun El Poussah?

I have been accused of being a woman, of being Herlock Sholmes, of sucking and so many different things that I thought it was time I revealed part of who Haroun El Poussah actually is

According to wikipedia: Haroun El Poussah is a middle-aged, obese man whose main characteristic is his extreme placidity. He can be seen as the embodiment of a benevolent and benign ruler: he has never been shown to have even the slightest conflict with any of his subjects. Because of this, he is extremely popular and loved among his people. In fact, all Haroun El Poussah cares about is eating, sleeping and having lazy fun. He spends most of his time asleep, waking only when it's time to eat. Haroun El Poussah has three brothers: Deuroun El Poussah, Troiroun El Poussah and Quatroun El Poussah.

In the spirit of fairness, here are 20 true things that you didn’t know about Haroun El Poussah and really don’t care about

1. Haroun tripped and broke his leg 7 times
2. Haroun Graduated last of his class
3. Haroun speaks 5 languages
4. The most expensive thing Haroun owns outright is his watch.
5. Haroun reads, at least, 2 books every week
6. Haroun Owns 157 ties
7. Haroun caused 11 car accidents
8. Haroun has 5 fingers in each hand
9. Haroun fell in love twice and out of love 3 times
10. Haroun can Tango
11. Haroun dances like a pregnant elephant
12. Haroun is a dedicated Poker Player
13. Haroun used to own a piano but can’t play it
14. Haroun is an expert on Persian rugs
15. Haroun’s favorite drink is beer
16. Haroun is technologically challenged
17. Haroun has been to 49 countries
18. Haroun has never read Harry Potter
19. Haroun is crazy, absolutely crazy about MMORPG
20. Haroun Hates lists like this one

Well, that’s it. You guys know it all now…

Haroun El Poussah

100 years ago

100 Years ago tomorrow is the anniversary of my first date ever!

It was my first semester at University, the school at had come from was not into this whole concept of dating. There were parties and people “hooked up”. That first semester at university, I was still frequenting my school parties.

There was also this girl in a few of my classes, she was much like me. She sat in the back and rarely listened, she was of mixed origins, she was the first to arrive at all the fun events and the last to leave and she wouldn’t be caught dead on a dance floor. On top of all that she was also smart and gorgeous looking.

December 30th of that year she walked up to me and said: “Would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow for New Year’s eve?”. At the time, I had no idea why anyone would want to waste New Year’s eve over food. I mean alcohol was the main thing at the time. But, I like the girl, so I agreed and, anyway, she invited me to a restaurant close to where I was intending on partying.

So, being a date newbie and since I didn’t own anything except T-Shirts, Jeans and Tennis shoes, this is how I showed up. When I saw that she had done the same, I was elated. Finally a woman that understood me!! Here’s how the date went…

I arrived 15 minutes late. What can I tell you? Traffic was a bitch. Except I didn’t own a car and the subway was a nightmare. I dropped pasta sauce on my T shirt. I had a few too many wine glasses and she asked for my hand in marriage!!

Yes, yes. At the end of dinner she said: “Look, you and I are very much the same. I will never find someone so close to me and the same goes for you. I suggest we date for the rest of our university time and get married on graduation day. What do you think?

I remember this as if it were yesterday. I remained calm, composed, looked her straight in the eyes and said: “If I agree, do we have sex tonight?”

Haroun El Poussah

I suck

Dear Haroun,

Please be informed that you suck. You think that your stories are funny but they suck. I read all your posts and I didn’t like any one of them. I think you like being tortured by those women. I think that you suck. Then you do this post with Latin in the title and some idiot make a comment and you kill him. You suck. You suck bad. Please stop this sucking blog. You are wasting our time.

Who cares about Noora and Layala? They suck as much as you suck. Having you even read their blog? I think you should stop making fun of people. You suck. Who is this girl that smsed you 200 times? You expect us to believe this shit? You suck

Please do us all a favor and die. Don’t keep waiting our time with this stupid blog. You suck

Anonymous sender

Sadness

She was waiting for me at the Bar. She was dressed in a long, black satin dress that covered most of her body and defined her curve in that most modest of way that I find attractive. She was drinking a virgin Bloody Mary. A sure message to me that she was a woman of taste and moderation. She was not looking my way. She knew that a man should walk up to the girl and he should make the first move. She knew that she had to get me to speak to her and to notice her.

I walked up to her and stood beside her. For the briefest of moments, I said nothing, simply allowing her perfume to slide over me while I was admiring her beautiful smile. She felt my presence and turned around, our eyes met and she suddenly knew what I had known since I entered the restaurant. She knew that I was the one she was waiting for. She was not happy or sad, she was not thrilled of disappointed. She was just relieved. I don’t really know why, but that is the feeling that I read on her face.

Without a word, we turned and walked to our table. Words were not really needed; they had all already been used. Without a word we sat and stared at each other. Without a word we smiled. Without a word our eyes locked. I was starting to wonder if she was a mute.

Then, she said: “Haroun”. She had this delightful accent. The type of accent that you only find in this part of the world. I smiled back and said, “Yep, It’s me”.

We shared a meal, we shared a drink, we shared a few smiles and a few laughs. Suddenly, much too suddenly, it was late. We were the only customers left in the place. We hadn’t said much to each other, we hadn’t shared much. Yet, there were no more words needed. The bill came, it was paid. There was nothing left of the evening. It had come and gone. It was time to leave. It was time to part ways and ponder on what might have been.

I stood up, she remained seated. I smiled, turned and walked out of the restaurant and into the street. I didn’t feel like driving home. I walked. The night was cold. I was lost in my thoughts. I got home without really noticing, I went upstairs without really thinking.

I stepped into the shower and washed away the last traces of her perfume. I went to bed knowing that there is always tomorrow and that there will be another dinner. This time, I will get there first and wait at the bar. I will order a Virgin bloody Mary. Not because I like it, but simply because I want her to know that I noticed.

Tomorrow is another day, Dinner is another adventure, life, still has to be lived

Haroun El Poussah

Who are Noora and Layala?

I was surprised to learn this morning that several of the people in our office follow, with great interest, the blog of Noora and Layala. I mean I knew they were famous, but turns out they are almost legendary (I wonder how many visitors they get a day).

I found out over breakfast this morning and of course, the 6 of us started discussing the blog. The key question that was circulating was: “Who are Noora and Layala?”. Are they everything that they seem on the blog? Many people in the cafeteria heard our discussions and all the men ran to their office to find their laptop and started reading. 30 minutes later, we ordered fresh croissants, fresh coffee and started discussing the details of Noora’s Shower guy and of Layala’s faulty lamp. Soon, there were 18 people speculating on who were Noora and Layala. Here are some of the ideas that were floating around

1. Layala is a 5’1 Philippina. She’s 48 years old and Noora is her daughter
2. Noora and Layala are actually the same person and it’s in fact a man.
3. Noora is British, works for Emirates Airline and Layala is her local counter part
4. Layala is in fact a man and Noora is his wife
5. Layala and Noora are 12 year old twins (Although if this is true then they know Way too much about sex)
6. Noora is in fact an Emirati lady, is a virgin and gets her information from porn movies and from Layala, who is in fact a Russian prostitute. How did those two meet, remains a mystery
7. Layala is blonde, tall (1m72 was the general consensus), blue eyed and everything that you could imagine from reading the blog. Noora was tall as well, brunette, long hair, simply gorgeous
8. Both of them have now left the Emirates and are living in California
9. Layala is, in fact, Noora’s lover. They are Lesbians and speak about men to hide their true nature
10. Layala is, in fact a man, and Noora is his lover.
11. Noora and Layala are in fact the same person and she’s 53, married with 8 kids and just longing for the days gone by

And the list goes on… and on… and on.

Whoever they are, everyone in the office agreed that the blog was entertaining and the address started circulating. The men love the blog, the ladies think it’s shameful and should be banned.

Haroun El Poussah

I've been put in my place

Last night I was at a dinner party for the big bosses in the company. It is one of those events where everyone wears his best set of clothes and tries to appear way more intelligent and charming than he really is.

As it is also an open bar event, towards the end of the night, most people are completely wasted. For my part I never drink when with people I work with. Part of the old “don’t shit where you eat” adage.

Anyhow, at around 1am, this 50 year old lady walks up to me, she is clearly drunk, she checks me up and down, and says: “ You’re the guy in charge in this part of the world? You work for my husband?”. Having no idea who she was or who her husband was, and since she was clearly completely drunk, I decided to simply agree. No harm can come from agreeing. So, she looks me straight in the eyes and says: “I have to have a word with my husband about you, that tie of yours is the most disgusting tie I’ve ever seen”.

Ok, so we have already established, long ago, that I have no taste in cloths. This is why whenever I need to buy anything other than a T-Shirt, I walk into the Hugo Boss shop and ask the salesman to make a few combinations for me. You know, tie, shirt, suit. I then tag them all to make sure that a couple of months later when I actually do need to use them I’d keep the sets intact.

So, that woman was making fun of my tie. And, for your information, it was not one of those Disney tie with Mickey and Pluto. I only use those at less formal functions (It wasn’t my Lord Of The Ring tie either). Stupid woman! For those of you who know me personally, you’d know that I like ties. I don’t mind someone telling me that my suit is ugly (and the pants were probably a couple of centimeters too short) but no one, absolutely no one criticizes my ties.

Under normal circumstances, I would have just answered: “and that outfit of yours makes you look old and fat”. But, I had no idea who that woman was. So, I ignored her while I went around the room asking everyone who that crazy old lady was. Having asked everyone in the room, I was quite confident that no one knew her. I went to the bathroom and made sure there wasn’t someone there that I had forgot to ask.

At that point in the evening, I was quite confident that her husband was not in the room and that since all my bosses where in the room, she was not related to any of them

I looked for her and located her close to the bar (where else) and I approached her with my most adventurous pick up line: “Why don’t you like my tie?”. My plan was to embarrass her. Humiliate her. Teach her that a Man’s tie is sacred. She turns around and I immediately saw that she had had at least 5 more drinks since our last conversation. “I am in room 1417”, she replied. Did I say she was 50 years old? I might have underestimated this, she was probably 60. Now, I know these chronicles make me appear desperate and I know that I’ve said I got horny watching my dog getting some… But I am not THAT bad!

I tried to back out: “Sorry, you misunderstood, me”. She looks me up with her alcohol ravaged eyes and says: “No, not at all, I told you that you had a shitty tie, you went around the room trying to figure out who I am and came back with that fucking line of yours. You are one of those young guys who think they are smart. Well, let me tell you, you are fat, you are ugly, you dress like a buffoon and you revolt me. I wouldn’t sleep with you even if I had another 50 drinks”

Haroun El Poussah

Message in a bottle

The fortunate ones only get to make 2 or 3 life changing decisions during their time on this earth. However, those that know that luck is earned, not received, know that every decision is a life changing one.

Since it has been a while since I’ve had a date to report and since the Dubai Dating Chronicles still need updating, I felt another serious post was in order. Yes, Yes, I know, two in a row

I was talking to someone yesterday who was about to go on a trip to see her Beau of the hour. She was about to go half way across the world to spend a few more days with the man that occupies her thoughts. That, in itself, is not a life changing decision. The life changing decision is the one of coming back.

Life changing decisions are not always as they seem. Calling the woman to ask her out is not life changing, her accepting might be. Choosing Italian where pasta sauce can end up on the shirt, instead of the classical French could also be life changing. Each and every one of us will come across those decisions and what separates the losers from the winners in life are how we go about making them.

Here are my 4 recommendations when faced with a LCD:

1. Never go with your first instinct. Yes, yes, I know this is contrary to what you have been told. Forget what you have been told, its BS. Always have a first instinct, then sleep on it, make the effort to forget it and think about it again. First instinct don’t come from the mind, they come from the gut.

2. Always take advise. Even if you don’t have anyone close. Always take advise. Even if you know you will disregard it later. Taking someone else’s advice forces you to explain the case to him. When you explain to someone, it forces you to organize your thoughts.

3. Dedicate time to thinking about it. Include it in your calendar. Or dedicate a specific time for it. For me, all life changing decisions get made during my 45 minute drive to work. This has two advantages. First, I know that I will be thinking about it during that time so I don’t worry about it before that. Second I know I only have 45 minutes, it forces be to actually make a decision

4. Never look back. Once the decision is made, get behind it 100%. Don’t hesitate. Trust in the fact that you thought about it and you are making the right one. Trust your own abilities

Well, that’s all I have for now. I am sure I will have more later and I KNOW I will have a funny story for you on Sunday. For those of you who prefer the lighter side of the chronicles, please come back on Sunday and I shall have another true Haroun El Poussah adventure to tell. It will be full of hope, disappointments, candor, and Haroun making an ass of himself. Again.

Until then, I wish you all Merry Dating, successful LCDs and happy sexual experiences

Haroun El Poussah

Late night pleasure

Last night, late, I decided to go walk my dog on the beach. This happens quite often. I am one of those people who can’t sleep very well and when this happens I like to take my dog to the beach. She really loves it and for her it is the optimum freedom to run around, swim etc

Last night I arrived at the beach at around 3:15 am. I have been to that beach, at that time, so often that the regular police patrol knows me quite well and, as usual, they stopped for a quick chat. However, having read Noora and Layala’s post, I kept the conversation short out of fear for my ass. I mean, you never know.

Anyhow, I am straying. As I the dog and I were walking along the beach, lost in our thoughts, enjoying the clear sky and fresh air, we noticed another person and his dog coming from the opposite direction. It is a world known fact that all dog owners are always friendly to each other. We stopped and started to talk and chat about this and that. Peter seemed like a pretty decent person and it was an interesting little conversation.. He told me all about his dog (Pluto) and I told him everything about my bitch.

Then we start hearing weird noise, we turn around and there was Pluto humping my bitch! Pluto was making those weird little dog noises as he was getting his pleasure and my Bitch was rolling her eyes as she approached the point of no return.

We both watched, silently, as the dogs did the nasty. Peter was thinking about his new girlfriend and I was thinking: “Even the Bitch is getting some. Bitch!”

Haroun El Poussah

Cognito Ergo Sum

Yesterday was a tough day for me. A very, very tough day. As I was driving home, quite tired and exhausted a few friends called with an offer I couldn’t refuse: Beers and Tequila

As I got to our favorite venue for such activities, sat down, and proceeded to consume an extraordinary amount of both drinks, the group started talking about their dating experiences in Dubai. As someone who likes to listen more than talk, I was fascinated with what I was hearing. Tales of loose women, BMWs, money being spent, Gym sessions, Viagra and other, flowed across the table like cheap wine. For the first time in a long, long time I felt out of place. These were my friends, yet a few Tequila shots had released a side of them that I never knew. I tried to intercede but was told: “Every one in Dubai is like that”. Both the men and the women at the table said the same thing.

This is the second time I am told the same thing. Only a couple of days ago someone else was making the argument that all men in Dubai are pigs. And that most women do actually like it and encourage it. I mean they wouldn’t be pigs if it didn’t work, would they?

This is not one of my funny posts. I am not really in the mood for one of those this morning. I feel like thinking out loud. I feel like organizing my thoughts on paper. If this is not your cup of tea, please leave now and be reminded that this is MY blog and I shall write on it what I want. Nah!

So, as I was driving home at 4am last night, I started thinking about the conversation we were having in relation to my dating experience here. I kept telling myself “I am not like that. I am different.”. “I am better”. While it is absolutely true that I am “not like that” I am not sure anymore (now that I am sober) that “better” is the right word. Who am I to judge? If it works for them, it works for them. I guess we just have different goals. And, here lies the issue.

The men that were discussed around the table mostly know one of two things: Either that they are destined to marry a virgin that they barely know or that they are here for a relatively short period of time and will soon be back to the “real” world. As a result, both have the same aim: To sleep with as many women as they can while it lasts. A commendable goal. I am all or that. Good luck. If you have such a goal, you also have to give yourself the tools to achieve the objective. A nice car, A Gym induced body, expensive clothes, etc, etc. In order to succeed, what counts most is the first impression. Something that can easily be achieved through a few hours at the Gym, a nice car and a few minutes in front of a mirror before leaving the house. You might also need a few well rehearsed jokes to tell.

That is fine with me. I am all for that sort of attitude. Going and getting what you want, investing in making it happen is what I am all about as well. However, I have also reached the conclusion that my little luck with dating in this country is because I have a different goal. You see, I will not be marrying a virgin that I barely know and I am not here for a short period of time before going back to the “real” world.

As a result, my priorities have shifted from screwing anything that moves to human contact in general. While “human contact in general” does include nocturnal activities, they are not the only included item on the list. Indeed, if you think about it, time in bed can be 1 or 2 hours a day (5 min for me, but that’s another issue for another post) but the time spend face to face is a lot more than the 1 or 2 hours. For me, enjoying that other time is equally, if not more important.

I would like to be able to call her on my way back from a long day at work and talk about something completely different. I would like to be able to plan a dinner with her knowing that I will be able to be surprised by the conversation. That it would take us into uncharted water with weird topics of conversation. I would like to be able to sustain a 5 min phone conversation with her about a topic other than sex, phone sex. Those are important things for me. I think it is my right to have them on the “important things” list. I also understand that I should not whine about other people not having them on the same list. I would like to show her the places I have been without boring her, I would like to take her to the base of mount Fuji or diving in Australia, I would like to go to the Opera with her without having her yawning every 5 minutes, I would like to have her disagree with me on the idea that Picasso is the best painter that ever lived, I would like to share a sunset with her without her ruining it with words such as: “This is beautiful”, of course it is, I know it, you know it, I know you know, you know I know, shut the fuck up.

I, like everyone else have things going for me and things going against me. I, as I suspect every one else, have made numerous lists of them. That list has not changed much for me in the last 10 years. On the negative side are most of the first impression things: Looks, cloths, effort, flashy car, etc. On the positive side are all the things that take time to discover. And, I have come to terms with that long ago. My reasoning is that if a woman doesn’t take the time to dig deeper then I might not be right for her and she might not be right for me. That is why, every relationship I’ve ever had has lasted a fairly long time, because it was always build on a meeting of the mind rather than a joining of the body. Once again, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the sex like everyone else. I just hate to have to lay next to her in the dark afterwards with nothing to say. That silence is what kills me.

Well, that was as deep as it gets this morning. Back to the normal posting style shortly. As soon as I can find my next victim. Until then, I wish you all Merry Dating and a Happy new significant other...

Haroun El Poussah

Stalker?

I may have a Stalker! 982 sms, 114 emails.

Does that qualify?

Haroun El Poussah

To know or not to know

This afternoon, I was sitting in the office bored beyond belief. If it wasn’t for a MSN conversation with a very attractive women, I would have shot myself.

As the afternoon was turning into evening, I got a call from a friend who invite me to a general knowledge competition. I like general knowledge competition for the simple reason that, more often than not, I win

This event has simple rules. Eight teams of two, 400 questions the one who answers the most questions wins. Entry price is Dhs2000 and the winning purse is Dhs10000

Below are some of the questions I remember. How many can you get right? I will post the answers tomorrow evening.

What is the capital of Honduras?
What year was America discovered?
Who was president of France in 1977?
What is the Magna Carta (I shit you not!)
Who killed President Lincoln?
What is the EuroStar?
What is the capital of Jamaica?
Who won the world cup in 1934?
What is the marital status of Ms Cliquot?
Which Chinese town hosts the terracotta warriors?
What does USSR stand for?
What was Muhammad Ali’s original name?
What is the name of the ruler of Fujeirah?
What do we give thanks for on Thanksgiving?
What was the name of Bill Clinton’s dog?
What is the currency of Australia?
Who composed “the Four Seasons”?
Who is Han Solo?
What was the name of the first printing press?
How many years ago was Christ born?

Haroun El Poussah

Jane the Mind Ripper

The secretary of one of our customers is crazy. Well, crazy about me apparently. Last week, when I went to see the customer, I stopped at her desk, like I always do, and had a quick chat with her. This week, she sent me 258 sms messages asking me if I wanted to go out for coffee. In the end, after saying NO 257 times in 257 different ways, for the sake of my sanity I decided to accept.

However, I wanted to make sure that she wouldn’t ask me again, so I decided to be as rude as I possibly could.

I got to Aroma café, 40 minutes late and I found her waiting patiently for me with a huge smile forming up on her face when she saw me. She didn’t even mention that I was late and I didn’t bother to apologize. I sat down and she proceeded to thank me for coming, I interrupted her with an order for an orange juice and I didn’t even ask her if she wanted anything. Apparently she didn’t because she just continued talking as if nothing happened.

As she was bla blaing on and on about some inconsequential thing or another, I finished my orange juice and let go the loudest burp in the history or recorded burps. She started laughing and said she loved people who felt comfortable enough to do that

It was getting painful. Usually I don’t need to make a fool out of myself on purpose, it just happens. This woman was going to be a challenge!

After ignoring her for 1 hour, burping, interrupting, speaking on the phone, etc, I concluded that the only way out was a loud fart. The loudest fart I could muster. That should do it. I mean, if the farting itself didn’t get her, the smell would. I gathered myself, adjusted my sititng position to let our just enough air and proceed to push, push as hard as I could.

Unfortunately, 45 minutes later, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t fart at will. Apparently I am fart-challenged.

Haroun El Poussah

Weapons Of Mass Distractions

Last night I was invited to the gala dinner for the Dubai Film Festival. Initially, I didn’t want to so, since I don’t know anyone there, but I was bored so I decided to show up.

I was seated at a table with Laurence Fishburne, Yousra, Lolla, Hussein Fahmi and Ian Barton.

Now, for those of you who don’t know Lolla, let me tell you that she has two nuclear weapons that should be banned by the IAEA or risk being invade by Bush’s America

So, anyway. Here I am sitting at that table and I am observing all those smart people chat amongst themselves about holidays in the Bahamas, mansions in California, Penthouses in London, Plastic surgery and here I ma worried about dropping mustard on my $9.99 red tie. The conversation was pretty boring for a mere mortal like myself and I was about to call it a night when Lolla looks at me and, for the first time all evening, she seem to realize that some weird, chubby guy that she doesn’t know is sitting at the table. She raises an eyebrow and checks me out from top to bottom, then turns to Yousra and says: (Keep in mind that I don’t look AT ALL like I speak Arabic): “El gada3 dah beyboselli kedda leih?”

At that point, it took ALL my legendary self discipline and mythical self control not to turn tomato red or burst out laughing.

So, Yousra turns to her and with the most serious face she says: “makhatesh bally, hezzy bizazik shwayya 3ashan ashouf”. This is when I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned fire red, and couldn’t contain the smile on my face and I looked at Lolla right in her eyes. She turned blue and said: “Ya lahwi. Inta bititkalem 3arabi?”

I simply looked at her and nodded. They both smiled and proceeded to explain to Laurence Fishburne what had happened. He also seemed to notice me for the first time. He asked me whether I had seen his last movie “Bobby” I replied that I hadn’t. At that point the soup was served and I saw him looking around the table for something. I said: “ Laurence, you should know better, There is no spoon”

I think it wasn't the first time he heard that aprticualr joke. No matter, I thought it was funny.

I was ignored for the rest of the evening.

Haroun El Poussah

Word from God

DG has left a comment on my previous post. He was kind enough to care for my soul and it's eternal damnation. The comments stirred so many emotions in me that I decided to copy it here.

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Narrated Abu Hurayrah:

I heard the Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) say: “All of my followers may be forgiven except those who commit sin openly. It is a kind of committing sin openly if a man does something at night, then morning comes and Allah has concealed his sin, but he says, ‘O So and so, I did such and such last night,’ when his Lord has concealed him (his action) all night but in the morning he reveals that which Allah had concealed for him.” (Bukhari Hadith No.: 5721; Muslim Hadith No.: 2990)

Fear Allah. Mashallah you have great writing skill. Use it for good things. Remember all of us will have to answer for our actions in this world. Prepare yourself well for that day.Fear Allah, don't become like these people:

Narrated Abu Hurayrah (may Allah be pleased with him) said: The Messenger of Allah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “If the believer commits a sin, a black spot appears on his heart. If he repents, gives it up and seeks forgiveness, his heart is cleansed, but if he does more then (that spot) increases until it covers his heart. (Ahmad Hadith No.: 8792 and al-Tirmidhi Hadith No.: 3334)

That is the raan (covering of sin) which Allaah mentioned in the Qur’aan: “Nay! But on their hearts is the Raan (covering of sins and evil deeds) which they used to earn” (Quran 83:14)

If my words make sense to you, then please remember me in prayers. If you think something is wrong with my brain, then also please forgive me & pray to Allah to cure my brain. More info on this topic here.

May Allah guide all of us to His right path.


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Haroun El Poussah

Bond, James Bond

Last night, I went on a date. A nice lady. We were introduced last week by a mutual friend who had invited both of us for a barbecue at his home. At the end of the evening, she gave me her number and asked me to call her. Which I did; and invited her to a movie.

Movies are a good idea for a first date. No risk of pasta sauce ending up on my shirt, no risk of getting completely drunk at the bar, no risk of her finding out that I dance like a pregnant elephant or that I have no meaningful conversation to speak of. I mean, after all how can anyone screw up a date where all he has to do it sit in the dark and watch a movie?

Well, I know such a man. His name is Haroun El Poussah (some, mistakenly, think he is also called Herlock Sholmes but that is a story for another time).

So, back to screwing up sitting in the dark watching a perfectly innocent movie. Yes, innocent movie. Sitting in the dark watching the latest adult only movie is screwable. But watching James Bond isn’t.

So, we arrive early, sit and start chatting while we wait for the main attraction to start. A few minutes later, Sophie, announces that she is hungry and wouldn’t mind a hotdog. Being a gallant gentleman, I offer to go get her one. By the time I got back with a couple of hot dogs and some nachos the movie has started. We sit there and proceed to eat our food while Daniel Craig is showing off his pelvic muscles.

98 minutes later the movie ends and the light comes back on only for me to discover that half the hotdog mustard and half the Nacho red sauce ended on my shirt.

“Hell and Damnation!!” Is there no end to the streak of bad luck? Can it get any worse? Of course, the only upside to this whole situation is that she could offer to lick the weird mixture off my shirt. But at that point, considering the look on her face, I was not holding my breath. So, our eyes meet and I can see horror in hers. I smile, that innocent smile that got me out of so many bad situations when I was 4. Unfortunately she is not 4, nor is she is not my mother, she is a woman – a good looking woman – and she doesn’t want to be seen, in public, with anyone wearing a shirt like mine.

She looks at me leans forward, bringing her lips close to my ear and whispers: “Let’s go find the hot dog that goes with this sauce”…

Haroun El Poussah

Nuts and Bolts

Over a wonderful dish of Lasagne she told me: “Haroun, you eat like a pig. Half of the lasagna ends up on your shirt”

Over a wonderful glass of Chianti she told me: “Haroun, you drink like a fish, you are disgusting”

Over a decent Tiramisu she told me: “Haroun, you swine, leave the sweets alone”

And, I thought she didn’t like me. Turns out she is into the Submissive, Repulsive, whip and cuffs kinda thing. So, I tried to explain to her that, as long as I am the one doing the whipping, cuffing, slapping, spitting, cursing, biting, kicking and punching, we could do as much of it as she wanted

Turns out she is into doing the whipping, cursing, kicking and punching. I told her that if she thought I was willing to get whipped to sleep with her she had delusions of grandeur.

She told me to shut the fuck up or she’ll smack me

I told her that I wanted to do the smacking because right about now I really thought she deserved it

I took a step back, making sure to stay out of reach. You never know what those crazy females can do in a restaurant. They get turned on by pretty weird things. Then, she proceeds to tell me that she would like to bite my balls off. I almost fainted. My balls? Bite them off? Is she nuts?

I tell you, getting a reliable date in Dubai these days is like playing Russian roulette with your balls. I have been to weird places in this world of ours. Be it Nigeria, the Australian Outback, Brazil, Togo, Benin, Saudi Arabia… No woman has ever offered to bite my balls off… I was expecting someone to offer to served them up with Ketchup a few times (Brazil, and Australia), and I was expecting a man to offer to bite them off once (Saudi Arabia), but… you know… total shock

Haroun El Poussah

The Bitch

My dog and I are close friends. We do many activities together every day. From walking on the beach to shitting and pissing we do these together. My dog loves me. Every time II get home she jumps displays a joy that warms my heart. Every time she sees me packing my bags, she bites my ankles in an attempt to prevent me from leaving. When I feed her, she always shows gratitude and happiness, when I play with her, she is always willing and able, when I ignore her, she knows I am busy and stays away, when I am sad, she feels it and tries to cheer me up. My dog is my best friend

My ex was the exact opposite. She used to want to piss and shit alone (Thank God). She never displayed any affection or interest in me and when I packed my bags to leave on a business trip she never failed to ask: How long are you gone for? Of course she just wanted to know how long she had the house to herself so she could fornicate in piece with her boyfriend.

When we decided to separate, we had to discuss who would get what. While we were not married, we had lived together for a while and I felt it fair that we share everything. I felt that we should share everything down the Middle. She would get one of the cars (I let her chose), she would keep all her cloth, and we would sell all the furniture and split the money in half. I felt it was fair.

It all went smoothly until it was the actual moment to leave the empty house that had been our home for so long, she wanted the dog!! “What the fuck”? She had never, ever, once, cared for the dog. Not once had she done anything but yell at her. So, in a moment of anger, I had to agree to a new deal. I gave up both cars, all the furniture money, all the joint account balance and anything else she wanted if she would let me have the dog

So, I lost a cheating girlfriend, a few dirhams, a car but I gained a best friend. Sounds like a great deal to me.

Haroun El Poussah