IN A WAITING ROOM SOMEWHERE

"How many did we bring along?' 

"23, could be more." 

"Where's your left leg?"

"I don't know. Can't find the three fingers on my left hand either."

"That's fine, you won't need them." 

"True. Are you going to let go of that steering wheel?" 

"I can't seem to, it's melted around my hands." 

"That's fine, you won't need your hands." 

"True, true." 

"So when do you think they'll let us in?" 

"I don't know. Can't be long now." 

"Do you think they heard of our heroism?" 

"Oh, definitely. It was big." 

"You saw it?" 

"I did, right before I drove up. It was massive." 

"That makes me happy." 

"You look happy." 

"Well, of course I'm happy! 72!"

"Each." 

"Exactly, each!" 

"Do you think they'll like us?" 

"We're heroes, of course they'll like us." 

"Look! I think they're opening the door!" 

 "Look at them in there! Drunk, cavorting.." 

"We should be cavorting." 

"We will, soon enough." 

"I think they're signaling us to go in." 

"After you." 

"No, no, after YOU." 

"No, I'll never accept it, after YOU." 

"YOU." 

"No, YOU." 

"Ok, we'll go in together." 

"Fine." 

"Wait a minute, I think we're forgetting something." 

"What is it?" 

"... Did you check your pants?" 

"No.." 

"Shit. It's gone. You?" 

"Yes, same here." 

"That's not good." 

"Maybe we shouldn't have put the bombs right underneath our seats." 

"Yeah." 

"Because now we're dickless." 

"Yes." 

"And we're gonna need them." 

"I know." 

"So..." 

"Yep." 

"This turned out to be a waste of effort." 

"Yep." 

"So what do we do now?" 

"Let me think..." 

"Fine." 

"I think I know." 

"What." 

"We're dickless, right?" 

"Right." 

"So we can't do much with those 72 now.." 

"Right." 

"We could ask for a different gender." 

"Huh? Why?" 

"Well, we still got our asses..."

STOCKHOLM, HERE I COME!

I was a hostage once.
Well, it was for about 5 hours, but still, had three guns pointed at my head the whole time. 
Looking back at that night, I can't help but think of all the mistakes that were made and how things could have turned out differently.

So below are a few comments that I think every would-be captor could benefit from:


1- You need to be sober, man. No would-be victim is going to take you seriously if you're slurring your words. And things get awkward when we need to ask you to repeat yourself. Look sharp, it helps up the terror factor.

2- Make sure you have a big gun. A small gun could do the job, sure. But an M16 or Kalashnikov has more reach. You'll be able to butt someone's head without stepping into their personal space. Etiquette and all that.

3- Don't get dragged into long-winded conversations. You don't want to hear about all the times we were unjustly grounded by our parents and how that left a blemish on our souls. Believe me: All that talking was instrumental in my kidnappers letting me go, if only to shut me the hell up.

4- Beware of Stockholm Syndrome, even during short kidnappings. People like me are highly sensitive. We might want marriage at the end of the ordeal, and no self-respecting asshole would ever accept being taken hostage in turn, and for life, via a ring.
Stay vigilant.

5- Practice makes perfect. I personally was insulted that such amateurs would dare attempt this shit with me. But a highly-skilled killer and kidnapper extraordinaire? Respect.
Note: This can increase the possibility of the victim developing Stockholm Syndrome. See point 4. 

6-  Please, whatever you do, if you must be the spokesman for the group, make sure your voice is deep, a growl, hoarse, scary, and not like your balls are yet to drop. YOU'RE JUST MAKING IT HARDER FOR US TO DEVELOP STOCKHOLM SYNDROME AND WHAT THE FUCK ELSE IS THERE TO LOOK FORWARD TO?

7- If you must make advances on your captive, be suave, witty, romantic, or if none of this applies to you, then for fuck's sake be a man and don't let a 20 year old like I was back then almost throw up and get you all flustered, you stupid, ball-less douche.

8- Don't tell your captive your name. Or your mama's name. Or your sister's name. Or the village you come from. It helps if you're not drunk and spilling your heart out to a psychology major like myself, you stupid, stupid man.

There you have it. Feedback straight from the captive.
Hopefully, this will be the beginning of a long and fruitful career in being a professional asshole.
Good luck!

A SHRINK'S POINT OF VIEW

The patient is severely delusional.
He has shown a proclivity to vengeance, is easy to anger and overly dramatic, in addition to being prone to fits of rage and mistrust.
He has, on one occasion that we know of, tested a man to unimaginable limits, his way of gaging loyalty.

He has killed, drowned and tortured many. In fact, for all intents and purposes he could be considered a danger to society. An apocalyptic danger, in fact.
In the past, he has incited violence amongst different cultures and has cheer-leaded occupation, apartheid and injustice.
He has used people as pawns in a diabolical game with another patient, L. Together, they have wreaked havoc and misery.

He is greedy. No matter how much money you give him, he still wants more.
He wants more houses. Everywhere.
He wants more loyalty and love, exhibiting a tremendous amount of egoism.
He wants unlimited allegiance and will punish those he thinks have transgressed him.
He is hard to please.
His rules are rigid and never yielding.

He can be forgiving, but only if you confess.
He can be kind, but only if you never anger him, and anything could anger him.
He is mostly silent and speaks to the very few, preferring to communicate with world leaders instead of the Average Joe.

The patient seems to believe he can be in multiple places at the same time. He believes he is the be-all and end-all of knowledge.

He could also be suffering from multiple personality disorder. 

He is under the impression that he got a virgin pregnant without ever touching her and goes so far as to assert she gave birth to him. At any given point, he will insist he is actually three entities. 

The patient really, really dislikes apples.
Bananas, however, are tolerated.

Overall, the diagnosis includes messianic complex, histrionic and personality mood disorder, and multiple personality disorder. In addition, he needs to undergo anger management courses.
We recommend an extensive stay at a psychiatric ward for supervision and medication, to be re-evaluated after a one-year period.
Oh, and one more thing: He only answers to the name "God."

The Dictator's Handbook

Congratulations, you are now the proud owner of a country, its people, and its resources. Granted, exciting times may be ahead, but you need to be prepared for any eventuality such as, say, an eruption of protests or - I don't know - a revolution.
This nifty little handbook will help you navigate dark waters ahead; in the event that you are a desert-based dictator, it will help you discern mirages from reality. Try to follow the advice herein very carefully, your life and your wardrobe may depend on it.

1- Don't be a dick. A benevolent dictator is more likely to be successful inducing a whole country into Stockholm-Syndrome-esque adoration. But if they so much as sneeze wrong, then by all means, be an absolute dick. An iron fist is very useful in quelling dissent, or a flu.

2- Always keep a large group of yes-men and women around. They will serve as a buffer between you and true morality. However, do not ask them if you look "fat in this," you won't like it then.

3- Marry a domineering, cruel, but beautiful woman. Cheat on her often; hell hath no fury as a woman scorned and your population will get the brunt of it. They probably deserve it, anyway.

4- Clothes. You must have clothes. (There have been one or two emperors who have made do without, but that's a whole other story.)
It is advisable that you maintain a certain style, a certain flair, a certain "look." Hats, sunglasses, heels, tents, whatever it is you need to wear to get due attention, wear it. It's even better if your style is so bizarre, it makes people think you're crazy enough to do anything, including boil them alive.

5- Be nice to the West. The East can go fuck itself. Unless the West doesn't like you. In which case the East can have its ass kissed.

6- Rambling speeches at the UN. Nice touch.

7- Rambling speeches in general are encouraged. It doesn't matter who your audience is. You are Dictator. You can give a rambling speech to a goat, if you so wish.

8- A pet goat, while you're at it. Or a tiger, dictators love tigers. Or monkeys. Monkey are cool. Boas, spiders, a human slave, etc. For a more "royal" touch, you'll need horses, too. Maybe even have glitzy, billion-dollar races in your country. Or any other kind of race. Car races, for example. Like Formula 1. Or something.

9- Have lots of kids and make sure you nurture feelings of abject hate and mistrust between them. You can't trust any of the bastards, so Divide and Conquer it is. Besides, it will keep them too busy to eye your position, and whittling their number down to the last one standing can be an easy way to pick an heir.

10- Pillage your country's resources. If worse comes to worst, destroy them as you run. It's very important that you maintain your ruthless reputation till the very end. Well, maybe not the *exact* end. You can, for example, arrive in court on a stretcher.

You are now ready to take command and unleash hell. Just remember, always have a Plan B, just in case. Some of you could be fashion designers, some of you could be best-selling authors or something totally random, like ophthalmologists.
Good luck!

1:20pm. Update Blog.

9:15am. Walk into work.
9:25am. Wish you could walk out.
10:03am. Bang head against the wall, willing emails to stop coming in.
10:37am. Realize head-banging makes you want a guitar, preferably to smash over someone's head.
11:12am. Make third cup of coffee.
11:13am. Get yelled at by Nazi Kitchen Lady for breathing in her vicinity.
11:14am. Grind teeth, grab Nazi Kitchen Lady and hug her because they throw you in jail for strangling her.
11:59am. Realize it's 11:59am and it's too early for lunch.
12:31pm. Write a tweet, then proceed to obsessively check for stars and retweets.
12:40pm. Realize you have a problem.
12:41pm. Call for delivery. Patiently wait for person on the other side of the phone to repeat every word you say. Nod. Laugh at yourself for nodding. Lose patience and snap at person.
1:17pm. Start a political discussion while colleagues eat. Watch as colleagues find it harder and harder to swallow. Enjoy.
2:30pm. Get to a meeting. Wait 15 minutes for everyone else to show up.
3:00pm. Leave first meeting to get to second meeting.
3:15pm. Go back to first meeting when nobody shows up, vowing for the 734th time never to be punctual again.
3:52pm. Show up early to third meeting, patting self on back that "early" is not "punctual."
4:20pm. Feel like an idiot for adding 10 extra minutes to regular waiting period.
5:00pm. Wish you could be home.
6:00pm. Wish you could be home.
7:00pm. Get home and immediately bicker with the BF.
7:15pm. Wish you could be at the office.
8:00pm Curse Lebanon's internet for 5 hours until everyone is asleep and connection is easier.
1:30am. Lie awake wondering which life choices to blame.
1:33am. Blame the BF.
1:40am. Feel bad. Blame cats instead.
1:45am. Feel guilty. Blame parents.
1:47am. Feel horrible. Blame self.
1:50am. Feel miserable. Blame ceiling.
1:52am. Continue this way until 4 in the morning.
Repeat.

Friday's Identity Crisis

Late last Thursday evening, Friday was checked into a private rehabilitation center most notably known as a refuge for celebrities suffering from personality mood disorders, i.e. the entire Hollywood scene. No reports have yet emerged as to the reason behind this sudden break-down.

Asked to comment on this latest turn of events, the Twitterverse went into convulsions, spewing out an endless stream of nonsensical Friday tweets. Some are referring to this as the "Follow Friday," although few are aware of what this mysterious term means.

Meanwhile across the Middle East, protests have erupted, most likely in response to this latest calamity. Now activists are in a conundrum over which day to adopt as their own to use as a platform for their battle cry for democracy, or cheaper burgers, it's not clear which.

And Stateside, boycotts are now firmly in place after a certain teenager besmirched Friday entirely by repeatedly referring to it as FUN FUN FUN. When asked for a rebuttal, Friday meekly admitted to once being the go-to day heralding a weekend of activities, with people evoking its name and the lord's in thanks.

At press time, there was still no news as to the fate of Friday. Rumors are, however, floating around that an infamous person and Friday have begrudgingly made peace while patients at the same institution after the former accused the latter of causing a humanitarian intervention in his oil-rich country. It is unclear as to who these rumors refer to, although there was mention of many hats and snuggies in his possession.

The rest of the week kindly ask that their privacy be respected on this most painful occasion. 

Are We Talking Pills Here?

The countdown to the End Of Days is well on its way. This Saturday, what is now commonly known as the Rapture will be taking place at approximately 6pm. Nobody bothered telling me whether that would be Eastern Standard Time or just Standard Crazy Talk. Also, when we say "rapture," are we talking about the kind where people wear sunglasses at night and can't stop swinging their arms in the air as they listen to a fast beat caught on loop with their brains getting fried, or is it more the kind where they get swooped up into the sky while they're driving cars or planes and we're left with shit traffic to deal with afterwards? I have the feeling it's the latter, but we'll only know that for sure when the planet witnesses a sharp decrease in overall lunacy.
So in light of impending doom (or horrendous traffic), it is prudent that we discuss the ramifications of such an event, which I suspect will be far-reaching and wide:

1- Church is probably going to be empty come Sunday. 
2- Glenn Beck will be out of a lucrative job. 
3- Israel will lose a big ally, forcing it to come up with a new plan to replace "The Apocalypse" in order to continue its rampage against Palestinians. 
4- There will be an increase of smugness amongst the general Muslim population. 
5- Buddhists in all probability won't care. 
6- Republicans will keep drumming up inane issues nobody gives a flying fart about, because it's an addiction and they can't stop, even with their core electoral group now seated on clouds with popcorn in hand, having paid dearly for front-row seats to the bloodbath below. 
7- Obama will stop pretending he's white. Or a democrat. 
8- I will have to find some other topic to make incessant fun of. 

There's a lot more, but I'll leave it at that. For now.
But I will admit, after this weekend, I'll truly miss that thing on top of Donald Trump's head.

P.S. If it all turns out to be the other kind of "rapture," someone better invite me to that kick-ass party or I'm unleashing hell on the planet.