Sunday Night Reflections

Finally, a chance to relax with a good bottle of wine (by good, I mean $3.15 good) and a frozen pizza - "It's not delivery! It's disgusting!" A chance to contemplate my life, to weigh up the pro's and con's of it all. An opportunity to think. Quality time, "me" time. Time to ponder the kind of things best not pondered. You get the picture.....

I have come to the conclusion that Iranians are twats. This may not be news to many of you, given the events of recent days (weeks, months, years) and this may be why many of them do not like to be called Iranian, they prefer to be known as Persian instead. Generally, I don't like to make generalizations. I like to take people as I find them, giving them at least a minute to prove themselves worthy before I decide if they are a twat or not. In the case of these "people" I am prepared to make an exception.

Friday night, I had the misfortune to have to be present at a Norouz party. It was not for pleasure, more for preparation and to take notes in order that I better know my enemy should the call come from the Foreign Office in London. My dinghy has been inflated for two days now, just in case I am needed to rescue the captured British lads.

Norouz, for those of you from civilized countries who do not know, celebrates the beginning of spring and the Iranian (okay, Persian) New Year. I knew nothing of this before Friday, but went to the trouble of reading up on it so that I could appear worldly and smart if challenged on the subject. The entire experience was rather unpleasant.

I have never seen so many beautiful women in one room at the same time. Do not worry though, I am not fooled. I know that before long, each and every one of them will begin to look like Bert from Sesame Street. I have also never seen so many beautiful women accompanied by so many fugly men in my life. These lads set the bar for ugliness. They look like inhabitants of Middle Earth. The lad who directed Lord of The Rings could have saved a few bob by using them for extras instead of all that CGI and special effects. It would have been just as impressive.

Some more observations:

• They do not like to smile, at least not at white males who are bigger than they are. Most people when smiled at smile back, it is a natural reaction, an impulse, you cannot help it. These people appear not to have evolved to that point yet. A smile is almost an invitation to fight, if there is more than one of them that is. They do not like to fight alone. It's all "my friend, my friend" when they are solo. Get them in a group and they become major affronters.
• Many of them have trouble reading English. They have particular trouble reading the word "no", as in "NO Smoking". They enjoy a tab or twenty, usually some foul smelling turkish blend ciggies. Smoking appears to be, along with knocking the piss out of women, a cultural pastime. Also explains why their breath smells like cack.
• They have poor coordination. If they fight as well as they dance, we should have no problem. The paramedic was kept on his toes with many false alarms when called to the aid of someone who, to concerned onlookers, appeared to having an epileptic fit but was, in fact, just "getting on down with the groovy musics." Many males do not dance at all having repressed their latent homosexuality to such a degree that they are physically unable to even set foot on the dance floor, instead standing right on the edge trying to look hard. This may also be the reason why they seem not to bathe or use deodorant. They see it as being a bit gay.
• Low tolerance for alcohol. The two drink minimum should have been changed to two drink maximum. Those deisgner Armani threads may as well have been knock off's from a market stall now that you puked all over them you feeble cunt.

You can actually apply these same observations to people from many Baltic and Eastern European countries, most notably Armenia. I have lots of tales of encounters with those tracksuit wearing fuckers.