Filed under What the F

Come At Me Bro

Hey Joons,

I’m a little sexed out – better known as not getting any. And while I would love to go on about my problems, I thought I’d dedicate tonight to a slightly more depressing cause. Plus, when I actually think about it, I realize that  99 percent of my anger comes from listening to people’s idiotic opinions/conclusions/etc.

(here’s looking at you, Congress). 

Let me take it back a step. The world’s perception of Iran has changed dramatically over the last few years. Sure, the Hostage Crisis didn’t help in the late 70′s/early 80′s, but for the most part – Iran’s “scary factor” was overshadowed by the gossip of “weapons of mass destruction” in countries like Iraq – and once that was discovered to be untrue (and Saddam Hussein was done with), we focused on Afghanistan, and specifically, Bin Laden.

After we killed the bad guys and started moving toward the “reconstruction period” in those countries, our attention became fixated on Iran - thanks to Ahmadinejad, it wasn’t hard for people around the world to stop and think, “Oh he’s batshit… and he runs a country?!” 

HMIf we were to just take Ahmadinejad at face value, is the “threat” that Iran poses void? No, because we have the supreme pleasure to be in the presence of the puppet master, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei.

Also known as the scary ass man with a turban who preaches about the evils of America and is constantly shown cultivating his relationship with Hezbollah.

Personally, I think we’re more afraid of the turbans than of their power.

As Ann Coulter says, people should be imprisoned just for wearing a “hee-jab” in America because they’re assimilating Americans into their culture and pretty soon – we’ll all have undergone clitorectomies. (watch at 2 minutes and 35 seconds – she’s cray). Gosh, we really need “better immigrants” huh.

I digress. Back to the scary turban’ed men – the idea of them gaining nuclear power is horrifying and I can understand why – we don’t know these people here in America, we don’t know what their intentions are, we don’t know if they actually hate us – so we do the only thing that has proven to be effective in the past (please note my intense sarcasm):

We isolate. We sanction. We make life as difficult as humanly possible for the elite regime of Iran so that they will be forced into giving up any and all power – including nuclear power.

It’s almost like high school – we isolate the weird kid in class, we ignore him, we tease him, we make life as difficult as we can (for high school). And then one day, he ends up bringing a gun to school.

khBut if you ask me, our isolation and intense sanctions routine aren’t having the desired results we’d hope to see.  For one thing, sanctions are hurting the people more than it hurts the regime. Instead of making life harder for the Khamenei’s and Ahmadinejad’s of the world, sanctions are making it more difficult for people to get medical supplies. Cancer patients have barely any access to the necessary medicine to help with their illness (click here).

How are these people a threat to the international community’s national security? Instead, sanctions are victimizing people who have no say in the regime’s nuclear policies.

Furthermore, now that the value of currency in Iran has dropped literally below the point of any value, people are having a difficult time buying daily household necessities, like MILK. Fars News Agency reported that the consumption of milk has decreased by 20 percent as a result of high prices.

That makes sense – Iranians might build a nuclear weapon, so let’s put them at risk for osteoporosis!

I don’t understand the isolation strategy…

Why wouldn’t we want to talk to the people who are the unhappiest with us? Or the people who threaten us? Why wouldn’t we engage them so we can find a solution?

And okay, if the government is just “too crazy” to make any sort of substantial headway with through dialogue – then why aren’t we engaging the people? The next generation of Iranians who have already proven to be both both educated and opinionated?

fillmSanctions are supposedly an effort to mobilize the people to stand up to their oppression (or their government), right? But how are Iranians supposed to do that when they can’t afford everyday household items? Or when every political opposition leader that they’ve had in the last four years sits under house arrest?

Additionally, a  new round of sanctions have been passed that ban intellectuals from publishing their findings in scientific journals. Yes, let’s silence the intellectual community of Iranians and continue to allow the regime to have a voice in the media.

We expect people to find a way to gain access to information without helping them. We expect people to SPEAK OUT without allowing them the platform to do it. How can we expect change when we discourage it through our policy?

In the U.S., we preach the importance of democracy, and the values and human rights that democracy provides citizens. We exemplify to the world that democracy is the model form of governance. In fact, we even hope for established democracies in countries like Egypt, Iraq, and Iran. However, sanctions steal the citizen’s basic human rights. Iranians suffer from censorship and the lack of basic needs like dairy products or medicine.

We should be working with the people of the country – equipping them with the right tools to not only, survive but to have a voice. 

And while many of us don’t have the power to create change immediately, we all have a voice – it’s easy to forget those who are suffering when we are mad or when it doesn’t affect us directly. But we need to make sure the unheard voices are loud and clear for the rest of the world.

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

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TWEET AT ME: @FARRAH_JOON

PleaseDONTSanctionME,

FARRAH فرح
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There’s a Person Under This Beard

So I have a beard. No, I had a beard. Let me explain. I play around with my facial hair. It’s a way for me to change it up and have a good time. Girls do things with their hair. I recently heard the term “side bangs”. Me, I like to change it up on my face from time to time.

Will I enjoy sporting my moustache in different manners, I decided to grow my beard back out. Being as I am a Persian man, and I have more hair on my buttocks than most people on their head, before the week’s end I was looking like the Oxi clean guy.

oxi That’s when the recurring issue happened every time I grow my beard.

“You look like a terrorist.” In a span of about 21 days, I heard dozens of alterations of that sentence.

“You look dangerous,” 

“You look scary,”

“You look like you’re going to blow something up.”

I tell you it is non-conditional.

My friend, who happens to be sefeed (Trans: vaait. Trans: white) also has a pretty thick set beard. What comments does he get?

“Sick beard bro!” “You look like a lumberjack!” “What a hipster beard”.

I asked him what’s the worst thing someone told you. He said someone told him he looked like a “bum.” Continue reading

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My Personal Comedian

JOONS:

Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful and amazing mothers out there. We wouldn’t be here without you… literally.

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As an ode to Iranian mothers - I thought there is no better way to celebrate today than to tell you all a little about my mother. No horror stories… well depends on how you look at it.

My mom has always been dependent but that doesn’t mean she can’t stand up for herself. I remember YEARS ago (like 17… she was pregnant with my brother), we all went to France for my dad’s engineering conference. I was eight years old and we had been warned that “gypsies” pick pocket. We were crossing the street to go to some museum (memory is hazy on the exact place…) – when all of a sudden, a group of about eight women came at us.

My poor visor-wearing, knee high sock and sandal fashionisto dad froze and just put his hand on his back pocket to guard his wallet as one of the ladies attempted to yank the big ass video camera hanging from his shoulder. My mom tightens her grip on my hand, walks up to the lady, and slaps her across the face. Needless to say, they scattered pretty quickly after that.

bitch

My mom needs someone to take care of her, but when it comes to putting bitches in their place – she has no problem. Continue reading

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Newton’s Third Law of Motion

Hola,

After reading Holly’s last post “Do I have it all?  I was really inspired to self-reflect on my own view of marriage, relationships, and career aspirations. Exactly one year ago, I would have read that post–with my very favorite Lady Gaga quote — and I would’ve been raising my hand, sayin’ “Preach girl!. Dreams over D’s anyday.  Now, I’m not so sure I’m a believer.

After watching a lot of The Big Bang Theory, I think I’ve found a scientific way to express myself (Note: I almost failed Physics in high schoo) Remember Newton’s Laws of Motion?  I only remember one.

“For Every Action There is an Equal and Opposite Reaction”

And while this is true with everything that feels the pull of gravity, it is actually completely false in the world of relationships.  Part of that is obvious– if you love your man, chances are he doesn’t hate you back.

But the point is, you can love someone, and they may not love you back equally. They may not love you at all.

See how that violates physics? It is counter-intuitive, and completely out of our control. It is as if you pushed a door in, but the door pushed back with double the force– or with none at all (in both cases, you would be injured). I wish my boyfriend would like me as much as I like him, but chances are the perfect state of equilibrium… does not exist. And that is scary, and it makes both people vulnerable. 

I think women fear the inequality that’s inevitable with emotional reciprocity.

Its a mouthful, and it may not even make sense but let me break it down:

I don’t think women fear waking up to a man that doesn’t love them anymore. They fear waking up to a partner that does not feel the same way. And the knowledge that they can’t do anything about it.

A pink slip at work will never feel like the moment someone says, “I’m not in love with you”, and since that is true, a professional goal can never heal a personal injury.  Continue reading

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I Care Less About Beauty, I Just Want Pizza

Hey joons,

It’s been awhile – but I hope you’ve all had a chance to enjoy our wonderful new writers. They’re amaze-balls (I learned that word from Saaghi) and their posts rock so make sure you check it out. :)

Moving on …

I have a bone to pick with my fellow female joons – while I’m sure many men have similar qualities, I’m taking a little break from men right now (or rather, they’re taking a break from me…).

Women are continuously referred to as bossy and more emotional – we’re constantly fighting against the stereotype that our actions are somehow “weaker” than men’s.

Yet despite these fight backs, there are so many times that we embody the exact version of ourselves that we claim not to be.

pradaLet me give you a few examples:

1. The Damsel in Distress:

These dames aren’t just asking for help – they’re whining for it: “I don’t get it. Can you just do it for meeee?”

Omggg I can’t figure out what’s wrong with the printer… Help meeee.

I’ll be honest – I’m guilty of asking for help with the printer. Why can’t it just work all the time?

But personally, I think damsels are just lazy people. Are you really telling me that you can’t read an instruction manual? Continue reading

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Grabbing Balls

I recently read a “scientific” study that attempted to explain why, despite all the resistance to street harassment, “men” simply refuse to consider catcalls a serious problem. According to this report, some forlorn biological characteristic renders sexual attention, both sought and unsought for, appealing to men. For this reason, they argue, men don’t find street harassment and catcalls a problem despite the zillions of women explaining that it is.

far

Well, if this is science, and scientific explanations are the root of modernity, then I’m sure the majority of us would much rather remain primitive. Indeed, the past few weeks have showed how much women, and normal men, have rejected all excuses for sexual violence.

In case anyone has missed it, April was sexual violence awareness month.

On April 7th-13th, social media was buzzing with news and views about how women of the world may finally be able to walk about their streets in safety. Movements offline in the form of street protests also made an impressive show of their resistance to street harassment.

Perhaps what is more evident now than any other time is the fact, and yes it is a FACT, that sexual violence knows no borders, cultures or religion.

So next time someone tells you that harassment and rape are a “third world”, “Arab”, “South Asian” or “Muslim” phenomenon, you know that is absolute bullshit.

rape

Yet despite the existence of these inspiring movements around the world, the fact remains that until now, no form of protest seems capable of reducing the skyrocketing rates of sexual violence. Hell, we even have projects dedicated to “teaching men not to rape now” as a last desperate resort.

Which is why I will get back to my-cough- scientific study, and propose an experiment.

If men allegedly find unwanted sexual attention appealing, consider the following:

How many times have we as women, heard men exclaim, “I love pussy!” as they attempted one physical move or another while we walk past? What could happen if we in turn, started grabbing every guy’s balls as he walked past and told him that we all now “love balls”? Continue reading

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Magic Johnson & My Persian Dad

For the sake of this post, I’m going to explain the reason for my long absence ( did you even miss me?!)

At the beginning of this month, I suffered somewhat of a breakdown. Too much pressure, pent up and unreleased, can do that to you. I’m just one of those people that is hardest on herself, and too forgiving of everyone else. #RECIPEFORDISASTER

Soon after, I felt a lot of physical symptoms– Then I had a lump on my neck. Then two. Then six. My lymph nodes were swollen, but I had never experienced that before, so I rushed to the doctor — who told me not to worry, my body was fighting something and, I’d probably get better in a week. Days went by, and I just got worse.

Doctors were talking about ‘Mono’. Then Cancer. Then TB.  then back to Mono. And then…HIV.

Now, given, the Healthcare system in America is jacked, yet you still never want to hear the words ‘HIV’ and ‘AIDS’ and ‘possible’ in the same sentence. It really drove me crazy. Even though I knew it wasn’t the only possibility, the fact that it was on the table as a matter of discussion just made me nuts. I started to rewind the tape on my past, questioning everything and mentally slapping myself for it all.

image

When I got home, I overheard my parents talking about me in their room. I walked in and my Dad turned to me and said in Persian,

“Saaghi, tell me straight. Has there always been protection?” Continue reading

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Say My Name

Joons,

Yesterday I had brunch with my mama, and I can’t remember how this conversation started, but one moment she was suddenly asking me “Do you like your name?

Without even hesitating, I responded, “Yes! Of course!

She smiled and said, “I remember poring through a list of names and Naseem just stood out to me… it felt right. I knew you’d be a Naseem.”

Of course, I couldn’t always say that I loved my name…

There is a vivid memory floating around the back of my head that I desperately wanted to change my name to Kelly in second grade.

witness

How does an eight year old decide with such conviction at that age

“oh shit gotta change my name ASAP, brb?” 

(I remember why I wanted the name Kelly: one of my favorite waitresses at the chelokabobi in town was named Kelly, and baba and I frequented that place with all my amoo’s in tow on a weekly basis). I told my parents about this desire, and of course, they did not oblige my request.

Fast forward to the reckless and angsty age of fourteen, where identity crisis is unavoidable.  Imagine the extra heaping of namak on my puberty-ridden rage wounds of wondering “who the hell am I turning into” with a name like Naseem on top of all the ish you deal with as a teenager.

I hated my name and started asking people to call me Jennifer. Continue reading

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Friendly Kissing

Long time no speak joonies :) how you been?

Since I had a conversation with a friend last week, I’ve had this unanswerable question that’s become a Rubik’s cube inside my brain.

Can Two Friends share a kiss and somehow go back to being friends?

And I guess this goes back to, can you ever be friends with someone you’re attracted to? Or can a guy and a girl ever really be friends?  The girls who always hang out with guys will tell you: yes, you can be ‘just friends’ .  And guys with lots of girlfriends echo the same sentiment. But when you get into a relationship, all those ‘innocent friendships’ no longer seem so innocent to your significant other.

In fact, it’s more like a disaster waiting to happen….with enough time, alcohol, or dry spells.

And this does prove to be true time and time again, when Platonic Friends end up exchanging Kisses (or more) on a dance floor, or at a party, or even during an awkward moment in the car.

So after you cross the line with a friend, is the only way to save things is to start dating them? Risk finding out you actually can’t stand each other and dumping the friendship. Or is it to start a friends with benefits type thingy? This way you just move the line over and pretend you never crossed it.

Is the regular, good-old, friendship off the table?

Probably for awhile it is. Because it breaks down to three scenarios:

1) Unrequited feelings: One person wants more than a friendship, the other wants just that. And even if there’s some tongue action–there’s no relationship here.

2) Benefit Friends: Even if both parties are down, this is messy. Think about it like this– the more clothes come off, the deeper you’re burying the “friendship”.

You cannot be Friends and Sleep together. Continue reading

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

Hi Joonies.

Every time I blog, I rack my brain of something really witty to start a post off with. I can’t say it ever really works, but I’m just going to leave it to someone waaay more talented to give me an intro:

There are three things I value most in life:

1. My Family

2. Flaming Hot Cheetos

3. My Friends, a.k.a. Meth

(Sorry guys, Chester Cheeto has been there for me through errrthang)

I have all different sorts of Meth –tall, short, persian, not persian, etc. I love them all to pieces. And they’re all different types of crazy.  But what I’ve learned the hard way is:

Crazy is a much better adjective than Toxic.

I’ve had a few of those Poisonous Frenemies in my life, and I’m sure I’ll come across a few more. Unfortunately, it is the curse of friendship, you get a few bad eggs every season. Now, I have to point out that the difference between a BAD friend and a Toxic friend is very clear:

A Bad Friend is bad at friendship, a toxic friend makes friendship bad for you.

A Bad Friend is:

- Unreliable, Flaky, Selfish, A bad listener & Oblivious

But they’re not malicious. A bad friend is that one friend you have that you know

always talks about herself and her problems, and looks off into the sky when it is your chance to talk.

I usually have bad friends out of unfortunate or forced circumstances: work, family, mutual connection etc.

A Toxic Friend is:

- Jealous, Competitive, Insecure, Unhappy & Conniving

If a person possesses 4/5 above qualities, you won’t catch me near them–even with a ten foot pole.

Misery loves company, and those people really want you to join them. Continue reading

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