Fakeroids: The Annoying Zombie Plague

Intense, Crazy Wired, Hip, Retarded

Dear "Mr. My Fake Shades Make me Better than You",

You may not remember me, but fate briefly introduced us when you decided that your intake of red bull justified annoying me. I wish I could remember your name, but it's rather a blur. It's not that I didn't enjoy your fake American-British encrusted accent or your expertise in decadent frivolities (no, I didn't know that 'Rambo' center was where all the cool people hung out and my life was better for it).  I'll even go as far as to concede that I found your caffeine frothing threats to 'BBM' me from your Chinese Blueberry cell completely amusing. Fact: The Chinese made Blackberry don't have Blacberry Messenger.

Drinking Coffee Makes Me Cool

Now, I don't mind the average person pounding 12 Red bull cans a day, but must you insist on running up to strangers and telling us how 'Crazy Wired' you are? There is a gaping chasm to what is cool, and what is woefully pathetic. You're not on the right side of the chasm. The silly stunts don't help either. As for me, I can drink a red bull and go straight to bed.

It's wonderful to meet such wannabe cultured souls whose love for all things "Areamani" (yes you read right) define their existence, and to be with fair, half the population is illiterate. And no one can be more persistently stylish than our fashionista Fakeroids. however, it is with great regret that I must point out that most of us can tell the difference between Areamani and Armani. It's something to do with being functionally literate I imagine.

The floods have devastated people's lives ... please don't try to equate it to the misery you feel when your servant left to rebuild his waterlogged ancestral village, nor is it a particularly tasteful excuse to attend 'charity' events, primarily to complain how the rich folk aren't doing their part to help the flood victims, all whilst gulping down 375 rupee coffee (You'd magnanimously donate the 25 rupee change, of course). That's the cost of a weeks rations for a small family. If you like, I have the receipts to prove it, they may seem unfamiliar since they aren't from the high end stores (Aghas/Epcos) you're used to frequenting.

I love me some intellectual debate

The Fakeroids have deemed unemployment to be devastatingly in vogue, I mean how else would Mummy and Daddy feet utterly grateful for the delight that they are privileged enough to replenish the holy wardrobe...  Particularly when an Armani pants costs the equivalent of the country's GDP per Capita.

Indoors, Shades, Girl passed out on me. Quick. TAKE A PICTURE....Who is the $#%$# Random Guy?

With great apology, I must point out that because your esteemed plain black sequined pants (which you got from Zainab market) because they look just like the pair that Paris Hilton once wore, doesn't mean make you a fashion icon or a size zero.....and no, a corset won't help. Cutting down on the ice cream might. I'd also appreciate the opportunity to gently point out that Paris Hilton rose to fame because of things other than her sense of fashion.

Cute Pup Laden With Jewelry that's going to get it Killed

Does your dog really have to wear ruby encrusted shoes that cost as much as the annual GDP of Balochistan?I love dogs as much as the next person, which is why I encourage everyone to vote. And no, liking a politician's facebook profile because it rhymes with 'VersaCHEE' doesn't count.

Now, as much as you love to prance into Coffee houses demanding the most complex pretentious drink known to man (asking for yak milk in your cappuccino much?), the rest of the 'we're drinking our damn coffee' republic doesn't care how well traveled you are or how Pares (Um...Paris) is just like Iceland (that habit of smirking and insisting Pares that's where all Parsi's come from and that Ice was invented in Iceland gets on my nerves too). At this point, the audience at large is unlikely to be impressed by your opinions on the state of Karachi either, particular if you've never been past Hotel Metropole because it is kacha abbadi and there are no good cafe's past there.

I don't care how well you know ANY of these people. 

The Fakeroids seem to live some charmed existence, the only indication they have that there is some modicum of unrest in the city is when Espresso shuts down for the day; which translates into a calamity ofcourse. But it is certainly a lovely chance to play 'oooh the roads are empty (minus the mob) look how fast I can drive my car.'

Please don't pretend that all of your clothes are khaadi; knock offs lack a certain something....usually referred to as tags. the flimsy quality is a dead giveaway too. But don't fret, you can buy another before the color starts to run.

Just because we can tell, doesn't mean you have to take drastic measures

I would never say that my wearing original Ray Beans shades makes me better than you, I'm far too cultured and polite for that. However, if a Fakeroid insists on trying to pass off their collection of 100 rupee shades whilst expertly proclaiming that my shades are obviously fake, I must insist that they carry a receipt, warranty and a letter from the manufacturer with them at all times. Think of it as a 'put up or shut up' badge of honor.

My Mistake, you don't actually have to say 'Do you Want Fries with that' to Work at McDonalds

So, Fakeroids, be who you are, be proud of it. You think that you're a Snob, but what you really are is a bun kebab who really wants to be a wannabe burger....hell, even they don't want to claim you. Rest easy, and learn how to say 'would you like fries with that'.

And don't bug me again, my time is valuable, I actually have to work to make a living and pay taxes to ensure that others don't.

Person who'll gladly use your fake Lacoste Polo to clean his Kenneth Cole Boots

PS: You know who you are.

Taliban Fight Club

The Taliban seem like a very frustrated lot, whether they are in Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq or anywhere in the world. They have so much hate and ideological madness, I think it would be remiss if we as a society didn't come up with a creative solution to address their mental issues. Because wanting to be a suicide bomber ought to be officially diagnosed as a mental disorder. 

So here is my idea, Taliban Fight Club. Because there is nothing more satiating to madmen than beating someone till your arms are tired, your lips are bloody, body is bruised and you've lost so many brain cells that you can't remember what the fight was about in the first place (Hey, it worked for the Spartans), incidentally a Taliban rugby league wouldn't be amiss either.

Obviously there would have to be rules, terms and conditions that will shape the landscape of the bouts:

1. No beard tugging; Taliban typically use the space to store their weed and Mars bars...respect.

2. No weapons or safety pads allowed (including improvised explosive devices), however groin cups are permissible, but at no point can be used as a weapon; hence the Upward Thrust knockout (UT KO) move illegal.

3. Adequate clothing must be worn at all times; Taliban are highly self conscious over their jungle like body hair.

4. There will be 70 attractive Burka wearing cheerleaders (spread across nationalities to cater to differing tastes), however, they will only reveal their modest amounts of clothing if and only if the Taliban contestant win the bout. (At which point they'll realize that they don't need to die to go to heaven) 

5. Chuck Norris is not allowed to participate....ever. (There are conflicting fatwas on Chuck Norris being a demon)

6. Fights will incorporate prayer breaks to cater to multiple faiths. Islamic history does show that devout Muslim Generals praying on the field of battle, during hostilities. 

7. Male contestants eligible for "Beauty and the Geek" are encouraged to apply; Taliban are notoriously malnourished (lack of post weed munchies....hence the compensatory large beards and bulked up clothing favored by the Legions of T.... its not a fashion statement). We are looking for an uber awesome contest and there is nothing more awesome than seeing a geek unleash his inner demon and unleash his fists of fury....on that note, Go Spider Man! 

Hell, if it catches on it could even be a reality show in itself, take the contestants from the biggest loser and Jersey shore and have them fight it out. Or we could model it off the WWE/TNA and use real or real'ish people. 

I even have some snazzy Pay-per-view ideas

1. No Way Out (To be held in Tora Bora or Guantanamo, which ever is cheaper)

2. Turbans, Laces & Coke (To be held in the FBI's evidence locker or Columbia; laces to be made of Kevlar and turbans designed by Hermes, Coke will preferably be local)

3.  Hell is my Cell (Any Afghani or Iraqi prison will do)

4. Ragging Rights (Madison Square garden, fighters have to make their opponents submit by humiliating them verbally... on the spot translation will be available)

5. Battle of the Beards (to coincide with the Beard Olympics) Beards can be used as weapon to whip lash, choke etc. Person whose beard gets ripped of his (or her) face first wins.

This would also be super profitable and all proceeds can be used to rebuild Afghanistan and Iraq.