HUMAN WRITES | 2 Years ago...

A. These people are going to hell:
1- One who knows how to design but doesn't know Photoshop
2- A programmer who knows where the bug is, but just doesn't give a shit just because thinks it unlikely would cause a problem

B. These people are now in hell:
1- One who expect programmers to give shit about all the bugs

C. These poeple are not in hell:
1- Poeple who are already aware that they're in hell

Now if you just found a bug in this article, which is if nobody's aware what a hell is, so who gives a damn whether one's in hell or what, you're in hell too. You just don't know it.

And now if you don't find a bug in this article nor having any idea what the hell I'm saying, don't worry, you're not in hell, cause you don't even exist.

Me? Well, I'm in hell big time, I'm comfortable with it. But according to the part "C" everytime I realize that I'm in hell, I'm not in hell anymore and then after some fucked up stories I get back to hell. Kind of Hell/Not-Hell cycle. I'm comfortable with it too.

SWEET HOME ARIZONA! | 2 Years ago...

 - "So, which state are your mother from?" 

That was a question that I was actually expecting after I dodged being questioned about which state I'm from by mentioning that my father was Iranian. And as long as I was the only one person in the USA stall whilst everybody else had left for the lunch, the fact that my both sides are Iranian would have definitely trigger another question like "So what the fuck are you doing here in the American stall?" by that clergyman; who was by the way, so excited to finally meet an American in person who he can literally say "Down With You" to, in person. Instantly, Phoenix Arizona popped into my head, the place that I would have chosen to be born in if I were a nicer friend of God:

 - "Phoenix, Arizona Sir! You know, ultra-hot classic cactus deserts and flat road-trips by a Pontiac 1988 with a Phoenix shadow on the hood! By the way, have you ever been to America, sir?"

Mostly, people don't know if they love America or they hate America. They're so unbalanced on this love/hate edge; just waiting for someone to push them one of those sides. That's why I tried to make my first impression effectively pleasant, by asking him if he's been to US before, although I knew the answer was definitely "No", but it would always redirect the conversation to the way I want.

- "No! You [Americans] never let us [Iranians/Clergymen] get there!"  He answered with an ironic smile, while tapping on my shoulder.

 - "It's a shame that we've missed the honor, Sir!"  (Which I said in Farsi: "MA GHABEL NISTIM, GHORBAN!")

 and it made a perfect sense, bulls-eye, he started laughing out loud. The hardest part was done: the ice was broken. It didn't take more than 10 minutes of talking about American/Iranian game that he gave me his card, WOW! Deputy of Scientific Research in "Hozeh"  (Almost the biggest religious school in the world located in Qom, IR) And finally when we shook hands and I sincerely invited him to Phoenix (!), I couldn't see the hate in his eyes anymore.

And, this was the story of me,  being [literally] the first ambassador of the United States in Iran after the hostage crisis! It started when a friend of mine, asked me to participate in an exhibition of the foreign students in Iran, representing their country's culture, food, fashion etc. Not so hard to guess that it was the US stall that I was invited to. Actually, I really had to write a 20 pages article about the incredible things that happened to me, unbelievably amazing people that I met, craziest thing that I did and the way that the whole thing changed my life. But while I'm too Shirazi [lazy] to write about the stuff and besides it would be involved with lots of political and security issues, I'm not gonna give you a headache.

One thing else, it recently occurred to me how goddamn small this world is. It's is crazy...

P.S. We've got a very small stall first, and there were lots of people/stuff to put in there which were pretty impossible to fit. So we asked for a bigger stall and the answer was No. Then we noticed that the biggest stall, which was still empty, was reserved for the Palestinians; and guess what? We changed the stall labels and 'occupied' the Palestinians' stall!! You see Israelis? We pay our sues to you guys, even in Islamic Republic of Iran!!!

P.S. For God's sake, please please don't take it seriously!

One Bourbon, one scotch, one beer | 2 Years ago...

 - Sir, it's almost empty, how can I help you?
 - OK, well, give me a cash form please!

 For a moment, that young attractive bank-lady looked straight into my eyes, taking her second to figure out if either I didn't understand what she already said or I was some kind of Oliver Twist or something.

 - So you want to withdraw all of them?
 - Oh! No, of course not, but... well... can I?

 When I stepped out of the bank door with like 8 bucks in my hand, I was realized that it wasn't really the most embarrassing thing I've ever done in my life: Because I could create a pure moment of fun for one of the other days of that bank-lady. Although if she wouldn't had appreciated the funny side my story, I would had had to walk all the way back home!  The story of me, moving to Tehran and living alone in a 12m room.  With absolutely no plan, no job, no money.

 From the last whiney posts of my took-ages-to-update blog, you could probably realize that I didn't really have a good day for like a year. With the whole project balls-up thing, London trip and stuff. I was totally stuck in my life. Really couldn't do anything but being a boring miserable screen-saver for my mom. In these cases, you'd probably commit a suicide.  Ok, so isn't that "dying"� like just stop being what and where you already are, and suddenly be somewhere that you have no idea about? I decided to commit a suicide myself; without necessarily killing myself. I suddenly move to Tehran after a friend's suggestion to participate in her stall at the bookfair; So I stayed.

 Turing into a whiney person is a very dangerous thing. Because it's not like a phase that eventually passes away, but you start to get used to it, going deeper and deeper and you sort of enjoying it. You keep pitying yourself. There's no way out for years, except you commit a suicide. Of course actual suicide is much more interesting, cuz it doesn't have a CTRL-Z key to undo when you got stuck in a deeper shit in the new after death world! But now I'm still able to make it back to mom's house the second I gave up.

 Well, did it work? Honestly, besides somebody doesn't pick up the phone, I'm having like my best days in my life. Maybe someday soon I'd be able to manage the whole mess of my life, but at the moment, I'm happy, I don't give a damn.