New Blog People...Feel Free to Stop By...

http://fightingthefatat40.blogspot.com/

Ive started a new blog to help me get my shit together and lose some of this weight. I pine for the days when I was fit and healthy and able to run a flight of stairs or even bend over and tie my shoes without having a major breakdown.

Some people drink, others do drugs...and still others smoke. I have never been able to point my finger at them and shame them for their "addictions" because Im suffering from my own addiction...it is food....and I want to quit.

Please join me over there as I need copious amounts of encouragement and ass kicking to get me through it. Im like that. I need a star chart with lots of handclapping and a few ooh's and aah's. Feel free to do both if and when necessary.

June 1, 2009...I hope its the start of something good.

Do I Have Your Royal Word on That?

Imagine my surprise early last week when I received a call from someone, while pretty damn famous and well known here in Bahrain, is not someone that generally calls me. How she, or should I say her office, got my mobile number remains a mystery...but considering who she is Im sure thats not much of a problem...anyways...

Now heres the thing...her office called ME...me. Apparently it came to their attention that I could use some help in my life at the moment as a single mom of 5 kids (important that they are Bahraini kids I might add) dealing with a crappy hand at the moment...remember...THEY called ME. Just so Im clear on that.

Now the lady on the phone was very nice...taking some information from me...asking about our situation etc. No problem. The generosity of strangers has saved me more than once recently....so the phone call itself didnt surprise me but the person calling did (or who she represented any how)...defintely did.

I was still getting over my shock at discovering who was calling me when she signed off with a promise to "help me" and would "get back to me shortly".

Now heres my question. I will not name names here so this is a general sort of question...but when it comes to "get back to me shortly" does that mean different things to different people? How short is shortly?

One week later and I havent heard back from this office. Now ordinarily I would take these sort of phone calls and offers of help with a grain of salt because, believe me, Ive received offers of help, jobs, money...whatever with seemingly the utmost of sincerity...only to discover later it didnt mean as much to them as it meant to me. You would have to be someone desperately needing something to understand that feeling of powerlessness at obtaining that "thing" you need...regardless of what it is. Invariably those offers, while received by me with abundant hope and thankfulness, ended up dwindling away like so much dust. Which resulted in the person offering the help to suddenly be unavailable to my calls and avoiding me when they seen me coming...ok...whatever. Im not going to hang it over someones head if they 'CANT help me...but I surely do wish people wouldnt make the offer if they have no intention of following through....

Hope dashed is worse then no hope at all sometimes...believe me...I know.

Anyhow, back to this office...now I understand that this ladies office is definitely in a position to help me. Its not a question of money or ability on their side...a simple phonecall or recommendation on my behalf and...walah!! ...people would be falling all over themselves to jump and do as commanded...it really would have to be that easy. Some people just have that certain sense of "royalty" about them...if you know what I mean.

Sooooo....Im sort of wondering why a week has gone by and no word back. I might sound greedy and impatient to some out there reading this...and I suppose considering who the office represents I cant help but get a few stars in my eyes about the possibilities (Ive heard in the past the sort of "help" offered by just such offices)...but really...THEY CALLED ME...so its not like I wrote a letter begging for help or used some wasta to get a special favour on my behalf. I wouldnt even know how to go about doing that...seriously. I just cant imagine it would take a whole week for something to be done...whatever that something was. Im just saying...not even a phone call back to let me know "its being worked on" or something....sigh!

Anyhow, I expect this sort of thing from "ordinary" people as they say...because sometimes people offer help with the best of intentions and then realize later they really cant follow through. Ok...I understand. I wont hold it against you if I feel it was a genuine offer on your part...just a little ambitious. Those people that offer with NO intention of following through...well hell...why even bother yourself? I wish you would just keep your promises to yourself...my children and I dont need that sort of wishful thinking in our lives at this point...

but those that CALL ME and offer to help me...and are obviously in a position to do so with no obstacles...then dont bother to get back to me...seriously...WHY? What did you get out of it...or hope to accomplish with that phonecall? Just wondering.

Now, I realize its only been a week...not a whole lot of time passed to warrant my irritation I suppose...but hey...when a stroke of a pen, a phone call, or a "royal" request is made...by certain people in society...it cant take more than...say.... 5 mins...half a day...a whole day??? to get it done...can it?

For myself, seriously, Im use to people and how they can be...dont get me started...but I made the mistake of mentioning the phonecall to my kids...wish I hadnt...nuff said on that.

Like I said...does "get back to you shortly" mean different things to different people?

I shall ponder whether I should practice more patience...or just chalk it up to "shit happens" and be done with it...what do ya think people?

VIP Look From Top of World Trade Tower

My friend and I were meeting a potential business partner at the World Trade Tower here in Bahrain and he took us up to the top for a special viewing. Its not complete at the top yet so we had to step around construction work etc...but well worth it for the view.





My ears were popping as I believe there are 44 floors to this building. Thats the British Embassy down there...once of the oldest buildings in Bahrain. And the only bit of green that adds up to much.








My phone cam takes some pretty awesome pics ...for a phone cam. Nokia E66








Its hard to open your eyes up there as the sun is soooo damn bright...and everything is blinding. Thats the Sheraton Complex down there. Pool looks refreshing.











The cars look like matchbox toys...so cute!!!









Water looks refreshing from up here...down there its just dirty and not at all inviting...ugh!! And so much garbage along the beaches generally.









Swan dive time!!!









Sort of like looking out of a huge fishbowl. We are only one floor under the roof. A tiny little office not big enough for much considering the crazy rent Im sure they will have to pay. Very cool anyhow.

I sure didnt expect to be "on top of the world" or at least Bahrain when I woke up that morning. Something interesting to remember...cool.

My Boy, My Hero!!! pt 3

So, here we are once again. For those who have missed out, check out the two previous postings to catch up. (Im lazy to link at the moment).

We finally arrived at the health center only to be faced with a nurse that seemed unable to treat me adequately because of my weight.( Im no slim chicken but then again Im not immobile from weight...Im a size 20 to 22 depending on my last meal...sigh.) However, she kept going on and on about my size claiming she was unable to insert an IV because I was fat, she was unable to get my blood pressure because I was fat...unable to draw blood properly because...you got it...I was too fat. Then she made the medically sound declaration that my recent spate of intense vomiting was due to fast food and I should just cut that out right now...and I would be fine. She was all set to send me home with Panadol, more Maalox, and a kick in the ass for daring to be fat when a doctor happened to stroll in curious to see what was up. (why a doctor hadnt been called previously...I dont know...Im just the victim...I mean patient).

By this time, I might add, the husband had showed up demanding to know what had been done, what was wrong with me etc. He and the doc came in just about the same time. Doc checked me over, pressed on my abdomen...and declared I could either go home with the meds prescribed (by the nurse no less) or go to the emergency room at the main hospital if I felt that was called for...(if I felt like it was called for mind you...not him).

Well, hmmmm, lets see. Serious SERIOUS pain, vomiting like nobody's business, sweating a rainforest, and there was that whole "alien wanting to get out of my body" business to think about ...so yes...Im thinking I do feel like I should go to the emergency room.

The doc offered to let the Health Centers ambulance take me there...what a nice gesture...sure why not. Ambulances are allowed to cut through traffic and red lights and get you there in no time flat....much easier and saves lives...or so Ive heard.

I watch tv...dont laugh.

Now, I had never required a ride in an ambulance before that day (thank God) so my only experience with it was what I had seen on tv regarding procedure etc. You know, trained paramedics bustling around, getting you loaded on a gurney, taking your vitals, speaking in a radio to the hospital informing them of your arrival etc....oh yeah...strapping you down on the gurney so you dont fall out...things like that...very professional and all.

Here is what I got. I had to get my sick ass off the table and up onto the gurney as the two ambulance looking type guys gave me verbal encouragement. (no hands on help over here I guess) My husband had disappeared after the doctor so wasnt there to lend a hand. I was loaded into the ambulance in which the gurney was strapped in...but not me. The door was closed and we took off.

I say we as in the driver and I because for all I knew we were the only two people in the ambulance. Nobody was back there with me. My husband had been told we were off to the hospital emergency room so he left on his own.

Now on a good day (light traffic etc) it takes about 20 minutes to get to the hospital from the health center...thats without being in an ambulance with a siren wailing etc. With traffic obviously more...but just how much more boggles the mind. I have learned over the years here in Bahrain that people really do not care about seeing an ambulance with lights and siren on in their rearview mirror. They wont make any attempt to move...and the ambulance ends up stuck in traffic right along with everyone else. I have lost count of the number of times I have moved out of the way only for cars behind me to quickly jump forward and fill the gap rather than let the ambulance through. Its disgusting...and now I was inside one needing to get to the hospital. My husband informed me later that it took us about 40 minutes to arrive there....it doesnt take 40 minutes to get from Hidd to Hamad Town (a city down south in Bahrain).

Meanwhile, if you have ever wondered what it would feel like to be inside an ambulance lying on a gurney and seriously sick...and NOT have any sort of belt etc to hold you in safely...if your wondering what that would feel like...let me tell you....its like being inside a washing machine. Bahrain is full of round abouts (circular type intersections)...not to mention just very very bad driving standards...and so between the driver hitting the brakes frequently, going around round abouts every few moments, and dealing with irate drivers not wanting to get out of the way...I was left on my own to prevent myself from falling out onto the floor.

So picture this. Me, seriously sick. Hijab askew, no strength... trying to pathetically brace myself against the sides etc everytime we traversed a round about so I wouldnt add insult to injury and find myself face first on the floor.

This went on for a good 35 minutes (based on what my husband said as we arrived at the hosp soon there after) when I vomitted once again leaning my head over and letting it hit the floor rather than myself. It was then that I realized there was in fact someone else back there with me as a hand swiftly came out with some towels and wiped up the mess.

WTF!!! Im killing myself trying not to fall down, Im sick, tired, ready to call it a day...and thinking Im actually alone so trying to make the best of it and be patient...and the whole time there was a man sitting somewhere up by my head (I think the hijab swimming around constantly in my face actually blocked me from seeing him or even being aware he was there)...but still...he KNEW I was there and did nothing to help me...until I threw up on his clean floor....ARRRRRGH!!!

I would have chewed him out at this point but we arrived at last...to my hoped for salvation...yaay!!! Everyone cheer...this is good news! Or is it?

The TWO ambulance guys (I realized that since there were two at the health center then there were two all along...but since I had other things to think about it didnt cross my mind that there was in fact someone in there other than the driver...and since he wasnt doing anything for me...who can blame me) pushed me inside and just before leaving me on an emergency bed...patted my leg and gave me some platitudes about "be patient and everything will turn out fine"..yeah...thanks...appreciate the sincerity. Anyways...

I was finally at the hospital where hopefully all would be made right again...except for one thing...I was completely alone and would remain so for at least 20 minutes. No nurse, no doctor...just a few curious bystanders taking a good look at the obvious distressed western woman but not offering any sage advice or help...sigh!!! My husband finally tracked me down after discovering the drivers and asking them where they had left me.

I might add that on tv when ambulance drivers bring a patient...they are always calling out info to the docs...cause of injury...stats...things like that. In other words, giving the docs a heads up as to what they were facing. None of that happened with me. A pat on the leg and away they went...of course there was no doctor to fill in anyhow....or nurse...so what were they to do?

Husband went off to track down a doc and drag him back (which he literally had to do I found out later). This IS the emergency room right...in a very large

hospital...the MAIN hospital for Bahrain where all emergency cases go? hmmm?

While alone I felt the rising need to vomit once again...I turned my head to look around but there wasnt anything available to receive my "gift" and so ended up leaning over the bed and extending my gift to the floor (I was so embarrassed to do that for some reason...dont ask me why...there it is). I figured that because I had been vomitting all morning...had ate nothing previously...that the contents of my stomach were pretty much expelled. So imagine my surprise and utter shock when I enacted a scene from The Exorcist and spewed out a shit load of green vomit...at least a gallon of it...no lie!!! The whole floor in my cubicle was absolutely covered in it.

The curious bystanders now had something a little more interesting to look at since the novely of ME had worn off to some extent.

I might add that it was about at this point that I was very thankful indeed that I did not have diarreha to deal with as well...see...silver linings in every trauma.

Within a few minutes after that fun experience the husband showed up literally dragging a doctor (actually had his white jacket clenched up in his fist)...the doc took one long look at me...had a serious thoughtful moment to contemplate the nice piece of artwork on the floor (courtesy of me), listened for a brief explanation from the husband about my wonderful morning so far...and declared that my pancreas was about to rupture and I needed emergency treatment...

Gee! Ya think?!!!

Long story short (as if) I spent 10 days in hospital. Was informed by, what I refer to as a REAL doctor, that had I suffered much longer I would probably have died...it was that close.

Ok ok....here is the truly appalling aspect of this whole ordeal. Never mind the two ladies that delayed me so long with some erroneous belief that my "modesty" was more important than my emergency...never mind the bitchy nurse that insisted her incompetence was due to my weight...never mind the traumatic ambulance ride courtesy of inefficient ambulance workers....the one thing that pisses me off more than all of that is ...all of this could have been avoided if each and everyone of the doctors I had visited over the past year had actually taken the time to listen to me and hear what I was saying...because I was telling them EXACTLY what was wrong with me and they still had no clue.

While in hospital the doctors who cared for me informed me that not only had my pancreas been suffering for quite awhile but that my gall bladder would need removing because of the prolonged assualt without treatment. It was getting set to explode on me...my pancreas acting up and nearly causing my death was the only thing that brought my gall bladder into the spotlight...not one of those doctors I had previously visited had ever even mentioned my gall bladder or pancreas to me..not once.

Now heres the "funny" bit that pisses me off. Once I realized what was wrong with me as soon as I got home I looked up pancreas and gall bladder disorders etc. Under pancreatitis are almost word for word the exact symptoms I had been listing to my doctors again and again....painful to lay down...feels better when I sit up (which meant I was attempting to sleep sitting up more often then not)...felt like this...acted like that...occurred most often when I did this or that etc...WORD FOR WORD people. It was right there in black and white...with pictures no less.

I was in shock!!! Its not like I had some obscure illness that had doctors scratching their heads and doing countless tests and exams trying to figure out this medical conundrum...I had a fairly common (not common as in everyone has it...common as in its well known medically) illness that with even a bit of question asking...examinations or tests etc...would have been diagnosed and treated.

Instead I got buckets of maalox and addictive painkillers...and I almost died.

Unfortunately, malpractice medical lawsuits are almost unheard of here...and because patient medical records are sketchy at best (at least in health centers for expats etc and from my personal experience) there really was no way to be compensated for this gross case of negligence and medical malpractice.

I survived...thank God...but you can understand now why I am extremely leary with all things medical in this country.

My 3 year son acted more responsibly then all those others I had the misfortune of crossing paths with that day...for that...he is my hero!!!

btw my spell check is not working...I apologize for any missed corrections as well as the spacing so forgive me for the long paragraphs once again.

My Boy, My Hero!!! pt 2

So...where was I?



Oh yes, Boo had finally gotten the door open and my two Yemeni neighbors came bustling in looking around to see where I was (and I do believe checking out the cleanliness of my house...they were sticklers for being neat). They found me lying on the floor in obvious pain and distress. My clothes were soaked...the floor was covered in vomit and I was in agony curled up in a ball.



Now, Ive never required emergency hospital treatment in the states so I cant say with authority exactly what the procedure entails...in Bahrain (or at least in my house and on the way to the hosp on that particular day) it consisted of a series of events that nearly led to my potential death.



So there I was laying on the floor...very very happy to see my "rescuers" and quite ready to be rescued...however...they had a few things they felt needed doing before they could cart me off to the hosp apparently.



Let me first say that while my understanding of Arabic is fairly decent for the most part...when it comes to Yemeni Arabic they might as well be speaking Swahili...I havent a clue...which means the lack of communication this particular day added a great deal of stress to an all ready stressful situation.



First of all, they took one look at my house clothes and decided they just wouldnt do for an emergency trip to the hosp. So much for the...get her in the car as fast as you can cause obviously she needs hosp treatment ASAP!!!...oh no...I needed a makeover first before they were satisfied to get me moving out the door.



So try and picture this comedy of errors that preceded my being saved at the proverbial last minute by, for once in my case, a flurry of attentive doctors.



First the two ladies tried wrestling me into an abaya. I was at that time wearing an abaya that was pulled over the head...so they attempted to get my abaya on (which can be a bit of a struggle at the best of times) by fair means or foul...but Im by no means a light weight. Ive got some jiggle that needs to be dealt with and its a chore all by itself when Im completely concious and have all my abilities at my control...mix that excess poundage with legs of jelly and a half comatose mental state...plus two rather diminutive sized women ...and ...well...you can imagine what sort of tragic dance ensued.



About an eon later when they finally had me all properly abayed I felt a sense of relief that cannot be measured...finally we were ready to get out the door. Yalla! Im ready...lets go.



They were not done yet. They felt I still needed a little something something before I was ready. I might add that I was still wracked with pain...still vomiting now and then...still sweating sweat the size of rain drops...and still pretty much out of it...so they did what must have seemed like the most natural thing to do under these emergency conditions...they now attempted to put my hijab on. (I still wore one then as well...and this incident was one of the deciding factors that eventually led me to remove it...among others).



So...for any woman that has ever worn the hijab you will know that it can be a bit tricky when YOU are the one putting it on...arranging it...and maybe even pinning it....so for someone else to put it on you (while your practically comatose I might add) Im sure is something has to be seen to be appreciated for its slapstick comedy appeal.



Now considering I was the victim to all this fashion policing....and a very sick and very pitiful one at that...I cant say for sure just how long these ladies took to get my hijab on in a satisfactory manner that was pleasing to them. (they were niqabis themselves so were quite happy to try and introduce me to the joys of not being able to see where Im going at that particular moment)...I feebly attempted to let them know that I was more than happy to forego the "modesty "of hijab...just this once...in order to facilitate my speedy arrival at the health center....but they didnt understand...or chose not to...so Im thinking it must have been a week at least before my hijab was in place (more or less) and we were finally headed out the door. Me sandwiched between these two women that turned out to be surprisingly strong for their size. (they had to be to get me to the car...sigh...now wheres that gym membership form)



So fiiiiinally we were in the car of one of their husbands...me slouching in the back seat vaguely aware that Boo was in there with me...wondering if I was actually going to die on this particular day considering the pain was unrelenting and growing by the minute...and that I had Lucille Ball and her sidekick in complete control of my immediate future.



I dont know how they drive in Yemen...but from my experience having my very own Yemeni driver that day I would hazard a guess and say they drive extremely sloooooowly. No need to worry I didnt observe certain safety precautions...I might die from whatever alien was currently trying to vacate my chest...but I would not die from my failure to wear my seatbelt...small blessings and all that.



Hindsight tells me I started feeling the first stirrings of pain around 9:30 am...about 45 minutes had passed before I attempted to call husband...when we arrived at the health center it was nearly noon as I heard the adhan playing and the health center is only 5 minutes from my house....soooooo...it took those ladies approximately an hour...maybe a little more...to dress me "appropriately" before deciding I was good to go.



So...we arrived at the health center. Yay!! You would think that was a good thing for someone like me...you know...seriously sick and all.



Think again.

*to be continued

My Boy, My Hero!!! pt 1

This is my boy...my baby. He's 11 now but in this pic he's about 3. His name is Jibreel...or Boo for short. When he was 3 years old he saved my life. Picture this...

For about a year prior to the day he saved my life I had been back and forth to the doctors with severe chest pains. We are talking mammoth gargantuan kill me now chest pains!! Everytime I went to the hospital they would "diagnose" me with acid reflux and prescribe maalox and pain medication...and send me home.

It got to the point that I could barely take a bite of anything before that impending feeling of a freight train of agony coming on that would signal that I was in for anything from 15 minutes to 2 hours of serious killer pain...and there wasnt anything I could do about it. I was drinking gallons of maalox...downing pain pills like an addict...sometimes it worked and kept most of the pain at bay but usually I was left curled up in a fetal position, rocking myself and trying to meditate until it passed. It got to the point where I was reluctant to leave the house fearing I would have an attack while outside and would be helpless to stop it. Numerous trips to the doctors describing my symptoms etc only resulted in more of the same...maalox and pain medication with recommendations to cut down on spicy foods...yeah...I'll do that.

I didnt have the internet back then so google wasnt available to help out and the library was a joke...I had nothing to use to figure out what my problem was (obviously the doctors were not helpful). I was afraid to eat anything but just a few select foods...and I was almost housebound (even more than my asshat husband forced me to be).

It all came to a head one day in which I almost died....but first a little more back story.

My 3 year old son had recently discovered that he could act like Houdini and escape out the front door the moment I turned my back...so I would carefully lock the door as soon as everyone was off to work or school each morning. Then he discovered how to operate the key so I had to hang the key over the door out of his reach. Soon he discovered how to knock the key down...so I was forced to hide the key (when I wasnt wearing something with pockets). I could always see him searching diligently in the shoes and on the tables etc looking for the key every morning. I actually had to change locations on several occasions because he managed to sniff it out...the little bloodhound. On the day in question I had hung the key in my bedroom behind the door on a nail. (careful not to let him see me put it there...he was quite a sneak)

So I was busy cleaning house, he was running around playing...then I felt that familiar ache starting to build. I quickly downed some pain pills to catch it before it caught hold...and chugged some maalox (I didnt even bother to measure out a dose...just swallowed it down)...and hoped for the best...but expected the usual.

I got a hell of a lot more than the usual.

Before long I was sitting crosslegged on the couch rocking back and forth doing my best to meditate and ignore the pain. Things were quite different this time though...I was sweating bullets...it was pouring down my body like rain and I was burning up...on fire!!! Not only did my chest feel like it was burning from internal acid...it felt like some kind of alien was trying to fight its way out of my chest.

It was the absolute worst pain I had ever endured.

I eventually realized that it wasnt going to pass this time and decided it was time to call the husband. I stood up to go to the phone and immediately collapsed on the floor. I tried to get up again but felt like I was paralyzed...I could barely move my arms enough to push myself up. I tried dragging myself across the floor but I felt like a limp rag...no strength at all. I laid on the floor in agony wandering what the hell to do. Not only couldnt I move...I had a 3 year old running around that could get into some kind of danger...and I was helpless to protect him.

Boo came over to me at this point all concerned that something was wrong with me. He even tried pulling on me I guess in his little attempts to get me up...Mommy on the floor crying and helpless was not part of his usual routine. It was then that I thought of telling him to bring me the phone. (no mobiles back then). He eagerly ran for the phone and carefully carried it across the floor to me...unfortunately the wire wasnt long enough to reach me and try as I might I could not move myself across the floor. The pain was enormous and debilitating.

Now remember my son was 3 and up to this point I had already started teaching him numbers etc but it wasnt something we had been doing for long...so I wasnt real sure how much he knew...but I took the chance that he knew them well enough to hit the numbers when I called them out to him. (funny enough I didnt even consider calling 999 because ambulance service in this country is a joke...as I would be reminded yet again before too long).

Between my moans and tears I called out my husbands work number to Boo...one digit at a time and watched as he hit the telephone key pad. In the back of my mind I was surprised to see he knew to remove the handset and place it to his ear even though I hadnt told him. I realize children play "phone" all the time...but this was serious and he seemed to be taking it seriously. (maybe wishful thinking on my side?)

When I had called out the last number and he had hit it...I waited a few moments giving it a chance to ring before shouting out to my husband that I was sick and needed help. I had no idea if it was even my husband on the other end of the line...or even if anyone was there...but I shouted all the same. I had no choice.

It was then that I started vomiting and my muscles were wracked with pain. My gut felt like it was being torn apart by lions and I was positive I was literally going to come apart from the pain. I had no idea if anyone was coming...if he had heard or even answered the phone...and I was helpless on the floor.

At some point I realized someone was banging on the front door. Obviously I couldnt get to the door and by this time I had no strength to even shout out to whomever it was. Boo was at the door trying to open it and I could hear voices on the other side...they were female voices and then I recognized them as my Yemini neighbors from upstairs. (I would find out later that Boo actually did hit the right numbers and my husband heard me shouting...he was far away and so called the neighbors to come down and check on me while he headed home).

By this time Boo was running around searching all the usual places for the door key and I was trying to get his attention to tell him where the key was in hopes that he would understand and get it. I finally managed to call him over and told him where it was...he needed some further guidance and encouragement but he eventually managed to get that door key by dragging some things across my bedroom floor and knocking it down.

Then he ran for the door and finally got it open.

*to be continued

The rest of the story will explain what happened to me and what was wrong with me after that front door was opened...but up to this point is important to me because if he hadnt understood numbers well enough to dial one...and hadnt been smart enough to figure out how to get the key down by himself...those ladies wouldnt have gotten in as soon as they did....and things might have turned out much different. Stay tuned.

Higher Pay for Continued Incompetence...Only in Bahrain!

In todays GDN we find what can only be a late April Fool's joke being played out to the masses...MP's might possibly be getting yet ANOTHER pay rise!!!

Shock!!! Horror!!! Didnt see that one coming...did you?

http://gulf-daily-news.com/NewsDetails.aspx?storyid=250813

These MP's have been one chucklefest after another...and I have yet to open a newspaper and not want to slap my forehead in complete and utter dismay at yet another "law" these bafoons are trying to pass off on the masses.

Everything from banning pork and alcohol, mannequins, preventing bachelors from hanging underwear in view of any passerbys and also wanting to corral them all up in little towns etc so they dont harrass the locals (huh)...wanting to force same sex doctors on us...not to mention keeping a keen lookout for the gays that are trying to sneak in the country (how come lesbians are not treated with a similar amount of discrimination)...among other things. It seems the MP's became our religious leaders almost overnight...who appointed them the moral lawmakers of society?

Are there any restrictions on what this Court of Jesters can pass to build up their own personal fortunes? Is anyone paying attention to this craziness? And more importanly...

How can I become an MP ????

The only thing these MP's have manged to do...is give future MP's the green light and knowledge that they will soon have the same opportunity to make themselves rich while making the masses even more miserable then we already are...nice!!