Adults who baby talk need to be institutionalized.
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All our lives we’ve been told to drink milk. Milk is good for your bones. Milk has a lot of healthy nutrients. Got milk?
I have bad news.
It turns out that the whole milk-is-good-for-you thing is just a huge marketing ploy by the dairy industry. We’ve been victim to this ploy since there was a milk surplus in the US after WWII.
I have shit news, too.
Milk might not simply be “just harmless” (jury’s out though). According to a study by Swiss researchers, milk consumption may be linked to bone fractures and early death. The dairy industry also has been forging partnerships with many restaurants and food manufacturers to get them to increase the amount of cheese used in food (extra cheesy pizza, anyone?), resulting in more saturated fat lining up our livers. Last year, another sweeping study found that women who drank two and a half or more glasses of milk a day had a higher fracture risk than their counterparts who drank less than one glass a day. An analysis published in the American Journal of Clinical Nutrition in 2014 concluded that “high intakes of dairy products…may increase total prostate cancer risk.”
Goodness gracious, is nothing safe to consume these days?
So, stop force-feeding your kids milk. Ask for less cheese with your pizza. And eat local, for heaven’s sake. Local cheese in Jordan is often made from sheep milk (i.e. Nabulsi cheese), and it is much better for you. You’ll also be supporting local businesses, who need your support much more than Kraft and Hajdu.
Here’s a great video about this (thanks Haitham!)
My dear idiot countrymen and women,
Thank you for jading me. Numbing me. Locking me into a bubble. Thank you for making me not care anymore, about anything, really.
Somewhere along the years, I’ve lost hope in you ever growing brains (or logic). At this point, I’m almost okay with your idiocy, because you’ve convinced me that we really don’t deserve music. Or fun. Or colors. Or happiness. Or a life in general.
I hope you rot in the misery of your disgusting thoughts.
I don’t think I’ve done this before, but kudos must be given when kudos are deserved: Thank you Al-Markazia (Toyota Jordan) for your efforts in spreading comedy in Jordan, and for supporting entertainment and the arts.
They’ve been doing it consistently for years and years (I remember my brother joined one of their stand-up competitions a gazillion years ago), and I can’t imagine a better way to do marketing for good (and laughs!).
Around 2007, it was trendy for corporations in Jordan to support art and entertainment in Jordan. These days (and I know the times are tough), the list is quite narrow, and art is dying. I almost want to hug Toyota for the positivity.
I was following last week’s Nemr Abu Nassar #ToyotaComedy show on Twitter, and seeing messages of laughter, joy, and happiness from the audience made me really happy, too.
This is the best thing I’ve seen online in ages.
Here’s a genius idea on what we can do with the horrendous towers shamefully lining Amman’s skyline with their constant reminder of corruption, retardation, and poor planning.
Hello, US Aid, GIZ, et all… help us with something we actually need, please?
Okay, so turkey.
I have been exercising regularly for almost three months. I’ve never been much of an exercise person, so it’s actually a big deal for me. Being a child of the super-trackable, super-measurable internet world, I’ve found that systematically doing a body-composition analysis, on the (very) unreliable InBody analyzer, and logging the journey into an Excel sheet really helps me stay motivated.
Except that last month I only gained 100g of muscle. Not so good for motivation when you spend 5 hours each week tearing down your muscles in an attempt to grow them. I was speaking to a trainer about it when she asked me the dreaded question: are you consuming enough protein?
I’m getting 50g of protein on a good day, I said.
That’s not enough, she said. You need at least 120g, and that’s not enough even.
How the hell am I supposed to get a 120g?
Eggs. Tuna. Protein shakes.
I do all three above. That’s 62g. Where am I supposed to get the other 60g?
Meat. Chicken breast. Turkey.
But I’m allergic to chicken and turkey and I really am not a fan of red meat.
Fish in Amman? Are you crazy? I’m not rich.
And so, I must find new sources of protein.
After my bad experience with chicken in November, I went back to stubbornly avoiding poultry like the plague. The human brain is an amazing thing, isn’t it? I just did not want to feel that familiar chicken-induced nausea.
But after my conversation with the trainer, I had the fatalistic attitude of screw-everything-where-the-hell-am-I-supposed-to-get-60g-of-protein-from. I got home, and without thinking or dreading, shoved down half a ready-made turkey sandwich that I found in the fridge.
And guess what?
No red dots on my tongue. No weird, bloated tummy. No feelings of nausea.
This is a really big deal because I’ve always been the sad child who ordered club sandwiches with one empty layer (where the turkey is supposed to be), and never had Hawaiian pizza (because they always make them with turkey or turkey pepperoni).
The turkey sandwich was even delicious, which chicken is not.
My life will change.
Khanum is a legend in Pakistan. The piece covers her recent journey to Kolkata, the city where she was born. Partition forced her family to move to Pakistan when she was 6-years-old.
A haunting post by a peace activist from the border area of Pakistan and Afghanistan.
I know the Americans think me an opponent of their drone wars. They are right; I am. Singling out people to assassinate, and killing nine of our innocent children for each person they target, is a crime of unspeakable proportions. Their policy is as foolish as it is criminal, as it radicalises the very people we are trying to calm down.
I am aware that the Americans and their allies think the Peace Committee is a front, and that we are merely creating a safe space for the Pakistan Taliban. To this I say: you are wrong. You have never been to Waziristan, so how would you know?
The mantra that the West should not negotiate with “terrorists” is naive. There has hardly ever been a time when terrorists have been brought back into the fold of society without negotiation. Remember the IRA; once they tried to blow up your prime minister, and now they are in parliament. It is always better to talk than to kill.
I have travelled half way across the world because I want to resolve this dispute the way you teach: by using the law and the courts, not guns and explosives.
Ask me any question you wish, but judge me fairly – and please stop terrorizing my wife and children. And take me off that Kill List.