Category Archives: TFEH

The Lebanese Valet; 2013’s Most Fearless Organized Crime Network

valet lebanon

What can I say we’re wrapping up a great year.

Everyone around town seems to be complaining about the same thing but like most things in Lebanon that’s as far as it goes. This post is not meant to undermine any of the other dire causes that need our attention, but I’ve personally reached the end of my rope with the valet mafia that have introduced an unofficial tax on us and have taken over our streets and claimed ownership of our sidewalks.

If licensed valet services want to take full possession of the parking spots right in front of establishments, then so be it, though I highly doubt those are considered private property on city maps.

What I’m ranting about is PUBLIC sidewalks that are meters and meters away or across the street from restaurants, shops and bars that are now suddenly proclaimed off-limits by some thug-like characters who may not even be wearing a uniform giving out generically numbered receipts. Some randoms looking to make a quick buck with no municipal badge and no registration acting like they’re in charge, telling us where we can and can’t park. It sounds ludicrous doesn’t it? But guess what, we are all taking orders from them. We’re all either driving away or handing them the keys to our cars, worse yet we are paying/bribing these nobodies money so that we can park it ourselves and keep the keys to OUR cars with us. Yes, we pay DOUBLE so they won’t take away the keys to our own car. Nuts

They want to call themselves a valet service, whatever. This is organized crime.

Because if you try to resist the intimidation you will find yourself in a nasty confrontation that could possibly lead to threats or altercations.

I give my car to valet drivers all the time, but only when they work directly and exclusively (licensed) for a place and even then I do it with a heavy heart since they exempt themselves from all responsibility for loss or damage to your property. I refuse to pay them if I park it myself on what is considered designated restaurant/store parking spots, and if they do complain then I complain to management. I don’t do this to save LL 5,000 I do it because I refuse to enable this entitlement mentality.

I won’t give my car to valet services that have set up camp on a street and decided to tax customers and citizens. And you shouldn’t either. Maybe if we drive these mafias out of business and walk a little bit more, (like we happily do when we travel abroad) we could rid this city of these sidewalk parasites. Or maybe we just need Batman.

Join the Fight Against Tattooed Eyebrows


Alright. So I’m about to acknowledge the elephant in the country. Someone’s gotta do it already, and I’m taking one for the team.

Two words: Tattooed Eyebrows. We all breathed a sigh of relief as we bid farewell to decades of notoriously pin-thin over-plucked half-moons, little did we know we’d only be paving the way for these jumbo eye-staches? When did it suddenly become cool to have creepy caterpillars on your forehead? Dark, moist, ridiculously thick and worst of all, supernaturally defined and straight substitutes or deformed arches of what was once, hair.

I must have missed the memo, you know the one that incited these poor unsuspecting women to go out in flocks, shave off their eyebrows and replace them with absurd PERMANENTLY tattooed marks on their heads. I woke up one day and everywhere I looked there they were, red ones, gray ones, brownish-orange ones, and very very black ones. The Horror.

No tattooed eyebrows do not look natural. No matter how many times you ask or what ridiculous sum of money you paid for them. No matter what that beautician told you. They just don’t. And they never will. You’ve been punk’d.

Besides, the point of recreating a look is to emulate something that actually exists in the first place. I promise you, the last women that probably sported those things were living in caves and even they felt insecure about them when they discovered the mirror.

And what about when they peel ( yes, those things peel!) if it were up to me, it should be illegal for women to go out in public when they’re freshly inked and their new creatures are covered with this nasty coat of gunk.

I thought long and hard before writing this post. Because I thought of all the women that got them. That’s a lot of women to piss off. But you know what, they should have listened. They had done no justice to their once beautiful faces. You may tell me my opinion is uncalled for. Perhaps.

But there’s one thing I’m sure of, Tattooed eyebrows should be criminalized, if not for the women who wear them then at least think of the  people who have to withstand the pain of looking at them. Because we all know that when you’re speaking to someone with tattooed eyebrows, you can’t look anywhere else but at those things. It’s all you can focus on. And you get caught so many times doing it. And you try and try to look away but you end up staring right at them the entire time.

So ladies, enough is enough, you can fight this, resist the urge to go in for that retouch session, let them go , and in a year or two,  they will fade away like a far distant memory. And if you’re lucky no one will remember that you had the same facial expression for an entire year.

Sign the petition today by leaving your name in the comment section below!

The 4 Characters You Will Meet On A Flight To Beirut


1)      The Trouble Maker with the belly in a tracksuit

You know shit is about to hit the fan as soon as you spot this one making a fuss at check-in. He’s already cut-in line twice while his poor wife and kids tag along, no one has the guts to stand up to him, so they end up giving them the dirty looks. He’s 27 kilos over the limited baggage allowance but he won’t budge. He’s been holding up the queue for an hour until the supervisor gave him the ultimatum ( pay or leave the bags behind) while he glares at him murderously. Back in Beirut, he would most likely have whacked the guy or called-in wasta, but he’s still in Rome and he’s on his best behavior. So he decides to take it all out as soon as he boards the Lebanese flight. He spots an East Indian man on what is supposed to be the seat next to him and flips out. He announces to the flight attendant that he will not be sitting in his assigned seat with no justification, just very matter-of-factly. Things get very tense and messy before the short older male attendant that-looks-like-a-captain-but-is -not-the-captain intervenes, refers to him as “Monsieur” and offers him a seat in the exit row isle. Impressed, trouble maker leaves his entire brood behind as he nestles in his comfortable new seat.

2)      The Flight Attendant en route to an 80’s Glamor Shoot

Fuchsia. That’s the first thought that pops in your head when both her and her lips welcome you on board. She wears her scarf and outdated green ensemble proudly as she ushers you to your seat.

She thoroughly enjoys going though each aisle to check if passengers have in fact followed the rules. And she lives for the moment when they don’t so she can finally practice the executive powers bestowed upon her. She is especially nice to the gentlemen and especially unpleasant to most women. She has a way of making chicken or meat sound like cocaine or hash. She’s happy to serve you but NEVER make her feel like it’s her job, just pretend she’s some hot chick that randomly volunteered to be on this flight and you’ll be fine.

3)      The Lebanese expat

He’s the most successful of his class having moved to Rome for university, landed a great position in his field and never left. He travels back and forth on occasions to visit family and friends but he spends most of his time in Rome. He’ll never move back home and every time he gets on this flight, he  reaffirms it. He dreads the noise, the chaos and the fact that he never gets any room in what is supposed to be his overhead bin space. Yes, he’s Lebanese, but he’s 100% converted to civilized. His strategy is to make the least eye contact possible and minimum interaction with his surroundings. It helps that he could easily pass for an Italian and he will not utter a word of Arabic. He dies a little inside every time passengers applaud post-landing.

4)      The Negligent mother

She has to put up with her brats every day, so cut her some slack if she decides to disown her children on this one and make them everyone else’s problem, alright? Besides, she’s been dying to watch that flick starring Catherine Zeta Jones playing on the flight. And while everyone else is complaining about her kids kicking their seats and screaming, she hasn’t had this much quiet time in almost a year. Not only does she watch the entire movie unfazed by the ruckus, she is also impressively immune to the judgmental stares of fellow passengers urging her to control the situation. They can hate all they want. She allows those kids to roam the aisles and bump into people’s arms or legs as long as they don’t interrupt her until the attendant finally corners her into seating them for landing. Even then she considers letting them loose.

Have I missed any?

WTF of the Day


Damn you Photoshop.

No Auto Khaled did not commission Nigella Lawson for their latest campaign. At least I hope they didn’t.

Some bright graphic designer thought it would be a brilliant idea to paste her photo in there and call it a day. I’m really curious as to how that process went down, are they even aware who Nigella is or were they just randomly googling an image say “women holding bag of crisps” and found Nigella handling some buttered cream puff or about to stuff her face with a ridiculously roasted lamb shack and so they intricately replaced it with a truck like it’s the most natural thing in the world?

Lebanese brilliance at it’s finest hour. Brands take note of this. I want to nominate them for an SMA.

Speaking of SMA did you vote for me? Best Fashion Blog, it’ll only take a sec here you go

Sexism In Advertising:The List Goes On

Most of us were appalled by the blatant sexist advertising Mazda Lebanon put out this summer, but make no mistake, they’re far from being the only ones using sex to sell. Sexist ads have always been a trend and judging from this new compilation it doesn’t look like they’re going away anytime soon.

Check out more Sexist Ads

Sexism In Advertising: A Notorious Compilation

Sexism In Advertising: An Even More Notorious Compilation

5 Reasons You’re Still Single; The Arab Men Edition-Part I

1) Just because a girl sat next to you in a café or bar it doesn’t mean she is trying to grab your attention, look around you, perhaps all the rest of the tables are taken. Let her have her coffee in peace.

2) Don’t get brave just cause you’re with your buddies. Girls do not like to get hit on by a table full of buffoons and you probably don’t want to date the ones who do. Hitting on a girl in groups is called harassment. That makes you an offender.

3) Don’t force eye contact on a girl; if she’s trying to avoid your gaze, she’s not playing hard to get she’s just not interested. Plain and simple. The number of times your eyes meet will not increase your chances of getting her number. You just come off as a stalker.

4) A girl notices right away when your gaze shifts south of her neck. And no matter how many times you try to redeem yourself, know that you’ve been exposed. So fight the urge, look at her face when you’re addressing her.

5) So she’s wearing a mini-skirt. That doesn’t make her a hoe. She probably just has great legs. Practice good judgement. Don’t twist your neck attempting to follow her every foot step just to take it all in before she’s out of sight. You exude perverseness and desperation, especially if you’re with another girl.

Also check out

The 6 Annoying Dating Habits Of Middle Eastern Men

What Men Really Want- Especially Lebanese Men

B%*#% What You Looking At?

I get why men stare at women, mommy explained that to me at the tender age of 10, but what the hell is up with the women who stare at women?

I’m referring to the type of women you see when you’re out and about, at the mall or a restaurant who make it their mission to take-in every detail about you. They fixate like a teething puppy on a pair of stilettos. The entire purpose of their being will be to examine you. Like crackheads they become consumed with  you. Their bulging eyes pop out of their heads and their necks twist as they size you up s-l-o-w-l-y and shamelessly from head to toe. And you know that somewhere in their sick heads; some little ticker is archiving everything.

I was doing some grocery shopping the other day placing my items on the cashier’s counter when I felt two pairs of scrutinizing eyes burning holes through me. Behind me stood two relatively young women. One was top heavy wearing a sheer crimson top that did no justice to her already sagging rack and the other was a what’s considered a big woman with a difficult-to-miss hairy mole on her right cheek. They both looked like life may not have been too kind on them and  had this bitter confrontational look on their faces. The kinda look that spelled trouble.

I quickly gazed in their direction, giving them one of those “I know you’re staring so stop” kinda looks but they didn’t budge. Instead they held the stare right back at me until we were all interrupted by the cashier who noticed that I had forgotten to get one of my veggies priced. Seconds later, I felt their vicious eyes on me once again but this time they were accompanied with not-so-discreet whispers and giggles. At that moment, one of them pressed my then empty cart on my hips and rudely said “can you move this” as she tried to make way for her cart.

The cashier was now aware of the situation. It was like watching a scene from the National Geographic. A duel created to simply establish the peck order. The grocery store had suddenly become the jungle. I could either concede or stand my ground.

Let me tell you they messed with the wrong species that day.

“My cart will stay here” I hissed as I firmly gripped the cart with my claws and pushed back “and I will move it only when I’M done”

It was obvious my reaction took them by surprise. They tried to save face by acting unthreatened by my show of force. Suddenly, they looked much smaller in size and less intimidating so I decided to take go all the way, teach dem bitches a lesson they’ll never forget.

“By the way, they sell mirrors downstairs you should really look at one before leaving the house next time.”

I waited for their next move but nothing. Checkmate. And just like that I made my glorious exit, leaving them with their jaws hanging in the air.


Read More On Staring Problems

Stop Staring At Me