Monday, December 31, 2007

More About Governmental Hospitals

If you thought your information was safe when it was passed into a government hospital, you thought wrong.

Chances are your records are out on the street inside a huge dumpster overflowing, or being sold to some Nigerian fellows out their so they can open some loans in your name.

I don't think these people have heard of shreding, recycling, even burning. Weren't we supposed to have electronic databases, aren't we nearly in the year 2008?

If you don't know why these should be kept private, read more about Identity Theft on Wikipedia.

Some of these files on the pavement, they aren't even inside the bin. Here are some pictures taken by my friend Kilany.

[Via Tip&Polls]

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Not Another 100th Post

It is at this post that Not Another Blog reaches it's 100th post.

And, as my friend M. Kilany said, like a human's age is measured in years, a blog's age is measured in posts. So, Not Another Blog is officially 100 posts old.

I would like to take this chance to thank everyone who commented on my blog. In my opinion, commenting on a blog is like pushing a blogger forward in life and letting him succeed further and excel.

Those people include uncle Bilal, Kinzi, Qwaider, Hani, Moey, Kilany. Not to forget people such as my mum Mona, and my auntie Eman, thank you all.

Edit: And my auntie Wesam too!!!

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Meeting Kinzi

Actually, it's supposed to be meeting Kinzi, Little Angel, Spikekid, Project Boy and History Buff.

Indeed, me and my mum went over to Kinzi's house yesterday. It turned out she lived quite close to us. Google Earth was quite useful when it came to finding the best way to her house! By following the directions she sent to us, we located where the house is & found out the best way for us to come from. Maybe someday technology will get better and we will all start finding peoples homes by Google Earth. Maybe not.

Anyway, Kinzi is a very nice woman and has a great house, which is much tidier than ours, I have to say. I played a bit (actually a few hours, hehe) of Xbox with SK and PB, and I realized how bad I am at playing on the Xbox. I guess I'm used to the PS2's controls. Ah well, I shall show SK my skills on the PS2 whenever he comes over. >:D

Meeting another blogger. How strange it seems that meeting somebody you had never known in reality, turns out to be a great person in the real world.

What have your experiences with other bloggers been like?

Fateh & Hamas Online

Can you belive it? They have both blogs on Wordpress posting about what the other clan has done!

One is called Hamas Gaza, a blog made by Fateh, which posts about the work of Hamas and how horrendous it is and exposing stories about it. Then, another blog opens under the name Fateh Israel, which is the exact opposite of it, made by Hamas people, exposing the horrendous things done by Fateh.

In my opinion, this is a childish war. If you gave a few kids a bunch of guns and told them to make a war, they would be more mature than this. What kind of people make blogs about each other?!

[Via Egyptain Chronicles]

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Christmas Card Sent From 'Heaven'

An dead man plays a prank on his friends by arranging with a barber to post festive cards after his death. Wise or cheeky?

A man from the US state of Oregon has stunned friends and relatives by sending them Christmas cards, two months after his own death.

The 34 handwritten cards were sent and signed by Chet Fitch, who died in October aged 88, with "Heaven" given as the return address.

In a message on the cards, Mr Fitch said God had allowed him back to Earth specially to deliver the cards.

But his barber told local media they had planned the ruse together.

Patty Dean, 57, was quoted by the Ashland Daily Tidings newspaper as saying Mr Fitch had approached her with the idea in 1987, saying he wanted to play one last trick on people after his death.

She said he told her a week before his death that she would probably be able to send the cards this year.

[Source: BBC News]

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

Paranoid Fathers

Christmas Day, 3PM. My dad comes back home to find his laptop blurting out that it has discovered a virus.

Now normally, any person who finds a virus on his computer would simply scan the computer, destroy the virus and carry on with life. Not my dad.

When he saw that his laptop had a virus, he went berserk. Not only was he naturally paranoid, but add on top that the laptop was a new Sony Vaio costing more than 2500 JDs, you have total mayhem.

"Who used my computer when I wasn't here?!" my dad bellows. Everyone looks at each other nervously. He later finds out that mum was using it to scan her papers. We start reading al-Fateha on my mum's soul. :D

My dad didn't stop there. He started searching the computer, only to find that Paypal's website had been opened a few minutes ago. My dad suspects everything, and even though a virus has nothing to do with Paypal, he started screaming.

D: Who opened Paypal four minutes ago?!
K: Erm, I did. I wanted to check how much-
D: That's it! Paypal gave me a virus!! All because of you, Khaled!!
K: That's impossible, you can't get a virus from-
K: But...
K: Ok, ok.

So now, my dad is going to get us our own scanner, going to lock up his office, and install yet more security software. Ever seen more paranoid people?

Monday, December 24, 2007

I Gave 91 Clicks To Hani?!

According to Google Analytics, my visitors have clicked on Hani's link 91 times! Where is my payment for this advertising?! :D

Sunday, December 23, 2007

My Wierd Sister

I have a strange younger sister, she always talks about unusual things, and most of them are pretty gross anyway.

Kinda like when I was very young, I wanted to be a dog when I grew up. So yestarday was her birthday, and we asked her what she would like as a present.

U: "So, what would you like as a present?"
S: "Hmm... I know!"
U: "Ok, but it shouldn't be something expensive..."
S: "It isn't, I want to ask for something."
U: "Go ahead, ask."
S: "I want to never have a shower for the rest of my life!"
U: "Erm, you can't have that."
S: "Ok, ok, I'll only have a shower when we have something important, like a wedding..."
U: "No, you'll have to think of something else..."
S: "Grrrr..."

I told you she was strange! What strange people do you know?

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Using Lines To Multiply

Basically, the method is divided into three steps. First you draw a number of lines for each number in your equation, but separating them. Then you count each corner the amount of intersections of lines and note them down, but the middle dots count as one number. Finally, you put the numbers you got together, and that would be the answer to your equation.

You would've understood nothing from what I just said, so watch the video for a much easier explanation of what happens. I think its great for mental maths when you have large numbers.

How about you, what do you think?

Friday, December 21, 2007

I Hate Mall Security Guards

They ruined my Friday night film with my friends, all because I'm a 'shab' and I can't go in the mall.

Instead, I had to wait outside with winds bursting at my face and freezing at 6 degrees. It turned out my friends had come early and had slipped in with one of the boys older brother, then he left. Now I was stuck outside, trying to communicate with them with my mobile.

After being rejected at all the doors of City Mall, including the garage, I called my mum. She came after ten minutes and let me pass through the gates of Mordor, I mean City Mall. After thanking my mum a millions times, she left. All so good.

But no, the evil guards of the horrible mall wouldn't give up so easily. After arguing over the film we were going to watch, we finally settled for one then remembered we hadn't prayed Magrib (yes, we are sheiks). Now we try and find a place to pray in.

Now usually the place would be downstairs, me and another friend go down and start searching for a place. Bad choice. A security check point was right in front of us. My friend dashes up the elevator quickly and makes a run for it. I wasn't so lucky.

Stupid guard refuses to hear my pledges, and sends me out of the mall. Cold and angry, I call my mum and go back home. I'm not going back to a mall again.

How about you, what have your experiences with mall guards been?

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Starting Eid In The Bathroom

I shouldn't have eaten that horrible piece of junk on an empty stomach. If I hadn't eaten it, I wouldn't be at home while everyone else was visiting my relatives.

A few minutes of hurling in the bathroom put my first Eid day to a halt. As usual, it all went on the floor of the bathroom, ruining my new jeans and socks. Now usually if someone pukes on the floor someone else would come and clean up. Except this time it was different.

I knew my mum was fed up with cleaning up after me (because it usually comes on the carpet, the sofa, the door, etc), so this time I cleaned up after myself. Kinda like soldiers who have to dig a hole to hurl into it, then cover it up again. Army style puking, eh?

Good old grandmother gave me some tea to drink, so now I feel much better. And now I'm at home alone, but I guess this has its good points. And while I'm on the subject, Eid mubarak to you all non-sick fellas.

Side Note: I haven't been posting much because of final exams, although I'm trying to make up for them this Eid.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

The 8-Bit Tie From ThinkGeek

"A few of us monkeys at ThinkGeek had this great shared dream a few months ago. In it, the whole world was 8-Bit, just like the video games we grew up on. We found ourselves having to leap from platform to platform, to search for pieces of the Triforce of Wisdom, and to fight scary mutated plants and animals. The music was awesome (and still stuck in our heads) but the coolest part was what we were wearing: a tie. But not just any tie, an 8-Bit tie!

We woke up screaming. An 8-Bit tie - what an awesome way for the drones of Cubeland to show their independence from Corporate America! So, we did what we knew you'd want - we had the ties made. Silk-like Microfiber construction, clip on* (for easy dressing and t-shirt wear if needed), and custom designed by us for you. You'll be the envy of the office or, at least, you'll get tons of attention. You'll be just like Mario when he wore a tie to meetings when negotiating his contact with Nintendo. Sure the Wii, PS3, and Xbox 360 are out there with all their super technology, but sometimes it's nice to remember the beginnings of the video game revolution. Viva la 8-Bit!"

This looks awesome and very creative, what do you think?

[Via ThinkGeek]

Monday, December 10, 2007

The Ten Days

This golden opportunity is the first 10 days of Dhul-Hijjah. Allah says in the quran, [And by the ten nights] (Al-Fajr 89:2).

According to most scholars, the 10 days mentioned in that verse refer to the first 10 days of Dhul-Hijjah. Allah mentions it and swears by it in that verse because of its virtues.

This is strengthened by the hadith: “There are no days during which good deeds are more beloved to Allah than these [ten] days.”

He was then asked, “Not even jihad in the path of Allah?” He replied, “Not even jihad in the path of Allah, except for a person who goes out with his self and his wealth, and comes back with nothing.”

So what good deeds can we do?

Fasting for one. I usually fast the day of Arafa only. But this year I'm going to try to fast as many of the other days as I can. The others include more Quran and helping those in need. With prices rising at the speed of light, many poor people are struggling to find the very basics of daily life: flour, sugar & gasoline.

So hopefully all of us can grab this opportunity for extra rewards. By the way, I hope I don't sound like I'm preaching, because I'm not! It's just a reminder, that's all... ;)

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Of Mice And Men

I was never into books, and never liked novels, until I read this book. Our English teacher has a subject called Literature which is basically reading a specified story then answering questions on it based on our understanding of the story.

I thought I should review this story, because I really liked how it showed the age of the American depression from all its views, and how it showed people who stayed in their position till death, while others dreamed and plotted of a better life, and people who changed their current position to higher ranks.

Of Mice And Men talks about two men, one a small and wise character, the other a large disabled man, who both travel together from ranch to ranch trying to earn some money. George, the small character, is a man that has ambitions for a better life by owning a ranch himself, unlike the other ranch workers who had no goals in life.

Lennie, the disabled man who accompanies George, has the dreams and passions of a small child. His obsession with soft things, such as fur or hair, is most of the time the reason he gets into trouble, and even accidental murder at the end of the story. George accompanies him because Lennie's Aunt asks him to, and he also wants to avoid loneliness, a key aspect of the American Depression.

The other characters in the book are as interesting as the rest. They go from the main leaders of the ranch, with high respect in community, while at the same time jealous of the others and wanting to reach higher ranks, to the lowest people in community such as the black man 'Crooks', who is not respected in the ranch because of his color and his looks.

I would recommend this book, which was nominated for four Oscars, to anyone who enjoys reading about the past, and how friendship is always strong to anyone, even to the point of life and death.

Parent Sells His Teenagers Guitar

If you're a son that's desperate for a game for your Wii, then you'd better not be doing anything stupid before you get it.

That includes smoking pot on your garden patio with your friends. Isaac was caught smoking, which then led to his surprise Christmas present to be sold on Ebay. A few days later, it was dugg and everyone knew about it. In the auction, the father writes an account of what happened.

So I spent who knows how many hours of my life trying to get “Guitar Hero 3” for the Nintendo Wii for my 15 year old son who has been begging for it since he was born (well not really but he’s wanted it for awhile). So after waiting in lines and going into every game store in the city over the last 2 weeks (practically being laughed at when I asked for guitar hero 3) I finally got lucky and got one at EB Games (they just got a shipment of them 25 minutes before I walked in!).

So I was so relieved in that I had finally got the Holy Grail of Xmas presents pretty much just in the nick of time. I couldn’t wait to spread the jubilance to my son.

Then, yesterday, I came home from work early and what to I find? My innocent little boy smoking pot in the backyard with 2 of his delinquent friends.

Now I know santa applies the “naughty or nice” paradigm to determine who gets what on Christmas. My son (Isaac) hasn’t exactly been Mother Teresa this year (he got suspended for fighting in the spring, among other things) but I thought I could still justify getting him this present. Maybe it would make him stay home more and “rock out” on this fake guitar thing. He pretty much spends all his free time at his friend’s house playing it anyways (while high on marijuana, I would imagine).

Anyways, I am now finding it hard to justify rewarding him with this gift after he so greatly disappointed me. I know smoking a joint isn’t the end of the world, but if you can convince me that he deserves the gift, then I will end the auction. You will have to be very convincing. I am an elementary school teacher and I know that rewarding bad behavior is just asking for more of the same…

After I caught him getting high on my patio I did the typical yelling, screaming, kicking out the friends, etc… but I had not decided on a suitable way to punish him. As of the time of me writing this, he does not know I got him Guitar Hero 3. I will show him the auction once it is posted and we can watch it finish together. Sort of a “Father-Son bonding experience”. While I doubt this will keep him from ever smoking pot again, I think it will make him think twice before doing illegal (well I think pot is still illegal in Canada) drugs on my property.

I am still considering getting him a game for his Nintendo. Maybe something like Barbie as the Island Princess or Dancing With the Stars. These games are in stock everywhere I go, and I know he will just love them.

Merry Xmas Isaac. I hope you’ve learned your lesson. –Father.

[Sources: From Digg, to Gaming Today, to Ebay]

Thursday, December 6, 2007

School Is Not Easy

If only dreams could come true. If only I could wish for something and it comes true. One of those things would be that school would become a bit easier. A bit less stressfull. I have solved alot of the problems I have had, but a lot still stay without possible solutions.

One of these problems is the most annoying one. When I don't have a pen (a decent one not a biro pen which looks horrible) I'd have to borrow one from my friend. My friend Hussien usually only has a few spare pens to write with, so I end up writing with a blunt unsharpened pencil. The text is hard to read when exam time comes, and I'd usually get notes on pages from the teachers, saying I need to write in pen, or the mark on the report wouldn't look too good. This problem has been solved by getting myself one blue, and one red pen. Knowing myself, I can guess how long these will last before they're broken or get lost.

The other problem is the teacher's lack of humor. So what if I talk too much in class, and I know this never bothers you or 'distracts other students' like you say, so why do you keep telling me to stop talking? Eft. And so what if I started making sheep sounds in the middle of class? Or why does it bother you so much when I "don't put up my hand" before I answer? Why am I always called 'the class clown' from every teacher in every parents meeting, just because I am 'na3'eesh number one' like my Maths teacher calls me? Ha3 3alay ba7awel ade7ekkom, eft.

Another problem is how teachers are so strict about your book and notebook, to the point they make you burst. If I draw a drawing or sketch in my book, I get a extra long note from my English teacher. If I write something in my notebook rather than in my book I get a bad mark on my report, as well as a book full of red pen markings.

Why do mobiles have to be taken from you? Even if I've turned it off and put it in my pocket they'll still search you and take them. When they do that, we all start frantically hiding things in everywhere possible - in a tissue box, inside the bin, on top of the curtains, behind the radiator, in your socks. Anything taken will never come back, so you'd better hide your belongings unless you want to throw away two hundred dinars.

I wonder what college will be like. >:(

Sunday, December 2, 2007

Memory Of A Fish

A fish can remember things said in the past five seconds only. Khaled Sharif might remember things said in the past five seconds only.

So, if you were a fish, you would've forgotten what I had just said. This phrase is very easily put on me. I can't remember anything at all! In fact, I am so bad at remembering things, my dad even got me a t-shirt last summer that had that slogan. It causes me endless problems and is very embarrassing.

Sometimes my dad asks me to get something from the kitchen. I get there, and I can't remember why I came to the kitchen in the first place. I then get endless lectures about how I am stupid and forget everything, as well as how I will be a failure if I keep forgetting things. I nod my head, and learn nothing. Comes in from one ear, comes straight out of the other.

The real problem however is school stuff. I just can't escape stuff that needs to be memorised, such as Biology or Chemistry, but the really horrible subjects are Arabic or Geography. Something such as memorising the first four lines of a poem can turn into a traumatic experience. I go home, play on the computer or Playstation for five hours, then remember I have to recite the poem tomorrow. I begin to sweat and panic.

My mum gets angry when I tell her, because she knows she will be in double the pain when she tries to make me memorise something. She gets even more mad with me for not concentrating or playing with something else when I'm trying to memorise. She almost explodes when I struggle to finish the first part of the poem with sixty mistakes. But my poor old mum never gives up. :)

The toughest part is memorising Quran, which is the hardest thing ever to memorise. My after school club that teaches Quran know I'm a 'special needs' boy, because I'm the only one who struggles to learn one page every two weeks. Everyone else learns at least two pages a week, which is the minimum, but I always go below the minimum when it comes to memorising.

Something like Surat Al-Anfal is the maximum of hard for me. I began with it from the start of the club, and as about 3 months have past I've only learnt the first four pages. I've even got the verse on my mobile and I read over and over again, but each page takes me two weeks to learn, sometimes even more. The Quran teacher reads the list of the week, and its always the same thing...

"OK, Ali has learnt 6 pages, mashaAllah, you are excellent. Omar has learnt three pages, very good, if only you could make it four pages then that would be even better. [Silence as he reaches my name] And, erm, Khaled has learnt... erm... we'll come back to him."

Don't blame me, blame the fish I bought my brain from! What about the reader, do you have a memory of a fish?

Saturday, December 1, 2007

I Will Not Cut My Hair

I am fed up with barbers in Jordan, I am not going to cut my hair under any circumstance. My mum says that my hair is too long, but I'm not going back to that horrible shop again.

The barber shop is filled with evil nutters, that have no idea what they are doing and take money for ruining your hair. I always get the fat hair cutter, who is the worst of the three devils. This man manages to smoke, watch half naked women dancing on TV, chat with his friends, talk on his mobile phone, and 'cut' my hair.

I use the verb 'cut' to mean just that: cut. Not styling, grooming, trimming or making the hair look nicer. No. Just cut. And I have to pay money for that? No way. Not any more.

Last time was the last straw. I went with my brother a few days before school start. Omar got the barber who owns the shop, he's half decent. While I got the fat one, the worst one. I sat on the chair and I get the usual barking question I always get.

"How do you want me to cut your hair?" he barks.
"Erm, a little shorter please." I reply.
"I don't have 'a little shorter', I only have 1 or 2. Which one?" he barks back.
"What does 2 mean?" I ask, puzzled.
"Ok, I'll do 2.", and he begins.

Cut, snip, cut, snip. A few seconds later I find myself nearly bald, each hair is barely showing. I look at the mirror, trying to wish I was in a nightmare. I can see my mum and sister laughing at me from the car outside.

And that is why I will never go back to that haircutter again. What have your experiences with haircutters been?