How I (Can’t) Feel

First off, in case anyone remembers or remotely cares, I did meet my Persian girlfriend’s mother. I feel like it went really well. (see my last post here!)

This may have to do with my mother always telling me, as a child, how charming I was, translating into a false sense of supremacy.

Regardless, my girlfriend told me her mother liked me enough. Either I am in the clear or my girlfriend has a great poker face.

Second, I would like to thank Saaghi and Farrah for posting my blurb and genuinely caring how my visit went. They have set up a wonderful blog giving voice to first generation Iranians abroad. Merci Farrah and Saaghi joon.

I can’t express my emotions properly.

I’m not a quiet individual nor am I my great-grandfather whom apparently only spoke to berate the loose morals of 50s youth: “‘Laash’ women and their harlequin print dresses.” My issue isn’t that I’m an introvert. My issue isn’t that I think speaking about feelings is a feminine trait. My issue is that I don’t know what to do when feeling: sad, upset, vulnerable, distressed, etc…

I would categorize myself as an emotional person. I don’t mean that I sob during long distance phone commercials. I mean that whether I am really excited or melancholic, the emotion overtakes me. I have moments where I’m animated from happiness and moments where I’m as un-enthused as Al Gore in a library.
My mom has accused me of taking drugs. My doctor has accused me of not taking enough drugs.
I’m not trying to make myself sound like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, nor am I painting a picture of a cross between Cary Grant and Behrouz Voussoughi, I’m only trying to be honest. People whom I build strong relationships with, friendly or romantic, understand this about me. My girlfriend, bless her heart, know this well and remains with me, although I must say she isn’t always a walk in the park either. We’re great (for the most part) together.

This little biography brings me back to the first sentence; I can’t express my emotions properly. I can sit and listen to my friend, partner or parent speak about their issues and give semi-decent advice. However, when the roles are reversed, Lassie does a better job at explaining his issues.

This ends up complicating my relationships. Building a relationship is difficult enough as it is. While we always think and speak of our partner’s best traits, it is really their worst you must accept. This is a given, of course. No person is baggage-less. Even if I think Alicia Keys and I would mingle quite well, I’m sure she has characteristics I would have to try to get over; such as not knowing how to make loobia polo. My baggage is the stress I can put on a relationship by not knowing how to say “I am sad.” I end up going quiet or getting upset. What is worse is at times I don’t even know why I’m upset. My girlfriend then gets frustrated because I’m in a bad mood and I won’t open up. I have managed to string together sentences blaming her and the 1979 Revolution simultaneously for my own issues. I’ve also been a big enough jerk to blame her for lack of caring when she asks “what’s wrong?” An oxymoronic jackass.

I’ve read in the odd female magazine, yes I’ve looked inside Cosmopolitan and the Oprah one,

….that most men do not know how to express their feelings or that we’re afraid of our emotions. I find it funny that those articles are always written by women who do not have a) any clue about being male & b) testicles. [Read more…]

Make Me Submissive, Baby

Happy Monday = R.I.P weekend

It was Superbowl weekend, and even though Niners lost– it was probably the best football game I’ve ever watched.

Jim Harbaugh proved that I have more in common with an NFL coach than I thought possible.


So this post is partially an ode to Jim Harbaugh, who perfectly embodies the frustrated and helpless younger sibling in all of us.

In an earlier post, Farrah Joon talked about her take on dominating in the bedroom…and how it’s a lot better, when the guy takes control.  And to borrow a quote from the lovely lady that I think described her point definition of “DOMINATING”:


And really, its true…while it may vary from girl to girl, almost all women like it when the man exercises some control. And without passing judgment, I have to ask:

Why? Why do we like it when a man plays the Dominant to our Submissive?

The ‘S’ word may be a dirty one, but deep down, every bad b*tch wants an equally (or more) powerful male to pin her down and give it to her good. [Read more…]

I Don’t Do You #Sorry

Hey joonie joons,

HAPPY FRIDAY YO! This is seriously my favorite day of the week. You leave work KNOWING that you have two full days to chill out … work is always kinda uneventful on Fridays… nodramaFridays. Love them.

Anyway, I’ve been a little MIA this week because major writer’s block lately. This is the problem when you’ve sworn off every man in the city because they are all master douches. But most importantly, I am having a hard time remembering all the crazy shit I used to do- denial much? I think so.

They’re called “shitshows” for a reason—because you do everything in your power to black them out of your memory.   [Read more…]

You are SO dumb, FO REAL!


there’s only so many ways you can say hello, and I’m all out for today. & if you love ARAB $$ and SEXY like I do, this song’ll be a hit– summer in Morocco anyone?

and I couldn’t help but post another one for the people going out this weekend:

yeah I kinda gave into #bieberFEVER just a little.

So I’ve decided I have no HOSELEH (HOS for short–patience) for two things:


– Ditzy MEN

One is because I’m broke, the other because I’m too intelligent.

I dont think its ok for girls to play it stupid, but when they actually are that dumb, I just forgive them– because I’m not trying to have sex with them. But for guys, its not that easy. As much as I know not EVERY hook up isn’t going to be an Einstein, I always thought it was safe to assume they have some sort of evolutionary-given common sense. Or could suppress their stupidity for at least the short period of time it takes to get it on.

Saaghi, you’re STUPID. Again.

My friends joke with me that I get with guys on a disability spectrum– from the physically handicapped to the mentally handicapped. I mean there was that one time with the blind guy– but come on! (JK–no one said I was PC on this blog)

But really, now its become a problem: before I’d wait til the next day or tilat least the hookup was over to tell my friends of the stupid sh!t they did, but now I find myself texting/laughing DURING the whole thing.

If I can’t wait to tell the world, it means you’re that ridiculous.   [Read more…]

How to Lose a Girl in One Day


Sometimes when you have a shitty date, you need to let the dust settle before analyzing what exactly went wrong.

See joonies, some guys just go a little overboard when they’re trying to impress you.  This is what they need to realize:

There’s a fine line between confidence and cocky

and when that line is crossed, everything is downhill from there.


When a guy asks a girl out- the date should really be about him getting to know her, the date shouldn’t be about how “great” he is.  Ultimately, we really don’t want to hear it.  We’ve already agreed to go out with them, and it’s not so we can listen to how awesome they are.

Going on and on about yourself isn’t going to convince us to suck your d*ck.


I’ve been on a decent number of dates: I’ve sat through the good, the bad and the ugly (boys: please don’t cry on a first date- it’s a guarantee sex chance killer).  

[Read more…]

chillin with no makeup on, thats when you’re the prettiest?

HAY. we’re almost in MAY.

ok that was corny, but on the real, time flies, doesnt it?

and I always realize this on Mondays…=YOLO FML

I actually drag myself out of bed like this. #sad

Mondays are also when I realize that: the amount of food and alcohol I put into my mouth over the weekend is in direct correlation to how shitty my Monday is.

You know that feeling of waking up on a Monday, knowing you downed enough food for a small country in Africa– and then realizing you have to put on real people clothes.

I know for me, as a PERSIAN girl, its even more of an issue if I don’t keep up appearances for awhile. We need some Intensive Monthly Maintenance which includes: waxing, lasering, hair, etc. Routine Weekly Maintenance: nails, brows, shaving, etc. & THE DAILY: moisturizing, make up, exercising.

Of course, everyone’s different. Some girls wax their moustaches (yes we have them, lets be real) once a month, some do it once a week. Some girls wear foundation everyday, some just brush on the mascara. At the end of the day, its rare that we roll out of bed without a glance in the mirror.

But let me say this, I don’t like doing things without getting credit. So when guys insist,

I like girls who don’t wear makeup.

[Read more…]

If you’re not KOBE, you can sit this one out.

HELLLOOOO/salaaaam/bonjOUR to our lovely joooons,

I’m in a particularly good mood as you can see today. It’s rare, usually there’s something that sets me off – gets my ‘bitch mode activated‘. Anyway, there’s a new CONTACT US page, if you’re too lazy/scared/annoyedthatweevenask to email (! so gogogo and leave us some feedback. Farrah and I are all ears!

just for fun, my french boy crush: Adrien Gallo.

Now I have a concern for my own kind– the middle eastern woman. Since when were we such snooty bitches? and since when was THAT mistaken for confidence? EXCUSE ME— cocky is not confident, cocky is a projection of all your INSECURITIES & DADDY ISSUES.

Cocky doesn’t translate into ‘I’m the hottest bitch in the room’, ‘I’m a lionness here me roar’…Cocky translates over to : “I woke up this morning delusional, thinking I was Beyonce”

Now I know I said its coool to speak your mind, and I encouraged it (see here). & that’s not what I’m talking about– I’m writing about those girls that walk around the streets, the clubs, the malls as if they’ve just been dropped from the nose of an elephant (az damagh-e-feel – farsi proverb of the day). Girls with noses in the air, clutching their handbags, marching in their stilettos, and doling out DIRTY LOOKS. — now tell me that ain’t INSECURR?

As guys say, girls that think their sh!t don’t stink.

toddlers and tiaras. #smh

I have bad news, it does. & you thinking you’re better than other people only shows how inferior you really must feel.

I witnessed the following the other day:

As I stood in line for take-out, there were a couple Irooni girls a few people in front of me (just enough distance for saaghi the anthropologist – or creeper- to observe them). They were laughing, talking, gossiping whatever- until a guy sitting nearby decided to chat them up. It was unclear whether he was hitting on them or just killing time by being a social person.

a) I wanted to give him a MASS AMOUNT of credit for approaching girls while theyre in ‘wolf packs’ (that ain’t easy we know)

b) He was respectful, I know girls complain about all those sleazy creepers but he was not one.


Poor guy didn’t realize what he got himself into. The girls ripped him apart like wolves, to the point that I just felt bad. Even after he had stopped talking to them, they were still laughing, mocking, and just being plain disrespectful. Sure, you can call it mean girls– but it was more than that, these girls thought they had a right to just brush this guy off in any way they so chose.

I was so angry, I wanted to- all at the same time- comfort the poor dude, bitchslap the girls, take them off their stilettos & bring them back down to earth. 

Then I was relieved by this thought:

LIFE will do that.

Somewhere, between losing your virginity, falling in love, moving out, and getting a job- you will learn that there is nothing that makes you better than anyone else. No amount of money, looks, health, or family.

There are no ‘leagues’, ‘cliques’, and ‘ranks’ in the greater scheme of things. There’s only the reality of how you’ve treated the people around you.Like when you say ‘ugh he’s so out of my league’ or ‘I’m an 8, he’s a 4’– you only make yourself look stupid. When you look down on people is when you’re basically asking for life to humble you and smack the air of superiority out of your effing soul.

this is not real life.

As Iranians, or even Middle Easterners, we tend to inherit large egos and even bigger amounts of PRIDE– and I think that can be harnessed for good– towards your motivations, goals, aspirations, etc.  But when you keep it at a superficial level, you’re just going to stand still and look like a fool.

Now if I’ve gotten too philosophical and deep on you joonies, I apologize, let’s lighten this up by showing you how Life humbled a young Saaghi. I’ve realized my existence has been filled with way too many embarassing moments, and I haven’t shared enough of them with you. So here we go

My parents, as all persian parents do, signed me up for a few sports when I was young (some starting at five years old): Soccer, Swimming, Basketball, and Tennis. I definitely did not inherit some of the athletic talent my siblings have, and I was no super star but I was pretty good at Soccer (surprise). And this was because I was AGGRESSIVE (surprise again) and I had no problem elbowing, knocking down, kneeing, headbutting, injuring anyone. My soccer coach sent me into the field because I was the human bulldozer. (Wow, I’m making myself sound very attractive to you joonies aren’t I?) & he sent me in, for every game.

When it came to BASKETBALL, it was a very different story. I don’t know what it is about the sport– i am just NOT GOOD. Actually, I suck. I mean, I can play some one-on-one and survive, but a game with teams– my ADD kicks in and I have no idea what side of the court I should be on. Hands in the air at the same time for defense? Yeah, that just means I look like a confused weirdo doing jumping jacks at the half court line.


ANYWAY, my parents would come to the games, and I realllyyyy  wanted to show off for them. Especially my dad who was still yelling “HUST-ELE” from the sidelines (click here for the full story). Of course, my coach knew I sucked– my teammates knew I sucked– but I, big egoed bulldozer saaghi, still felt like there had to be someone who sucked more than me. & of course I decided it was the girl who hadn’t shed her baby fat yet. (WHY AM I SUCH A BITCH!?) I insisted Coach put me in the games, insisting I had more KOBE in me than her. Turns out, that wasn’t true– one game, as I awkwardly let the other team consistently score while trampling over me, my coach took me out and said:

“Saaghi,You can sit this one out.”

and then I sat every game out, as baby fat KOBE played, scored, and got some glory. My basketball skills became the running joke of my family (still is).

It may seem like a mild story, but guess what– I ate shit on the court a few times, which made me EAT MY WORDS, and kill my ego. Baby fat Kobe was gonna play and I was gonna STOP FRONTIN’ THAT I WAS KOBE/JORDAN/ALLEN/SHAQ– and SIT IT OUT.

I’ll leave you with this joons, and it’s not jesus’ golden rule (although that’d apply here)>>

True Swagged out bitches know they’re just as flawed as the rest of the world. & they don’t front.SO kick off the pedestal you put yourself on, and take a new look around you.

Sh!t looks different from ground level, huh?


The Persian Bulldozer,

saaghi  ساقی


Joonies: We promised nothing would be off limits (and we stay true), so here we go…we’re anticipating some hate-mail for this one #LEGGO!

We’ve all heard it before: “Don’t stop baby.” After choking, eyes tearing, its like no one else in the world exists until he is satisfied. That’s right joonies, you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about:


I was 15 years old when this hot senior at my high school and I drove to a secluded parking lot (yeah I started early, don’t judge). We moved to the backseat of his car and after maybe ten minutes of kissing, he said, “What do you think? Are you ready to try it?” I was an impressionable tenth grader and throughout my life, I was repeatedly told that sex is BAD, sex is for MARRIAGE. So what’s the next best thing for a guy- after sex? GIVING HEAD. I was ready to shed my dorky junior high school girl image and finally hook up with someone sexy, an upperclassman.

In the Backseat…

So, Hot Senior put on the Dr. Dre CD (I know- so ghetto), and after ONE FUCKING HOUR, I was still moving my head up and down… stopping every 3 minutes asking if I could be done yet. His response? “Don’t stop, baby.” I remember thinking, “Arite, I’m not your fucking baby, and not only is my neck stiff as hell, but my throat hurts… and WHY ARE YOU SO HAIRY?!” Oh- did I mention Hot Senior is Persian? (Of course).

Regardless of his ridiculous, un-kept pubes, and the forever ruined Dr. Dre CD, this was a pivotal moment for me. It signified me stepping up from dorkdom to experienced, little Persian girl.

Having been a virgin until age 20, I often replaced sex with blow jobs- and NO, not what you’re thinking: NOT “every guy I ever hooked up with,” ONLY with the guys I dated… or was too drunk to care (… jk… kinda). But seriously, giving head was a way to maintain my virgin status without having to bend over and have anal sex or actually lose my virginity. Finally, I could do something that my strict as shit Iranian parents hadn’t specifically forbidden me from doing, right? WRONG. My Persian mother was your typical run-of-the-mill crazy, nosy woman who took it upon herself to listen to my phone conversations behind the door, snoop through my computer and read my diary (yeah I wrote in it once every other blow job).


Mind Ya Business Mom!

When I was 18 years old, my motherkicked me out of the house for about one week because she found out that I had engaged in some “not so innocent” dick sucking activities. Her response? “Just because you haven’t had intercourse doesn’t mean you are a virgin.”

THIS IS WHERE SHE WAS WRONG. Joonies… SEX DOES NOT STAND FOR SUCKING DICK. Yeah I know, its technically oral sex, but intercourse is intercourse– it doesn’t mean you put someone’s privates in your mouth. It doesn’t mean that some guy attempted to give you an orgasm by slobbering all of your vagina (sidenote: why are WE expected to give head when SO many guys care barely work their way around down there)?


I’m definitely not encouraging that you should go open your mouth to every guy you meet. But calm down:

Just because you’ve given a blow job or two, does not mean you are slutty and it sure as hell does not mean you ARE NOT a virgin.

As for our crazy parents, we grew up in a different generation, a different WORLD. Yes, my mother freaked the hell out and attempted to “teach me a lesson” by kicking me out of my house but, ultimately, our standards compared to the traditions that our parents were raised with are different.  I know that I will not be having my husband chosen for me. In fact, I already know that I won’t be a stay at home mother, or a top chef. While that may be hard for them to comprehend, it doesn’t mean that we are doing anything wrong. It is natural to want to experiment and try things out that seem new and exciting.

And yes as hard as it is to believe, it is natural to engage in oral sex.

(but even more natural for guys to do all the work, just saying).

And boys… I’m sure you are ALL about this post- “Yeah baby! Now girls are going to start giving head everywhere!” But, if you expect ME to go down on YOU– then do yourself a favor and follow these rules:

1. Don’t shave, but trim. No one likes pubes getting stuck in their braces… or down their throat.
2. Don’t push my head down. I’m not a robot, if you are SO lucky to get your dick sucked by ME, then I’ll do it at my own pace, k? Thanks.

3. Don’t ASK me to do it. If I want to do it, I will. When you act all bitch-ass and whiney, pleading for head, chances are I’m turned off and ready to go home.

And joonies, you know we’ve all had this experience. In fact, for those of us who end up losing our virginity at some point in our early lives, we probably started at least 3 years before that with blow jobs. Its just a part of life… and after a few years, it can even start to grow on you.

Disagree? Are sex and BLOW JOBS both sacred?
Are you ready to tell me to shut the F up?!


Until the next BJ,

Farrah  فراه

Too Soft to Handle

Hello my dear joonies,

I just want to start this post off by warning all of you that this is a vent post.  That’s right.  I really need to bitch like crazy and no, not because I’m “PMS‘ing” or for any other stupid reason guys like to pin on us… but because I am utterly and completely annoyed.

Look, we all know dating is hard.  Throughout those first few weeks, we always wonder,

“Does he just want ass or is he for real?”

“Do I actually like him… or his hot piece of ass friend?”

Even till your mid 20s (can’t speak for any age older than that), you have to know how to play the game (which I actually find incredibly depressing because guys just never learn to put their bullshit aside- but then again, the same could be said of some girls).  But let’s say: you finally think you found someone that you really seem to connect with.  Things are getting a little more exciting and you are just starting to get to know each other then… BAM, his insecurities are suddenly on the table and slapping you in the face.

I am all about being there for my man and making sure he feels needed, whatever.  But this comes LATER.  This comes after we have been talking for awhile and a certain foundation for our relationship has been established, NOT after the first date.

Listen up boys… here are some major pointers to keep in mind:


1.  Make me feel special- whether its through texting, gchatting, etc.  Simple gestures count.  

2.  Make me feel like I’m the only girl in the room.

3.  Make plans for the future. And calm your ass down- I’m not talking years down the road… I’m talking like the upcoming weekend homie.  


1.  Don’t text me incessantly asking me if everything is okay JUST BECAUSE I can’t hang out.  I’m busy.  The more you act upset about it, the less likely I’m going to want to see you again.

2.  Don’t ask me to hang out everyday or whenever you think I have a free second.  You all like girls that play hard to get, right?  Well, it goes both ways– we don’t want some little bitch guy who is stuck to our ass all the damn time.

3.  Be a man.  Yes I know- I’m gender stereotyping right here.  But I’m sorry, I don’t want to have to baby you and hold your hand to guide you through the relationship.  If I wanted a baby, I’d get knocked up.

I think I’m pretty blunt most of the time and a little aggressive (if you can’t already tell)… I need someone that can handle it and put me in my place.  NOT someone who might possibly cry.  I’m just saying, I don’t want to be the one proposing… so MAN UP:

Wear the pants in the relationship.  Don’t be a “zan-zalil” (persian for whipped)  understood?!  Of course, sensitive guys can be great– don’t get me wrong.  I know that there will be times when you will need a shoulder to lean on and really, I will be there for you without any judgment.  But until we get to that point of our relationship, please don’t give me a play by play of everything you are doing- sometimes a little mystery goes a long way!

So come on ladies, what turns you off?  Or boys- am I being completely unfair?  Let us know:


Love always,

Farrah فراه
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