Last Name Ever, First Name Fakest.


I’m making a very big effort to not start off this post bitching about the fact that it’s Monday.  Seriously…

It was the freakin’ weekend and weekends are bomb because it involves no work and all play- unless you do work on the weekends, then I feel for you #madrespect.

My weekends usually consist of a lot of food and good friends.

Good friends are hard to come by – especially ones who know what the real meaning of friendship is.

Saaghi and I say this everyday – but she’s my wife #sorryboys

I’ve had a lot of bad friends. Friends who think it’s okay to call my mom a bitch, just because I do.  Or friends who think it’s okay to tell me what to do rather than to support my decisions and let me make my own mistakes.

And as a result, I’m blunt.

I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

I think “being fake” or being “nice” to someone who doesn’t deserve it is a waste of time. And I have more respect for people who can tell me how they really feel about me versus the people who pretend to like me to my face.

I have a tendency to believe people until proven otherwise — so me and fake [Iranian] girls usually aren’t the best combination.  I believe them, they talk shit, and I end up slapping them with my words. It’s the never-ending cycle or I’m just a lot bitchier than I like to admit (doubtful).

News flash: people aren’t stupid and if you’re bullshitting someone, chances are… they know.

And let’s be honest, many Iranian girls have a tendency to be the sweetest, most loving person to your face – but behind your back, all hell breaks loose.

Our culture produces the epitome of “poz-dadan.” Translation: uhhh fake mother f#ckers.

And why is that?

We’re taught from early on that we need to create an image.  An image that somehow proves we are better, that we are superior to our peers.

The image we create of ourselves somehow leads to our “survival” in the Iranian community. [Read more…]

Don’t say the D word

Hiii joonjoons,

We decided that tonight we would take a little break from the SEX and BLOW JOBS- keeping shock value at a minimum ;)

Growing up, my parents were the epitome of Iranian parents & “poz-dadan” (show-off) .

My mom had a BOMB ass home cooked meal ready on the table by the time my dad got home from work every night.  They had an active social life going to mehmoonis (parties) on a regular basis and spending hours talking to their friends about what the fuck that one bitch was wearing at the last one (obvs- more so mom than dad).  On the outside, they were the perfect couple.  Happy, loving… bullshit.

Fake love is everywhere– Zac’s gay (sorry ladies).

The second we would get back into the car to go home from the mehmooni, the bickering started.  My mom would bitch at my dad and my dad would ignore her causing her to get more agitated.  It wasn’t until high school, when the fighting really started getting out of hand.  Nightly dinners were still prepared, but we ate in silence or rather… I ate in silence while my parents yelled at each other.  My mother being the typical Peeersian drama queen would yell, talk shit and throw things, while my dad just sat there and took it.  Luckily, my brother was too young to remember these times.  But I wasn’t.  I remember.

Dueling it out….kids in the car.

For the longest time, I fantasized about the day when my mom (or dad) would grow some balls and either work their issues out or just call it quits.  I remember eavesdropping on my mother’s phone conversations to her family in Iran where she would emphasize, “No, I’m absolutely not happy- I want to kill him.  I am only staying with him for my kids.”  BIGGEST BULLSHIT STATEMENT EVER.

Don’t ever think that KIDS are stupid enough to not know what’s going on. Don’t think that kids are stupid enough to believe that its normal for parents to fight. And most importantly, don’t think kids are stupid enough to not feel the tension that fills the room even when parents pretend like everything is normal.

We aren’t stupid.

OK minus him, he might be a little stupid. Akheyy

I was 16 years old when I asked my mom to divorce my dad.

I was tired of the yelling.  I was tired of dreading to have to leave school and go back to the house of hell.  But even more so- I didn’t want my little brother to have grow up with angry, bitter parents like I did.  Whether some parents realize it or not (or most often– later rather than sooner), their actions towards one another sets an example: My parent’s horrible relationship would have only taught my brother that “Yes, it is okay to talk to your wife like that” and “Yes, marriage is just a contract, you don’t have to respect each other.”

Of course, after my family owned up to their issues and decided to do what IS best for their kids (the D word), it set off the gossip stream throughout the Iranian community.  Some of my mother’s closest friends shunned her (Ten years later, I’m still disgusted). Their response?

“How can you leave him? What are YOU going to do?”

And worst of all, people chose sides and it was rarely my mother’s side that was chosen.  I was so MAD when I saw the way her so-called FRIENDS treated her after the divorce until I realized one thing:


It took several years before my parent’s Persian “friends” were able to act normal with them. And the FUNNIEST PART was my mother started a trend within our little Persian community.  At least three other families who didn’t have the balls to own up to their issues ended up getting divorced (or “legally separated” aka divorce without the commitment) after my parents did.

The Iranian community puts a huge emphasis on family, but:

why can’t we still be a happy, functioning family even if our parents aren’t together?

My father stepped up in ways he had never stepped up before the divorce.  He actually started to make an effort to be PRESENT in both my life and my brother’s.  Not just that, my relationship improved tremendously with both my parents after they broke up.  Its almost a similar concept as having sex before marriage:

sometimes tradition isn’t RIGHT.

Everyone leads different lives and its up to us to be able to be strong enough to roll with the punches and make the right decisions.  (And no, “right decision” does not mean what your mother or “God” told you, it means: what makes YOU happy).

An Award-winning film that deals with the ‘D’ word: less melodrama, and more REALISM.

A Separation


Are you going to go after what you believe in or are you going to shun me because I do? Let us know- we loooove hearing from our precious joonies:


Here’s to bashing tradition,

Farrah فراه
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