Saint Fareed to Host the Ultimate Show Before Departing to Hell

by Mohamed Headset

 

St. Fareed, one of the most well-known Gatekeepers of Hell, is preparing to give a final “Ultimate” show to the people of the Maldives before departing back to Hell to resume his duties at the Fiery Gates.

He said that since this would be his “Ultimate Final” show, it would be the most epic!

“Like nothing the world has ever seen or will again,” he promised.

Speaking to Bakhabaru reporters last night, the reviled scholar of all things damned and about-t0-be-damned expressed his satisfaction with his brief but eventful stay on Earth these last several years.

“I have managed to accomplish many of the targets I set out to accomplish when I fled from Hell a couple of years back,” St. Fareed told Bakhabaru reporters while twirling the twin ends of his famous bifurcated beard between the thumb and index finger of each hand. “I have become very famous in the Maldives, performing live to packed stadiums, rooms, bedrooms and corridors on many, many occasions. Valentine’s Day has been renamed to St Fareed’s Day in the Maldives. I host seminars on advanced sex techniques where I get to do live demonstrations with female audience members. All in all, I can honestly say that my smug mug is more famous than Jesus himself in this no-camel country. And thanks to my celebrity status as someone you don’t wanna f*** with, I have been able to fulfill my lifelong dream of having sex with more than just my hand. There are other reasons too… a lot of them in fact, but I can’t really recall any off the top of my head right now.”

When asked why this will be his final performance before departing to complete his several centuries long tenure as one of the Gatekeepers of Hell, St Fareed said that even though he was cleverer than most Hell-spawn, he couldn’t evade the minions of Hell forever.

“It’s a constant struggle trying to evade them,” he said. “It’s pretty exhausting. I’ve tried dark sunglasses, joke disguises, new beard-styles including several kinds of fancy braids with colourful bows, hiding in a black ninja buruga, everything… but they always find me in the end. So I finally made a deal with them. Hell has offered me a pretty sweet deal if I come back and resume my duties and this is not the kind of offer I want to turn down. My harem of beautiful women in Male’ is pretty awesome… but they can’t compare to the slutty women I can get in Hell, you know. They can do things to a man that you couldn’t even imagine… ooooh… gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. brrrrr! Oh yeah, that’s the stuff! Soooo… anyhoo,  it’s time to say goodbye to my followers and take this party back to Hell.”

St Fareed - although pretty well-known in some circles that believe that the length of a man’s trousers and bad fashion sense was the key to Heaven - didn’t burst into public limelight until wanted posters from Hell began appearing all over Male’ some years back. It was later revealed that the wanted posters had been a failed attempt by the minions of Hell who had tried to capture St Fareed through the clever use of advertising. The posters had proclaimed in bold letters: “Who is Hell calling for? Saint Fareed!” The minions had expected the decent people of Male’ would immediately seek St. Fareed out, apprehend him and turn him over. However, Hell had underestimated St. Fareed’s cleverness, for he promptly turned the posters to his advantage and proceeded to host a show where he regaled rapt audiences with tales of his swashbuckling adventures in Hell . Everyone loves a good adventure-horror-love story and the show was packed. Overnight, St Fareed became a sensation! Several successful jam-packed shows cemented his status as one of the best horror-story tellers around.

“They say to talk about what you know, and as a Gatekeeper of Hell for several centuries, I know Hell pretty much as well as anybody possibly can,” St Fareed said. “That is the secret of my success. Every now and then you’d get one of those silly skeptics or idiotic atheists coming up to me after one of my stellar shows and asking me how the Hell, no pun intended, I know so much about Hell. Have I been to Hell? Flaming idiots! Of course I have! This is also the big difference between me and my archrival Saint Ilyas.”

The rivalry between St Fareed and St Ilyas has been well documented for a while. While the former has reached near cult figure status among his followers due to the unimaginably violent scenes he portrays in his fantastical stories, the latter has amassed a similar following through the subtle manipulation of their more carnal desires and feeding cleverly disguised but still explicit pornography to the masses. Both had tried to get their names associated with Valentine’s Day which has never ever and will never ever be celebrated in the Maldives. Ever.

While St. Fareed had won that contest and been officially declared the patron saint of all Maldivian lovers, St Ilyas had not taken his defeat in that particular contest lying down. Taking the time to hone his storytelling technique to a fine point, St Ilyas went on a whirlwind tour to promote his vision of what Heaven was like, and in short while became the Maldivian equivalent to what the bastard love-child of Hugh Heffner and Larry Flynt would have been, if that was even possible of course.

“While I actually know what I am talking about when I tell my loyal followers about the majesty and wonders of Hell, that Fake Ilyas has no idea what he’s talking about,” St Fareed said through gritted teeth, spittle flying out in all directions and some dripping from the ends of his twin beards like water-drops from a melting icicle. “Talking about the virgins of Heaven and going into detail about every smooth sinuous curve and every soft bump of their bodies… you’d think he’d actually seen or maybe even touched one of them doe-eyed eternal virgins he speaks so fondly of. But I know it isn’t so. Why, I bet he hasn’t even been in a foursome yet! The hypocrite! I’ve already booked his ticket to Hell. Oh I’m going to enjoy kicking him in through the gates of Hell. Hyuk hyuk! Oh by the way, where is that slutty whore of a reporter who interviewed me the last time around… Aishath Antenna, was it? Where is she? I’ve been looking for her for a while now. Would have made a good addition to my har… HEY! Where are you going? Come back here! Where is she??? She wants me too! I know it! GET BACK HERE NOW, YOU HELL-FODDER!!!”

Bakhabaru has been notified that St Fareed’s final warning, titled “Farewell The Russ” (so far we have been unable to find out who or what “The Russ” is), will be held tomorrow night at some place in Male’. Those interested in having the living excrement scared out of them by horror stories too horrifying to relate here, are encouraged to attend. While entry to the show is free, use of toilets is subject to a small charge.

The Skinny Disease

And now for something entirely different from our spanking new roving reporter, Ahmed Widescreen!

So you are at an intersection waiting for the light to go green. The day is hot and ever so bright. You only want to curse that bastard who came up with the silly idea of waiting turns to cross an intersection under the bloody hot sun. Then your mind wanders, whether you should find a better spot with shade under a tree perhaps, or set your bike gear to one so you can speed off faster than the Paatey who always seems to be running late for a Bike Racers Association meeting or something.

 
Then you notice the Paatey.

Paateys, they have always been a notorious bunch. Calling themselves vicious names like that ‘country with that war’. Or associating themselves with animalistic logos that strike fear in to our non-gangster hearts and makes us shit in to our non-threatening underwear.

 

Boo!

This particular Paatey was one of the “infected”. By a fashion trend so devastating that people who are subjected to this god-awful plague rarely recover. (Unless you willingly burn your entire wardrobe, friends, and family and let Mr Old Spice buy you new clothes and give yourself a petroleum jelly enema.)

SKINNY JEANS! Of a color I can only describe as baby shit yellow. The notorious Paatey was wearing baby shit yellow skinny jeans. Then you see the person on the passenger seat of his Airblade. (A type of scooter; associated with Paateys for unknown reasons) It is another Paatey with skinny jeans, this time I can only describe the color as “FALOODHA”.

 
It’s pink but more delicious in a totally gay perspective.

For the readers who are unaware of what a skinny jeans is. They are very very tight pants made for women. Yet some people insist that it is unisex. How do we know that it is made for women and not for men? Easy. There is physically no room for the man’s junk in those pants.

 

NO VACANCY!!!!

Unless you have equipment of microscopic scale, you would need surgery to remove your manhood before you can masquerade in one of these jeans. For the few who are able wear them you either have to wear it below bum line exposing your boxers or get a job voicing for one of the chipmunks. Sadly this is not a style by choice; it’s a disease.

It’s a disease affecting the youth of 2010. Targeting the semi-confused-borderline-Hipster Paateys.  The disease first started off in a stealthy black, like a ninja. Then after creating its presence in the minds of the Paateys who wants to secretly look fabulous, they started to evolve into even more terrifying forms, COLORS!!!

Egad! They are everywhere!!!

At that moment I felt sorry for the infected Paateys. They had no idea about the disease which was slowly killing their originality and uniqueness. We don’t know when this unisex, metro mumbo-jumbo decided to invade the men’s world. It might have started with the confused Paateys deciding to wear Eyeliner (Guyliner or Gayliner if you want to be accurate) in the confused hopes of looking like Jack Sparrow or the Village Whore. Or maybe it started when another confused Paatey decided to highlight his hair in bright pink in the hopes of being more attractive to the opposite/same sex. We would never know. But now that we know we have a problem we can tackle it head on. Recent studies showed that 3 out of 4 skinny jeans are worn by men.

Guess which one is the girl?

There have been frequent extreme cases, few irreversible infections and the rare miraculously cured Paateys from this disease. This small country faced with such a massive worldwide problem should ask ourselves: “Is the government doing anything about this?”
“Yes” Stated the Chief of Commissioner of Fashion Police of the Maldives, Mr. Ey Faseeh, in a press briefing about these extreme cases of skinny jeans. “We are currently raiding the homes of the extreme skinny jeansed men, confiscating their entire wardrobe. We are also offering them a rehabilitation program and a new wardrobe with regular awesome men’s clothing.” Mr. Ey Faseeh did not comment any further as he was too busy sporting awesome men’s fashion apparels.

If you have a friend or a family member who is a Paatey and might be in danger of being infected by the skinny jeans disease, please do the merciful thing and kill them.

 

Hurry!! Before we are all doomed!!!

Big Brother Isn’t Amused

by Aishath Antenna

After just about having had enough of the local drama, Sri Lanka President Mahinda Rajapaksa – who singlehandedly beat the Tamil Tigers’ collective terrorist ass – had to make an impromptu visit to the Maldives to give a short but sweet lesson in democracy and statesmanship to the Maldivian politicians.

Recipients of Rajapaksa’s lesson were President Anni (who got an hour long earful that Anni later admitted was the kind of terror-filled lecture you can only describe as piss-in-your-pants while trembling-in-your-little-booties), Opposition Leader Hon. Thasmeen (whose ear got twisted so hard his other ear bled) and Speaker Shahid (who got thoroughly spanked and actually begged for more).

After the lecture was administered Rajapaksa was overheard saying how embarrassed he was of how Maldivian politicians were trying to play the game. He derided them for making him miss the fun back home with his own Government, where his Cabinet was harassing the UN with the old reliable hunger-strike routine right at the doorstep of UN Building in Colombo.

“Let me just say I am not happy. Not happy at all,” he boomed at a few Bakhabaru reporters, who steadfastly held on for dear life to anything that was fastened to the floor in order to avoid being blown away by the hurricane force of his words and spicy breath. “I have our drama queen Minister twitching and gasping on the ground in front of the UN as if he was a fish out of water about to become sushi, and here I am trying to mediate these clowns like they are school kids. I am disgusted!”

He then glared at Chief Justice, Abdulla Saeed, who scuttled away from the disapproving Big Brother.

“I sent in the little guy first. But he wasn’t good enough for Mini-Moon so I had to come down myself to shake some sense into these people,” he boomed at the rapidly diminishing figure of the Chief Justice.

Bakhabaru reporters were able to clarify that the little guy mentioned above just happened to be the Sri Lankan Foreign Minister, Peiris.

Before departing Malé, Rajapaksa was heard muttering that he didn’t want to come down again, and for the Maldivian politicians to clean up their acts. As the plane took off from the International Airport, a loud and ominous “I AM WATCHING YOU!” boomed across the runway, scampering the officials and key people in politics gathered to see him away.

Maldivian politics temporarily disrupts World Cup

by Ahmed Satellite
The whole country nearly took up arms yesterday when the drama-queens at the local watering hole known as the Parliament Building staged a mass resignation. Maldivians all over the country nearly had massive coronaries when they realized that this new twist in the latest episode of the longtime running Kasauti Majlis Kee series could mean that the all important World Cup matches might not be shown LIVE, as they should be.

Police, the Cub Scouts, school bands and the army were immediately dispatched around the country to quell any disturbances that might potentially arise but that was proven to be totally unnecessary when the matches were broadcast LIVE as previously scheduled. It is unknown at present what had prompted the drama-queens of the Majlis to resign but is generally believed that it was the shock of finding something that they ALL actually agreed on for a change had prompted the action. Others argue that it was a bet that had gone out of control.

“I actually overheard one of the MPs say that if Italy couldn't make it past the group matches then he would resign, and that’s how confident he was of Italy’s chances,” a random person on the road told Bakhabaru reporters. “And then this other MP said: ‘You wouldn’t dare! If you did I’ll resign too. That’s how sure I am that you won't resign!’ Then everyone began taking that bet! It was a really wild night!”

When asked about it President Anni said that he believed that there had been many mistakes made during the last few days that had let to the current situation.

“First it was France that got booted out, and then Italy too,” he told Bakhabaru reporters. “Mostly I believe it was the fault of the officials. They just made too many mistakes and they were unforgivable because all they had to do was look at the bloody big screen TV at the stadiums and check the replays. If they are that blind they have no business refereeing such important matche… er the what now?”

After the momentary confusion was cleared he responded: “The Cabinet resigned? WTF? Which one? The dark brown one? It can do that? Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things? I’ll get back to you on this later. Spain still hasn’t managed to score against Portugal.”

Funny Caption Contest #6

After the embarrassing dismal and lame response to the previous Funny Caption Contest, we seriously considered never ever having a Funny Caption Contest ever again. But this picture was just too good to pass up. So here we go again. See if the two of you who actually visit this blog once or twice a year can actually come up with something even slightly humorous this time. What's that? Winners of that last FCC? Are you kiddin' me? Choose a winner from this? Now that's funny!