How and why online delivery services will fail in the squire-mile capital Male'

by our very cool geeky looking icon of online correspondent

It capitalizes on other failures.

1. FAILURE OF PEOPLE: to get up on their own butts and get it and make the courts independent. Obviously anyone using this service would have an iphone like phone and a wave like motorcycle and would be familiar with lavaza culture. And people will never fail!

2. FAILURE OF MALE' PUBLIC TRANSPORT SYSTEM: though the government has pledged to connect all islands, our Male' municipality has yet to employ someone with the capacity to conceive the necessity here. Perhaps the local council elections will change this.

3. FAILIURE TO RECOGNIZE THE POTENTIAL MARKET FOR THE RESTAURANTS: most restaurants already has this service. Its very few places like Seahouse that are still technologically a little behind without an online menu for delivery. But this is destined to change which would leave only the bad ones like Hotel Baadhalaa 2 for deliveries.

If not absorbed by a restaurant chain which can be advertised as "Lemongrass buys out fancyname.com for an undisclosed sum" equivalent to a fraction of money that would easily do a basic website for them. Thus this modern day aigaadiyaa dhemun delivery will not sustain. Sorry cool guys. It's not as bad as wataniya's new website though. But we'll only know how from a future podcast about this. I really love that.

The best use of Newspapers

Unwrapping the tip of the cone. Slowly with my fingers. Placing it upside-down on to my mouth. Slowly rolling it a little with my two fingers. Index finger and thumb. Tapping it now. And then the precum and the great ejaculation, oh my god, ejaculating from the newspaper cone into my mouth is the sweet taste of killi. Blood red in color mixed with sugar previously chewed by a sweaty old man, made with fermented "Foah" and bileh. In the hottest sun. The cum killi is dancing in my mouth. Oh badhbanjaae! My mouth secrete extra saliva lubricating it.

Wow what a feeling. A disco in my mouth while I walk to my Wave125i. And then I sit and look at myself on the rear-view-mirror, oh how handsome. I am selfgay, I am definitely. And then my mouth expels a viscous sip of saliva mixed with red killi on to the ground making my symbol. I am thinking of Abdullah Hameed - our sexy gay spokesperson. What a body he has. Oh all male people come to our gay gathering at 12:35pm every friday and don't bring your wives. because our dicks are lubricated and ready for asses. Killi dreams and killli cones. Oh... baadh banjaae!!

I am proud to be an Indian!

Ahhh. Long time no blogging. I thought blogging would go out of fashion and i dont want to do old fashion things because I'm cool. Now i am in Maley studying IT and selling IT things to my atoll. Starbux is the coolest hangout place. And MEGA (& lowyat) is for best shopping. We also play futsal and get sponsors.

Many of us hate it when people specially taxi drivers ask "are you indian"? Maldivian's hate that question. But I don't hate it. I get kind of proud when they ask me that. Because India is much better in every way than Maldives. They have a better history, better culture and a better life. And they are much cooler too! Why else would the Beatles go to india for soul seeking? And what about the Slumdog Millionaire?

The truth is Maldivians look so much like people from the Indian subcontinent (including Paki, Bangla etc) that even most of my coolest dhivehi friends mistake us for indians. Sometimes people say that I look like Hirthik and no one will refuse a dance invitation from the sexy Kareena.

Our indian resemblance is undeniable. The help indian gavarumant is giving us is keeping our economy. They are doing most of the work building our country. They use our country (and Malay) better than the natives. And we Maldives government is doing everything india is telling us to do with so many Millions of $$$! So we are cool Indians!

An accident near Alivaage, Male', Maldives tonight

People were gathered near Alivaage. I thought Illabe (president's brother in-law) has done something again. He was banished (to Singapore) and house arrested in the 90s for attempting to overthrow the president internally influencing parliamentarians and cabinet members. Illabe himself held few Ministerial portfolios at that time including Defense Minister. When Gayyoom discovered the plan, state radio, TV and newspaper defamed him with allegations of corruption, sexual harassment and black magic. His brother Abbabe was also removed from the cabinet and until now is unable to get any solid post back. Illabe is powerful and is connected to the largest corporations of Maldives (via marriage links and others). Illabe (& his sister Natti & their mother) were able to black mail Gayyoom to win back a ministerial post (just one this time) and cleared all charges and erased the memory of that incident and the media statements from the peoples minds using rocket science. Audio tape and Sato case is another story magicians disappeared using blue magic.

Unfortunately people gathered near Alivaage tonight were not attending another performance by Illabe and his magicians. I heard from an onlooker that two cars collided. I did not stop. Just rode the Wave with my closest friend engaged in our never-ending conversation about society, the world, the universe and beyond.

Half and hour later we came back to the site. Most people were gone by then. A group of about 10 men of ages between 30 an 40 where around the area. I over head one saying... "...it was coming the wrong way... the boy was driving too fast...". A block away another group of men over 40 saying "... he was drunk... drugs would have been involved... police did not do anything... he will be out tomorrow hitting another innocent man...". another block away this time a group of middle aged women were gathered discussing "...his mother is married to her 3rd husband... his father is known to have extra-marital sex... his bother is illegitimate... his sister is a slut..." and so on.

We just rode our ride. Peacefully within ourself.

Ifthah Ya Sim Sim and Sheik Afrasim

Years of watching Ifthah Ya Sim Sim on TVM specially on the long mornings of fridays made my Arabic better than ever before. Watching them run and ride bicycles on the streets of Arab world taught me how to run and ride bicycles. Haazaa Kithaab, this is a blog. Some of my friends were very deep into this Ifthah Ya Sim Sim. They went to Mauhadh Dhiraasathul Islamiyya and passed each grade with Jayyed Jiddan reports. Masha Allah to all of them.

When TVM cut this show the younger generation were unable to get a nicer Arabic introduction. They were forced to leave to Pakistan and do Madhrasa Sim Sim where they leaned how to imitate riding of camels and horses. These are the people experiencing an identity crisis these days. You will see it very clearly from the fashion they adopt.

I want our children to watch Ifthah Ya Sim Sim and Sesame Street. I will tell our Kutti who runs a useless ministry this. It will close our religious divide instead of plugging in some AfraSim Sim.

Male' Jihad living on 2.5th floor with a cupboard bedroom

Surprise Surprise! Today I was at Juway's Cafe and I met my friend Jihad (Jihattey) who is a assistant to the junior accountant grade B in a big company in Male'. Jihattey was very happy and said he's married and now living in his own apartment. Jihattey invited me to his apartment to meet his wife.

Jihattey's Bajaj scooter was very quick to take us to his apartment in Kuda Henveiru. It was a house I used to go. But from the outside it looked a little taller. We went in. The house would have been no bigger than a typical Boakosha Kada (hair saloon) in Male'. About 12ft by 12ft.

The downstairs is the saloon. The hair artist with posters of Tamil film stars design the Maldivians hair to look cool. The first floor was used by the family of the house. We climbed to there on a ladder. The family of 8 lives there with some of their in-laws. Then comes Jihattey's floor. Another ladder we climbed up.

First thing i noticed is that the floor height is a bit low. It ' look odd to my friend Jihattey because Jihattey and Maumoon are just about the same height. But Jihattey's wife who introduced herself to me as Zulfa lives there a bit bended over. Zulfa says she's very happy with Jihattey and to my surprise she invited me to a surprise party she's planning to have there tonight. Zulfa is very busy preparing cakes and things.

I got more surpized with Jihattey when he showed me their maid who came out of a cupboard. Their maid lives in the cupboard. Jihattey says the maid makes things easy for Zulfa and the maid is from Bangladesh.

Now Jihattey is saving to buy an air-corn and a sports car to make Zulfa happy.