The Great Blog Geehad

When I first started blogging, I emailed a bunch of established bloggers and was generally extra extroverted with the blogosphere. I made some good blog friends and continue to chat with a lot of them. I did not want a small, unread blog. I was after a boutique, vaguely-read blog and I seem to’ve achieved that.

That said, it is time for the new wave. It is time to go Bauhaus (pre post-modernism) on this blog. To get all up jihadi in this here place. So let’s try a courtship of sorts. I’ma gonna email various shady folks from Pakistan and Saudi Arabia and maybe even France (if I am feeling frisçée) with the following email:

Ya ikhwan/akhwan! Salaam Alaykums!

Yo, I am new to the jihad game. I am a laid-back (waaaay back) jerhadi who gave up a life of smoove kafarism to join this here jihad racket. I am looking for tips, encouragement, shwarma recipes. And answers to my questions. Mostly they are the queries of a beginner on the path:

-How do I keep my internal jihad from going external? I am thinking I am pretty internal and boom, I get all external with it. Any thoughts short of buying new wardrobe items? (I used to rock skinny jeans pretty hard, but going external in ‘dose bad-boys, look out. I got stories! Let’s just say I’m no longer welcome in Farhad’s Falafel House over in Echo Park.)

-Is body waxing haram? I’m caged out here in the sunny shores of Cali and they wax everything, and I mean everything: their legs, their surfboards, their ’67 Camaroes, their backs (yes, imagine that, ouchies), even battleships!

-I am looking for penpals from other countries. Do you know anyone who likes to chat with an American on-line on a blog? I am harmless, jihad-centric. I would say I am a Capricorn, but I left those western games behind for the eat-sleep-fight jihad hard-corps.

I may be lite (easy, crazy, cool) with my request, but I am looking to engage in some pretty heartfelt dialogue on anything you all want to talk about with a dude from California. Do you have a favorite imam or mullah? (In California, we pronounce money, moolah. So when a mullah has really got it going on, as in on his game, do you say ‘dat mullah is moolah, yo!)

Anyway, go to this link. (Link here.) I call myself the Mellow Jihadi. And when asked if it is true, as in: how can you be a mellow and a jihadi, I say, look dude, don’t harsh my jihadi, don’t make me go all mellow on you! (Um, actually swap those out. Don’t harsh my mellow, don’t make me get all jihadi on you…)

Ma’salaama! Laters!

-MJ

I await with fishy, baited breath. This should be interesting. I could go nowhere. Or I could get a couple of responses. One thing I’ve found is most folks don’t bother to read other pages when responding to a new blog. I usually do, but I may be nerdish.

Or maybe, I should try the more sedate approach:

Hello! I am looking to engage in a dialogue about jihad. Please go here to join in the conversation. Your reply is appreciated!

What do you think? Which one should I go with? My intention is to just troll the internet and send out mass emails. Don’t tell anyone, but this is a good way to generate more readers. It is like chumming, no pun intended. When we do decide, please feel free to send the new link I put up to anyone in the Middle East or beyond who might have an opinion on the jihad racket.

We got ourselves a blog, might as well go attack the blogosphere. I feel like a Lamborghini owner with a tankful of gas, heading out of El Lay onto the grapevine. Onward!

Brad Pitt Rides an Ecosse Titanium Bike

The next time Brad Pitt tries to lecture me (through some media forum) about ecology and being green and all that, please remind me to remind him that he rides an Ecosse Titanium Series XX bike, the most expensive motorcycle in the world. One made out of titanium. That costs more than a Lamborghini. So I just don’t want to hear the green bizness outta him. (Not that I begrudge him buying anything he wants.)

Hey Habibi, Here’s Yer Lykan Hypersport!

The Middle East is infamous for not producing anything other than oil, hummus, and pop-songs with habibi in them. Chalk up the Lykan Hypersport, from Lebanese entrepreneur and designer Ralph Debbas’ W Motors, as the first supercar from the region:

Lykan Hypersport, from Dubai-based startup W Motors

Lykan Hypersport, from Dubai-based startup W Motors

Supercars are a common sight in some parts of the Middle East, but until now, that region of the world has gone without an exotic of its own. Enter the Lykan Hypersport, an ultra-exclusive ride from Dubai-based startup W Motors. The upcoming car is said to accelerate from 0-62 mph in 2.8 seconds and offer Lamborghini-rivaling style for $3.4 million, according to WardsAuto.

The Lykan Hypersport is the brainchild of Lebanese entrepreneur and designer Ralph Debbas, who began thinking up the supercar when he was an automotive design student. The wild, angular seven-figure exotic will be officially revealed to the public at the Qatar auto show, where W Motors will display a full-scale model made of carbon fiber and other lightweight materials, and built with help from specialty coachbuilder Magna Steyr Torino. The model currently lacks an interior and drivetrain, but will be powered by a midship flat-six engine from RUF, the company famous for custom Porsches.

Hey habibi, this sled is you!

A Lamborghini, Not a Ferrari

National Geographic, National Geographic. (Head shake.) Tsk tsk. If you are going to do a photo special on Abu Dhabi, please label your supercars properly:

Shoppers in Marina Mall get a close look at a Ferrari on display.

That is, of course, a Lamborghini, not a Ferrari. That looks vaguely like the slick Lambo LP 550-2:

Lamborghini LP 550-2

Minus the Italian racing stripe. . .

Lamborghini Urus Concept

Read this blog long enough, and you will run into a Lamborghini post or two. It began with a Countach and my oggling them as a kid. Even if I were a millionaire (I’m not) I doubt I would drive a Lambo. Too worrisome. Still, I enjoy looking at their latest. And that would be the Urus:

Lamborghini Urus Concept

The least-kept secret of the Beijing Motor Show spilled out today with the leak of these renderings showing Lamborghini’s proposed new sport utility vehicle. Dubbed the Urus, the concept SUV would be Lamborghini’s bid to cash in on the booming global market for high-end luxury SUVs — if customers can accept the strange blend of supercar angles and racing tires on a high-riding hatchback.

While Lamborghini has flourished with new models under its ownership by Volkswagen, profits have remained elusive. With Porsche thriving thanks to its Cayenne SUV, other automakers now wonder just how big the market for people movers with some off-road capability might be; BMW keeps adding to its already full range of luxury SUVs, while Lamborghini stablemate Bentley’s idea of the EXP 9F concept shows the dangers inherent in the concept. Lamborghini execs have said they have yet to win approval to build it — but given demand for big vehicles in China and the Middle East, that seems like a formality ahead of a 2017 arrival.

Unlike Bentley, Lamborghini has a history with trucks; the LM002 SUV set the mold that the Hummer H2 would attempt to fill two decades later.

My only quibble would be the name. Urus. It has an odd ring to it.

A Lamborghini Aventador Catches on Fire

A Lamborghini Aventador does not come cheap. The list price is 400K and there is a wait around the block and miles up the street for one. (Well, maybe not that long, considering the price.)

Three pictures captured the events up in San Joaquin (on the 73 Freeway) yesterday when a Lambo caught on fire:

A Lamborghini Aventador at Newport Beach Lambo

 A matte black Lamborghini Aventador caught fire and burned down on the 73 Freeway near Los Angeles today.

During a test drive on Sunday, a Lamborghini Aventador worth $400,000 went up in flames in San Joaquin Hills in a spontaneous episode caught on video

According to witnesses the fire started near the left rear wheel, after the fire brigade extinguished the fire the completely burned down wreck has been transported to Lamborghini Newport Beach where the cause of the fire will be investigated. This matte black Lamborghini Aventador which was on a test drive with a potential customer when it ignited has the sad honor of being the first Lamborghini Aventador that burned down.

Behind the clown, a burnt Lamborghini Aventador, San Joaquin Hills

Sad story. Insurance will pay for it. Still, a burnt car. A Lambo. Sniff, sniff. . .

Eight Ferraris, a Lamborghini, Two Mercedes, and a 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS: All Wrecked

This has got to hurt the pocketbooks and tear ducts of some car enthusiasts:

An outing of luxury sportscar enthusiasts in Japan ended in an expensive freeway pileup — smashing a stunning eight Ferraris, a Lamborghini and two Mercedes likely worth more than $1 million together.

Crashed Ferrraris, Lamborghini, & Mercedes, Chugoku Expressway in Shimonoseki, Japan

But that was not the only sob story involving expensive red cars crashing. Ready your hankies yet again (or if you are in the body shop business, get the dent puller, tig welder, and patience ready.)

Ndamukong Suh lied about the Portand car accident in his 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS

Whose car is that? Remember Ndamukong Suh?

Just after the accident happened at approximately 1 a.m. Saturday, Suh told Portland police that he was passing a taxi cab when he lost control of his 1970 Chevy Coupe and crashed into a tree. He told police that nobody in the car was injured, and no tickets or citations were given.

But two people in the car have since spoken to Portland TV station KGW, and their versions of the accident and its effects differ quite seriously from Suh’s version at the scene.

Sad. All those red cars. Gone. And Ndamukong Suh’s reputation. Also adios’d. I imagine he will talking to Roger, yet again.

Around the World in 72 Days with Kimbo Kardashian

Midnight at the NavyOne Mansion.

I sit on a leathered chair, a brandy snifter in one hand, a fire gently snapping in the fireplace, and my man-servant Igor nowhere to be found. I close the screen to my laptop and glare around the room.

Igor! Hey Igor. . .

(He appears in the doorway, eyes bulging.) Yes, Master?

Do you think it odd that the one day I post on Kim Kardashian, she is later in the news for divorcing her husband?

Odd how, Master?

I BLOGGED ON HER HOURS BEFORE SHE ANNOUNCED HER DIVORCE!

(Igor grimaces.)

Whoops, sorry for yelling, Iggy. But imagine my surprise. Can you play some Halloween music, please?

Yes, Master. (Igor fiddles with a contraption on the mantle and creepy Halloween music clings to the air.) Could blogging about someone make them divorce their husband?

I don’t think that is how it works, Igor. Cut the Halloween music, will you? What about a Viennese waltz. . . Also, get out our nicest lady fingers. Offer them to our readers, please.

Yes, Master.

Oh and Igor, use our best silver tray.

Master, we only have one silver tray.

Shhhhh. (I gesture madly, with an angry elbow, at the blogging audience. At you.) Now please, Igor!

Yes, Master. (He disappears, only to return moments later. I frown.)

Igor, those lady fingers are attached to ladies! When I said lady fingers, I meant the cookie, the cakey wafer. (I smile weakly at the women.) Sorry ladies. Igor, return those fair damsels from wherest they were fetched!

As you wish, Master. (Igor clomps out of the room with the two non-wench-like ladies. Two minutes elapse and finally my man-servant returns. I look up from my laptop.)

Well Igor, the Kar-dashing-through-the-snow post was on coyotes and the fact that Kim and her sister Khloe’s mugs turn up whenever I google Calabasas. Apparently, they live near there.

Do tell, Master.

Her father was a lawyer, involved in the OJ Simpson case. The Bravo channel at the gym taught me all I know of their family.

Ah, Bravo. (Igor grinned a wide grin. As if he had caught me reading Tiger Beat magazine, the May 2011 issue, the one with Taylor Swift on page 42. And possibly, I’ve heard, page 43. Or listening to Nicki Minaj a beaucoup. Or some other pap pop schmear.)

Igor! I do not watch that show by choice.

Of course, Master. Who does?

I was spared the audio. While on the elliptical trainer, I listen to music. Bruce Jenner is her step-father. He walks around their house, in a  glory-days-gone-by trance, doing daddly things. Like the stain-the-deck-atholon.

I stained the deck once, Master. I dropped a PBJ on it, and tracked grape jelly all across the redwood.

Igor!

It is no longer redwood, but purple-wood.

Is that not the name of Prince’s house?

It could be, Master. Why are we talking about the Kardashians?

Did you not read what cartoony Kimbo said about her now-deceased nuppies:

“I felt like I was on a fast roller coaster and couldn’t get off when now I know I probably should have,” Kardashian blogged Tuesday.

“I got caught up with the hoopla and the filming of the TV show that when I probably should have ended my relationship, I didn’t know how to and didn’t want to disappoint a lot of people.”

Confirms a Kardashian pal: “She felt like she couldn’t turn back. She got in over her head. She made a big mistake and she knows it.”

Sad, Master. I missed the story. I don’t know how I have quite survived without this life-affirming news. Poor girl. And that pitiful basketball player who was married to her. No more grabbing rebounds for him, I suppose.

Igor! She brings shame to the blogging world. Who allowed her into the blogo-square? Not me. In another non-oil-of-olayed wrinkle, some lady is organizing a protest of the dashing Kardashians:

No more Kardashians! That’s the message a Denver area woman is promoting in an online petition, which is getting thousands of signatures.

Cyndy Snider, 41, started the petition in early November and nearly 2 weeks later. . .

What is the response, Master, to the pro-test? Or should I say, amateur-test? 

I tell you Igor, some people have got too much time on their hands and not enough hobbies, like blogging about tyrannical bloggers and their fictional man-servants. The lady has even received death threats over it:

While Snider’s disapproval of the show has gained support, there has been some serious backlash.

“I’ve had death threats. That’s been my latest, in the past 2 days I’ve had death threats. . . over the Kardashians.”

What else do you need me for, Master?

That is all, Igor. Please add Kimbo Kardashian, and her 72-day marriage to Kris Humphries, to the list of topics never to blog about again.

Yes, Master. (He gives the audience, you, an I’ve-heard-this-before smile.) The list is in the dungeon. Will you be needing anything else tonight?

No, Igor. Good work today.

Thanks, Master.

(He turns, humming to himself. Checking my list. Checking it twice. Checking to see who’s been naughty or nice. Kimbo Kardash is coming to town. Kimbo Kardash is coming to town. . .)

Igor, what did I say about singing?

Sorry, Master. Will you be needing the Lamborghini tomorrow?

I don’t think so.

Very well. Goodnight, Master.

‘Night, Igor.

(Down the hall, I can hear his faint warble. Kimbo Kardash is coming to town.)

I shake my head. Good help is hard to find, nothing like finding good blog readers. Publish a ridiculous post and blog readers, they will smile. And groan. Yes?