Israel 101: The Lebanese Israelis

Perhaps the most fascinating part of the Galilee trip (which begins here) was meeting two former SLA people.

The South Lebanon Army (SLA) is a group of Lebanese army soldiers-turned-mercenaries who have acted as proxies for the Israelis during the occupation of South Lebanon, which began in 1982. When Israel withdrew from South Lebanon, most of the SLA soldiers moved inside Israel, for fear of retaliation by the compatriots.

A bunch of traitors, basically.

But as we all know - following any description with the word ‘basically’ implies that it’s grossly inaccurate, glossing over the complex details to limit the explanation to a line or two.

1. Sylvana.

We met Sylvana when we overheard someone speaking in both French and Arabic in that steak restaurant we ate at. Lisa suggested she’s probably SLA.

I stopped her as she was passing our table, carrying a stack of menus. I asked her if it was her I heard speak Arabic - and we chatted in the language she grew up in for the following 20 minutes, which she enjoyed a lot - she even scolded me once when I started shifting to English... “It’s so good to speak in Arabic! I speak Hebrew very well (she’s fluent) but it gets tiring after a while...”

Despite having recently acquired Israeli citizenship - after a long 7-year wait - Sylvana is Lebanese and proud of it, as she reminded me several times.

Mother of three - her eldest is 16; the youngest was born during the war, 2 years ago. I told her that she looked way too young to be the mother of a 16 years old - her resounding laugh filled the restaurant. “Lebanese girls!”, she said.

She’s lived in Metula for 8 years -since the withdrawal - and has worked in this restaurant, which she now co-owns, for fourteen.

Sylvana is from Marjeyoun, a mere six km north from there. Her family is still there. She gets to call them on occasion, but it’s expensive; calls have to be routed through a third country, as she can’t dial an Israel-Lebanon call.

The day I met her, on Saturday, her aunt had just passed away. She could not call her father to console him. “Good thing I’m at work. It takes my mind off of it”.

As we leave this charming woman, I hug her.

Hugging a traitor, huh?

Shades of grey...

2. Lebanese car wash.

The other SLA I met was a man I randomly hailed at the entrance of the military zone, to ask about ‘Fatma’s gate’, the official border crossing - closed, of course - between Israel and Lebanon. I saw the small plastic cross hanging from his rearview mirror - and tried my luck in Arabic.

“Marhaba”.

“Ahlein”.

“I’m a visitor from Egypt and visiting the region and wanted to see the border crossing”.
(translation: No, I don't work for any secret service; yes, I am that blissfully naive)

He thinks for a few seconds.

“You’re not allowed to cross into the military zone...
(3 more seconds of silence..)
So follow me- try to keep up”.

He speeds away. I hit the gas - thank God for automatic transmission!

We cross the Israel Army’s “Stop! Border in front of you!” sign and drive up for 3 minutes.

We stop a hundred metres away from the border crossing and exit the cars. He gets a sponge a bottle of soap from the trunk - and starts cleaning his car.

100 metres away from the border crossing, 100 metres from the Israeli border soldiers, 101 metres away from the Lebanese army, and 102 metres away from the Hezbollah soldiers - he bloody starts washing his car.

This guy is insane.

It is clinically proven that Lebanese water cleans better!

“You’re in our country here.” He points vaguely around him, doing a half turn around himself. “You’re in Lebanon. Well, almost”.

“I’ve been in this crap country ("هالبلد الخرا"!) for eight years. Eight fucking years. We survive but we’re still shit”.

He almost splashes me as he hoses down his soapy car.

“Fucking soldiers. They wouldn’t dare say anything. I come here every now and then. Washing my car with Lebanese water - no one would dare say anything.”

“See over there? The yellow flag? That’s a Hezbollah flag. These are the biggest traitors. Those fuckers. See how they welcomed that dick Samir Kuntar. That ass gets to go to Lebanon - and I don’t. And you know what’s the funniest part of it? He was never part of Hezbollah. He was with those fuckers, the Palestinians. Screw him, and his Palestinians. ("كس إخته عاكس إخت الفلسطينية بتوعه")”

“That Mubarak of yours - a traitor too. He screwed us all. The one real leader in the region, the one, was that guy before him - Sadat, Anwar El Sadat. He came here, made peace, and got it over with. Now that’s a man”.

(An interesting praise, since I only hear insults when it comes to Sadat around here...)

“You know, I can see my house from here and I can’t even go. See, see over there, on the flank of the hill, the big white building, the one that looks like it has chimney? That’s the village school. Right beneath, the smaller white building?
That’s my house”.

Fatma's Gate - the official border crossing between Israel and Lebanon. Weird, huh?

(Photos 1, 2, 4, 5 and 6 are copyrighted for Lisa Goldman - whose post on this visit is not up yet so you should harass her for it!! :)

Game theory in Poker: Humans vs. Robots

The Financial Times' Tim Harford wrote a column a while back about Von Neumann game theory in poker, and how software developers have been trying to feed game theory rules into a computer that would be able to predict all possible plays. Fascinating.

This paragraph however struck me as -- well, futuristically scary:

"In a pair of exhibition matches concluding the World Poker Robot championships, the big-name professional Phil “Unabomber” Laak was recruited to play the machines. As a partisan crowd chanted “Hu-mans! Hu-mans!” he swiftly disposed of both the Alberta program and the newly minted world champion, a program called PokerPro. Nobody was surprised."

Holy shit. The day when we chant "Hu-mans! Hu-mans!" is already here.
But hey, we're winning.
For now. :)

Israel 101: Standing on the other side of the fence, literally

(Our itinerary. Day 1 is in black, Day 2 is in dark brown).

My visit to the northern border of Israel, separating Israel from Lebanon, has been at the very least... mind blowing!

Seeing Lebanon from 25 metres away is... disconcerting. The only thing I could think of was - I’d like to drive up north to Beirut... which was nearly 80 km away from where we were in Israel, in Metula (which is roughly across the border from Marjeyoun and Khiam).

I could see cars driving in Lebanon. A few men looking back at us from the other side of the border. The mountains. The fields - which were nearly the continuation of those in Israel, if it weren’t for the two consecutive fences and the military road occasionally patrolled by Israeli Jeeps... and tractors driven by Thai labourers.

I actually was in Marjeyoun and Khiam last year. I saw this very Israeli border from there. The Israeli man whom I asked for directions might be the one I saw from Lebanon. The car I saw driving on a distant road could very well be my Lebanese driver, Khalil.

Watching from inside the mirror out is very destabilising. Standing on the other side of the fence - literally - forces you to understand what you didn’t see, what didn’t want to see in yourself and in... in the guy in the mirror.

And nothing seems simple anymore. A black and white dichotomy becomes obsolete, and all you can see if shades of grey.

More stories and many more photos from this trip to come!

Are there any Jewish Mohameds?

Me: Good morning, I'd like to rent a car for the weekend.
Friendly guy: Good morning Sir, thank you for choosing Avis. Can I get your name please?

Me: My name is Mohamed.
Friendly guy: Are you Jewish?

Me: (wondering if the guy is joking.) Excuse me?
Friendly guy: are you Jewish sir?

Me: Hmmm.. no.
Friendly guy: Are you an Israeli citizen?

Me: neither. I am a foreigner.
Friendly guy: Ah. (5 seconds of silence). So, for what dates would you like your car Sir?

Reflexions on the Israeli-Lebanese prisoners-corpses exchange

Hezbollah has returned the bodies of the two Israeli soldiers captured 2 years ago, in a German-brokered Red Cross-mediated exchange which also involves some remains of Israeli soldiers during the 2006 War; on the other side, 5 Lebanese prisoners and 199 Lebanese bodies are awaiting to be sent across the border as well.

Israelis are particularly outraged at the release of one prisoner, Samir Kuntar, who has been in jail in Israel for the past 29 years for murdering an Israeli and his four-year old child (by smashing her head against rocks, no less. Charming man).

I can only understand the bitterness they must be feeling.

To answer a friend's question about 'how can the Lebanese be so jolly at the release of a prick like that' --- I also see why some Lebanese would be overall glad for his release, the twisted logic being 'he killed Israelis, he must be a good guy' -- despite the fact that he was, at the time, affiliated with the Palestinian PFLP. Or perhaps they can see what he did as a (pre-?)revenge for the Israeli killings in Lebanon.

Go figure.

Right now though -- I don't really care about all that. The 201 dead people concerned are, well, dead. I hope their families will get to bury them and maybe find some peace. And Kuntar is a worm anyway so his fate is totally insignificant to me.

Two things, however, deserve a comment:

a) The names of two dead Israeli soldiers have been hammered into our memory. We've been seeing their photos, reading their names, listening to their bios, every single day for the past two years. Even with the exchange underway, the main photo we see is that of their two coffins -not that of the sea of 199 Lebanese coffins.

In the Israeli cabinet, some ministers objected a swap that would involve Israeli remains with live Lebanese; Israeli general chief of staff Gabi Ashkenazi said that "the nation owed it to do everything in its power to win its soldiers' return".

This may be a good soundbite but it's really reflective of the overall Israeli thought about this issue. Stickers with the faces of the soldiers are everywhere in Israel. Even I can remember the URL of the website set up in their honour, so often I have seen it on stickers.

The idea was simple: 'even dead, we need them back, whatever it takes.' So their parents will find their grave to visit.

I find this remarkable and worthy of respect.

Something pisses me off though: Israel cares more about its dead than we seem to care about ours. Hell, they care more about their dead than we seem to do our living.

Why do we not know the names of the other 4 Lebanese prisoners? Why do we not know those of the 199 dead Lebanese whose corpses were held hostage? Why do we not raise hell when our people die? At the hands of the Israelis (what were the names of the two Egyptian soldiers assassinated by the Israelis last year at the border?) or at our own hands (choose your favourite example?)

We're not good at media games, that's one thing, but is only a symptom not a cause.

We do not value ourselves high enough. That allows worms like a commentor on the Ynet article to say that "One Israeli is worth 1000 of their prisoners; in the end, it is a bargain for Israel".

The kick is -- the son of a bitch may be right.

b) My thoughts and condoleances go to the families of the 1300 Lebanese murdered in the Summer 2006 War, killed to assuage the Israeli bloodlust following the capture of the two soldiers*. I find incredible that they're not mentioned these days.

To all those who lost their lives, who lost a loved one in this war, who lost their homes.

May everyone involved in this gruesome affair find peace of mind.

(*The Israeli army, today says (on Ynet) that it believes the "Hezbollah has learned its 2006 lesson". So I don't want anyone to come tell me that the war wasn't in retaliation for the kidnap.)

The photos of Iran's missile tests were photoshopped

Whahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

(The story's at Vertigo's. Enjoy :)

The ICC's prosecution of the Sudanese president: more stupid than just

I’m normally a fan of the International Criminal Court and I am so infuriated at the genocide in Darfur that I’ve been supporting an armed peacekeeping force since forever.

But the ICC’s decision to prosecute Sudanese President Omar Al-Bashir at this particular timing is just very, very dumb. The ICC’s prosecutor, an overzealous Argentinean who still thinks he’s dealing with gangs in the suburbs of Buenos Aires, has probably made things worse.

First, because while there’s very little chance there’ll any arrest made in this case - it’ll be several months until an arrest warrant is issued by the ICC judges panel (if ever) and I doubt Bashir will happily hop on the first flight to the Hague to see what those nice ICC people want to tell him - this is bound to make Khartoum very, very nervous. And nervous people with guns don’t take intelligent decisions. Appeasing will make them seem like they’re afraid - which they very well might be but won’t admit.

The Darfur rebels and various armed groups, however, are surely going to be emboldened, which will in no possible way get them to compromise. This prosecution will make them feel vindicated and they will increase their attacks on the Government forces and, more importantly, Arab villages. And that’s not very conducive to peace either.

Third, with the North-South peace treaty (the CPA, Comprehensive Peace Agreement) at its most fragile, this will embolden the Southerners and the clique of terrorists at its top to seek further concessions from the Government, after which they will surely seek independence with even worse agreement terms then those in the CPA - with the support of several western countries who will push the boot further on Khartoum’s neck with the distant carrot that the prosecution will be.. alleviated - which will be incredibly damaging for the Sudan, severing the Sudanese from their main sources and income and pushing them further into poverty.
And maybe even making the Government angrier - and more violent in Darfur.


For the ICC to hide behind its mandate of being ‘non-political’ and for the prosecutor to claim that he’s only interested in Justice, not Diplomacy - is complete, complete bullshit. That’s just playing dumb.

I do believe that the Government of Khartoum has blood on its hands. But that decision, which I believe to be mainly motivated by pro-southern Sudan powers, will undoubtedly lead to a worsening of the situation in the country.

Bravo.



Mini-update: the UN is withdrawing all non-essential staff from Darfur because they fear for their safety after the decision to prosecute. Yes, this decision is surely helping the Darfuris.

My television loves me

Channel 18 gave me an episode of “How I met your mother”, immediately followed by an episode of Scrubs.
The Universe loves me. And so does my television.

Trip back, Jeddah to Ramallah

In a normal world, you’d be taking a flight to the nearest airport to your house, then a taxi or bus ride to your house - an hour or a little more.

Not in this part of the world, apparently. This is what my trip was like:

Flight from Jeddah to Amman - 1 hour 40 min
Passport control and customs in Amman, getting my luggage - 20 minutes
Taxi ride to the border crossing point (King Hussein (Allenby) Bridge) - 50 minutes
Clearing Israeli passport control and customs at the Palestinian border - 4 hours. FOUR fucking hours.
Bus ride to Jerusalem - 30 minutes
Then, bus ride to Ramallah - 40 minutes

Getting home, dropping your luggage, and eating half a pint of ice-cream - Priceless!! :)

Getting in and out of the Israeli passport control, which included multiple security checks, a search of my luggage - including browsing through my books, and customs also checking my handback - took as long as the rest of the trip.

And because it’s Saturday, and on Fridays and Saturdays the Israeli border control chicks need their beauty sleep, they open the border for 2 and a half or 3 hours (from 8:00 to 10:30 or 11:00). They announce the border is open until 14:00: bullshit.

And when you think that the Palestinians standing around me had to queue for 5 or 6 hours, starting at 5 am, to make sure they were within the quota of the day (YES - the Israeli army imposes a quota on the number of people allowed to go home) you realise that, despite it all, I still got it easy.

I don’t know what infuriates me the most.

On hypocrisy

Is it morally condemnable to request forgiveness for a mistake or a sin that you’re planning on doing again?

People around me on the way to the plane in Jeddah

There’s the Frenchie - there’s always a Frenchie - most probably a junior consultant of sorts, wearing a buttoned up polo shirt and the tasteless sports sunglasses he got for Christmas;

there’s the Indonesian family of pilgrims, going from junior playing motoracing on his PSP, big brother in the football jersey, to executive dad barking order in a mix of Indonesian and English into his roaming phone, to old old grandpa, who is enjoying every second of this trip that he had waited his whole life for, and smiling warmly to everyone around as if they had all come for his very own going-away party.

There’s the fat Englishman, sitting in business class with a novel from Borders with a round sticker that says “3 for £18!” and which he will never read because he will fall asleep with his head back and his mouth open. The kind of guy making his money from being in the country that he will openly diss and insult whenever he gets the chance. The ‘Syriana’ type of guy, you know?

There’s the elderly gentleman, 70 years old or so, all white hair and light beard, wearing a suit and a tie because he believes that travel is an activity you dress up for, and is accompanied by his wife. Syrian, I would say. The man who stands up, at his age, offering his seat to women of all ages on the bus - because, naturally, this is what a gentleman does.

There’s a Somali woman with her beautiful 6-month old and a large backpack, her baby tied to her chest with a printed cloth, and who will candidly ask the person standing next to hold the baby while she gets something out of the backpack.

There are the three Saudi guys leaving on holidays, already in their shorts and ugly fake denim t-shirts -- joking out loud, both annoying and amusing the people around them.

And there's the annoying chap who's trying to take a photo of them so he can blog about them the next day. :)

Saudi Arabia's legalised racism

A foreign female university professor - let’s call her Hala - teaches in Saudi Arabia. Her elderly parents come to visit - they go for a pilgrimage in the holy sites, then stay a few weeks at their daughter’s.

As Hala goes to the visa office to request a 2-week extension for her mother, the officer in charge tells her it’s okay and she needn’t worry about it, her mother can stay these extra two weeks, no trouble at all.

As the mother goes to the airport, two weeks past her visa - well, it’s not okay. They let the old woman through but confiscate her daughter’s passport (which is illegal, since she technically commited no crime, but since when did that matter in this country?)
The Saudi visa officer denies any involvement and refuses to even talk to Hala, who is consequently sentenced to a 10,000 SAR (3000 USD) fine and deportation. Deportation. No legal grounds are provided for this decision - there wasn't even a trial or anything. Just arbitrary. The officer in charge was probably upset of her being a single working female -- too much for his narrow intellect to fathom.

Only, she’s a good professor, and her university intervenes - not because they care for her, but because they need to keep her.

So, after 18 months - during which her passport remained confiscated and she had to stay in the country - the deportation sentence is lifted; the fine remains.

Poor Hala, unwilling to spend another summer vacation locked inside the country, decides to stop challenging the sentence and pay her unjust fine. The Saudi legal system is so biased against foreigners that fighting it can only lead to a worsening of one’s case.

And this was Hala vs. the State: had it been Hala vs. citizen alpha, she’d probably be in jail on a bogus charge or something.


This is what Saudi Arabia is all about: extorting foreign labour, sucking them dry, then pissing over them.

And she will be remembered: Veronica Guerin

“Everyone in the Republic of Ireland remembers where they were when they heard that Veronica Guerin had been murdered.”

I’ll admit to something here: when I heard that sentence, I was... envious.
I am not sure, however, if the tears in my eyes were tears of jealousy or of respect.


The quote above was the closing line of a film about the final few years of Veronica Guerin, a fearless Irish journalist who was murdered in 1996 by the Irish drug traders because of her reporting which has led to multiple arrests and trials that have lasted until this year.
Her work has gotten her attacked several times - including being shot in the hip - and has led to constant threats on her person and her family.
Her life was the topic of a two films, including the one quoted above, and a biography.

Just google her. Trust me. You will wonder how you never heard of such a brilliant character who is, unfortunately, just of many journalists who are paying their lives as a price for their dedication and courage.

We all die eventually - the question is whether we’ll be remembered. And remembered for something we have done, rather that something that has happened to us.

Welcome to Saudi Arabia!

I can't think of a better way of describing an arrival to Saudi Arabia.

This is an - unfortunately very unclear (it's very hard to snap photos of people around here...) - photograph of a young Lebanese woman arriving to Saudi Arabia.

We're on the bus taking us from the plane to the airport building.

A few minutes before we landed, she donned her black abaya - this long black robe which serves the very strange role of a State uniform for women in Saudi Arabia - above her casual, Beiruti clothes.

The bag she holds is from Hard Rock Cafe Beirut -- the last visible sign of the world outside of Saudi that will be visible on her person... A reminder of a world of normalcy in this boring, redundant country.

Welcome to Saudi Arabia!

When marketing hits rock bottom!

When a company finds nothing to advertise for their trousers but the shape of their pockets...

You know they're in deep shit :)

Seen at Marks and Spencer's, Jeddah.

Nick Kristof in Hebron

Nick Kristof in Hebron. It's gotta be interesting.

Despite Israel's 'good' vs. 'bad' side being the focus of the article and the Palestinians being the unwilling extras, the candid description of what goes on the ground is extremely unusual for US mainstream press. Read on.

(HT: Billie's "My time in Palestine")

On former foes, current friends

I just read that Nelson Mandela has been removed from the US terrorists list, after having been listed there at the request of the South African apartheid regime.

A US senator said the new legislation was a step towards removing the "shame of dishonoring this great leader."

Ha.
Our enemies of yesterday are today's 'great leaders'. Yesterday's terrorists are 'men of peace', those once 'dangerous threats' are now our 'brothers'.

I'm not sure whether I should be amazed, or repulsed.
Then I remember a lesson I was taught years ago: "Alliances are not permanents. Only your interests are".

Which makes it all the more important not to permanently burn bridges or lead animosity to become irreversible.

UN investigates Palestinian Human Rights while sittling in Jordan

The "UN Special Committee to Investigate Israeli Practices Affecting the Human Rights of the Palestinian People and Other Arabs of the Occupied Territories" (hmmm.. the UNSCIIPAHRPPOAOT?) is trying to gather information on the situation in the Occupied Territories, in light of recent reports - particularly in Gaza, concerning the Palestinian economy, the impact of the separation wall on the human rights of Palestinians, and the condition of the Palestinians detained in Israeli prisons and detention centers.
Good.

Only the way they're doing this... by interviewing second hand sources while they comfortably sit in Amman, Jordan.

I don't know whether it's because they're not allowed by UN regulations to come to the dangerous dangerous locations that are Israel and Palestine, or because the Israelis won't let them in.

In either case - gotta love the UN...

Go, UNSCIIPAHRPPOAOT, go go, go!



(UPDATE: turns out it's because " Since its establishment, the Special Committee has repeatedly been denied cooperation by the Government of Israel or access to the occupied territories."

Israel 101: Umm Al Fahm - أم الفحم - אם אל-פחם‎

48,000 Palestinian Israelis (or Israeli Arabs, choose your semantics), an immense majority of Muslims, most street and shop signs in Arabic - welcome to (one of) the (many) other side(s) of Israel!

The largest Arab city in Israel, established in 1265, Umm Al-Fahm has always been a “thorn in the side" of Israeli nationalists (to quote one of them) who would want nothing better than to kick it deep into the West Bank (or, better, exchange it for a couple of large West Bank settlements and the aquifers they sit on).

Throw in some serious Muslim brotherhood influence, the complete absence of any sort of logical urban planning in the city, the lack of parks and child care services, add a zest of high poverty (30%) and unemployment, and you can see what it’s all about.

While before 2000, Jews would go to Arab towns (as well as to the West Bank) - especially on Saturday for shopping, when most shops are closed in the Jewish areas - the Intifada brought this to a complete halt, and now Jews (or whites...) are a slightly unusual sight.

Now most Israeli Jews would avoid going to the city out of fear (Aaaaah! the Ay-rabs!). Some others would drive a few hundred metres up the main road to reach the first Knafeh shop - a sugary reward for their bravery.

There have serious demonstrations and rioting around there - including in October 2000, when 13 Arab Israelis were killed by security forces - and I have personally heard the story of the husband of a friend, a news photographer, who got roughed up and his camera taken away by an angry mob (that was in 1987 but still... and yes, he got his camera back. They took the film though).

I went this weekend to attend a photo exhibition at the Umm Al-Fahm gallery (yes, there is one) - with some Israeli friends, it is worth mentioning - titled “The Photographic History of Wadi Ara, 1903-2008”, about the region and its origins.

Despite the messy exhibition - too many photos for such a limited space, and the absence of a chronological succession of the exhibits - you can see that the city has been through a long history, both unique and very representative of a microcosm of the lives of Palestinian Israelis: from a quiet sleepy village, to resisting the Zionist occupation, to submitting to the force of arms, to the civil fight for equal rights within the State of Israel.

Yet another struggle is far from being over: the identity one. How can you be a proud citizen of your country when you know that your father had to forcibly submit to a foreigner’s authority over his land? When images like that one...

(the village chief submitting to the Israeli army authority, 1949)

... constantly remind you of a past that once was, and you’re somewhat torn between respecting the living memory of your family and your people on one hand - and putting history behind and become simply a young man in the country whose passport you hold and language you have learned to speak since you were a child.

Add to it that the fight for equal rights within the State is far from being over. A simple example: Umm al-Fahm doesn’t have a single bomb shelter, despite bombs landing very close to it (most recently during the 2006 Lebanon war). The government has barely paid any attention to the needs of the citizens, and some local NGOs and citizens - Arabs and Jews, as a matter of fact - have tried to fill the gap.

It is true that Palestinian Israelis have it overall far better - in economic and social terms - than those in the occupied territories. But holding an Israeli passport brings another set of worries.

This banner says "Opening Soon" - in Arabic -- followed by the name of the store in Hebrew (Amina Centre). I find this linguistic dichotomy very representative of the lives of Palestinian Israelis, divided between two worlds...

6 Divorces over a soap opera - and counting!

Six couples across the Arab world have reportedly divorced because of a Turkish soap opera, currently playing across the region - under the name 'Noor' and dubbed in Lebanese, bekhatrak - on prime time on a popular Arab television satellite network (MBC 4).
(automatic translation of source article here).

It goes like this: the lead actor - Turkish model Kıvanç Tatlıtuğ (Muhannad in the series) is hot; his female fans are melting for his on-screen romanticism (especially that the woman playing is wife is barely palatable...); and the comparison is, of course, never in favour of their real-life fat, balding and stinky husbands, who end up feeling like idiots when the comparison is made. Misplaced jealousy and petty people end up divorced..

My favourite one is the woman who replaced her husband's photo on the dresser with that of Tatlıtuğ.. Yeah, her husband divorced her but the sex fantasy must have been oh so worth it :-P

Some people are incredible. I think they should impose a pre-marital IQ test to weed out the complete idiots and the television-insecure..

(HT: Elder of Zion)