Cheated Death...Again!

I feel like the first black president. Not so much as, I have power or influence, but because I've survived numerous assasination attempts. The latest one being last weekend in London.

I was crossing the street at an intersection, and a very unattentive driver barrelled through the crosswalk and came within 3 or 4 feet of running me over. I mean, your favorite blogger friend would have been done. I'd have been laying on the street, flat as day old beer. The guy realized what he almost did to me, and slowed down to gesture that he was sorry. I yelled a few obscenities at him, and thought about throwing my soda at his car. I decided against that, because I was still thirsty after having broken my last fast, and his car was already dirty so some Pepsi on the side would probably just add accent to the rest of the filth.

That was just the latest one. I've survived more attempts on my life than Tupac, 50 Cent and Jack Bauer. Let me run down the list of Feisal's death-defying moments, just so you can see how resourceful I am.

Survived a car wreck where some fool ran a red light and sped across three lanes of traffic, hitting my poor car right on the driver's side. Was pretty much injury free, because I'm hard as steel. *I went home and drank a quart of gasoline and spit out hot fire in celebration.

Talked my way out of a robbery attempt involving two teenagers with a shotgun. Kept all my stuff and received no bullet holes, but left wondering about what God put me here for. *Then I called up the homies and we rode on them b#tch-made trick ass fools.

Was in a car with foks from my university class when the back tire blew out on the highway. We spun across all 5 lanes of traffic before somehow making it to the shoulder lane. I could see oncoming cars heading near as we spun around in what seemed to be slow-motion. *The cars stopped, when I stood up in the sunroof and whipped out my soul pole. The shadow it cast blocked the sunlight, so everyone slowed down to a halt to witness what they thought was a solar eclipe or the coming of the apocalypse.

Got jumped by four guys over some girl who tried to make her boyfriend jealous by sleeping with me. Left with a black eye, but broke the biggest one's nose and held my own against the rest. *Even ripped a man's heart out, and performed emergency surgery on him to put it back while fighing off the others...WITH MY PINKY FINGER! Only reason I gave him his heart back was because I didn't want to catch a murder charge.

Was chased on a regular basis back in nairobi by a german shepherd dog named Simba and never once got bitten.

I told y'all. I'm harder than your favorite rapper or Morriyan!!!. All this talk has got me thinking, though. God really has led me through all this for a reason. That said, I'm making the most of this blessing called life, and soliciting on the blog again.

Note: All of the above incidents are true. The sentences after the point where astericks have been placed are made up though...I'm hard, but not that hard...Sheeeeeit.!!!!!!

Legacy

It's been said that certain individuals that have had near-death experiences see their entire lives flash before their eyes.

Well, I've experienced two near-death experiences, and that didn't happen to me at all. The first time, it felt like things were happening in slow motion, and I didn't even have time to react. All I could do was think to myself "I'm really about to die here. This is it." Once I got out of that predicament safely, me and the folks that I was with made sure everyone was ok, then gave salaatul shukran to allah and said thanx!!.

The second time was this past weekend. This time, I was able to think and get out of this particular situation, but afterwards, it left lingering thoughts in my head.

The first one was, would I be willing to kill someone who wanted to harm me in order to save myself...to which I found out the answer is a resounding YES. Don't worry, I didn't kill anybody, though. If I had, I damn sure wouldn't be confessing that shit on the damn internet LOL. Circumstances told me that my philosophy would be "better him than me" as opposed to "turn the other cheek."

The second, and most lingering question is one that I want to ask you all: If you were to die tomorrow, what would your legacy be? I don't feel that I've accomplished nearly as much with my life as I thought I would have up to this point, so I think some folks could consider me a failure. I mean, I'm educated, I have family and friends who love me, I'm very creative, I'm handsome, and I have a big Abdalla(had to throw those last two in there...LOL). Yet, my goals are to create something that outlives me(like a masterpiece in art, or film,even literature or be a pioneer in something), and to make enough money to live lavish if I so choose. I probably wouldn't be extravagant, since I'm pretty easily pleased by the simple things in life, but I just want to know that I can. I am nowhere near accomplishing these two ultimate career goals. So if I had died this weekend, that means all of my potential and talent would have been wasted.

I think Allah brought me through this for a reason. Obviously, I'm not doing something right. From this point on, I am dedicating myself to accomplishing these things, at all costs. Tomorrow is NOT promised, so I need to make the most out of each day that I am given.

I know this post today is a bit of a departure from my usual jokes and stuff, but I just had that on my heart and felt the need to write about it. I am 100% fine, so there is no need to worry about me. It's just that recent events have causes this topic to be on my mind all day today.

i'm so busy today would have told ya what happened but will keep that 4 the next post the past 2 weeks have so busy at hospital but at last i'm gettin 4 day off startin from tomorrow so plenty of writing expected!

Tribute To Osman!!

The City of london will be losing one of is't most respected an esteemed citizens very soon. My friend moving is moving back to columbus. So in honor of this, I feel I should say a little something about this brother.

Actually, let me tell you a story that symbolizes the greatness of that man...

*Myself, Osman and Shish were coming from the Asian Carryout with the distinctly American name...Danny's if memory serves me correct. So I buy some General Tso's chicken, Shish buys a single Benson and Hedges cigarette and lighter with a glow in the dark weed leaf emblazoned on the front. Osman, himself having bought a bean pie and a Final Call newspaper from the brother with the 3 piece suit standing on the corner in the middle of July, didn't buy anything. So when we get to the door, osman says, "Man, I can't believe y'all eat this shit. You know that stuff is bad for you

Unfortunately, one of the people behind the bulletproof glass window heard him bad mouthing their business establishment. So the chef and about 15 of his cousins and nephews come out to the front and say "Don't you bad mouth us...I cut you son of bitches"

So osman, being the street smart cat that he is, quietly says, "Brothers, this is no time for words, only action will get us out of this one. WE GOT TO BE KUNG FU NIGGAS!"

Me on some black MacGuyver shit again, saw and old man with a cane and some orthopedic shoes on trying to watch everything in the corner. I tell Shish to cause a quick diversion, which he does by doing the Harlem Shake on a tabletop. I go up to the old man and say "Run your shit, nigga! Gimme that damn cane and those orthopedic shoes!"

I then proceed to tie the shoelaces together and throw them to Osman, which he starts twirling like some nigga nun-chucks. Then I throw the cane to Shish, who is quite upset that someone tore his "Kool" cigarette T-shirt. Do you know how many proofs-of-purchase he had to mail in and how many cigarettes he had to smoke to get that shirt? Let's just say that he was pretty damn angry. I didn't have any more weapons at my disposal, so I just started slap-boxing motherfuckers with no remorse. I think I accidentally slapped Osman one time during the chaos, but he forgave me because that's the kind of brother he is.

So once the Carryout was ours, osman decided to throw a neighborhood cookout with all of the food inside. We even forgave the chef and his family and let them eat some of the cheeseburgers we took out of their freezer.

Without osman, our fearless leader, The Battle At Danny's Carryout may have been a catastrophic disaster.

So, I bid farewell to an icon of style who was even one those people who convinced me to come this side of the planet!

a man who will call you a bastard to your face if you don't agree with him

a man who battles racism at every stop in the road. And calls out black leaders on their bullshit, too.

a man strong enough to drink diet soda and not be affected by the nasty aftertaste

a man who knows cigars better than a Cuban tobacco farmer named JuanCarlos!!!

the man who coined the phrase "Magical Negroes" describing coonery in popular entertainment.

a modern-day Al Bundy, but with a better job

And a role model to the children.

OSMAN.......I salute you!!




*Note...although inspired by something that happened to me at the carryout, some aspects of that story are just a little exaggerated. Others, however, are pure bullshit and never happened. Just so you know ;)........farewell osman i know u'll read this!

Declaration of Independence at work

The subject on my mind today is, how to communicate my extreme independence to the Powers That Hire New Faculty....... realized this week from talking with other friends about their labs, just how umbilical cord-free I've been, and for sooooooooo much longer than most of my peers.

I realized this is one of the key things that really sets me apart from most radiologist(except that junior doc labelling), and that it's also the most likely thing that no one knows about me. I realized that I previously had no idea what most people assume is typical for a radiologist of my age. (I still really think the ageist bullshit is hurting me).

Now that I have some idea, I gotta say. No wonder they didn't want to hire me. They really had no idea what they were missing out on. How could they?

One friend widens her eyes when I vent about what I think of as the usual stuff. It's irritating, because I frequently feel like I'm the only person who wants all the equipment in lab to work. I go out of my way to find manuals, call companies, get repairs done, etc. I'd like to think the reason I do this is because I appear to be the only person who cares that I need to use it. I never thought of this sort of venting as anything close to shocking, until she told me that the look of horror on her face was because this is the first she's heard of anything like it.Wallahi i know if i dont do my analyses with uttermost care it means someone might loose their life yet they say i'm obssesive.

Another friend said something I've heard now and then from the rare, truly empathic souls, and it goes like this:

"God, just imagine how much you could get done if you'd had access to all the resources and help I've had all this time, while I totally took it for granted. Squandered it, even."

Well, yeah. I choose to take it as a compliment, though I'm sure he didn't squander it at all, since this particular friend seems to have his shit together. (Figures that he wants to go to industry).

So, assuming that I've finally homed in on an important missing variable in the application equation, and on the off chance that I take time out to do any musculoskeletal applications this year, what's the best way to make sure people know about it?

I'm pretty confident that all my recommenders used the word 'Independent' in their letters for me in the past, which evidently didn't really get the message across. Is there another word or phrase that would carry more weight? Dashboard Thesaurus suggests "self-reliant" and "self-sufficient", which both sound pretty good to me.

Would a better turn of phrase help?

As I think I've mentioned here before, someone told me that my letters were probably missing the "catch phrases" that apparently only PIs "in the know" would... know about. This person said they basically have to make it sound like you can walk on water. I'm pretty sure my recommenders would have said that, and in so many words, if they had known that was what it would take. But they're none of them very experienced at placing computed Tomography (CT) or arthrography , at least not in the US. So having a list of Required Wording to give each of them might help.

I'm sure having more funding would help, but it's a catch-22, because radiologist aren't allowed to apply for money without letters from their "advisors"... I can't tell you how much this catch infuriates me, because it means I have to hunt down my advisor, and several levels of admins, consultants, and business officers, to get signatures, etc. Which is really stupid when it's just at the stage of submitting something, but they don't let you send it in without getting permission first.....how about it was life and death matter?....i still don't think so the NHS system is so strict with its bureuacratic bullshit that by the time a patient get's know what's happenning the tumour or whatever it is has already developed more.......this makes me helpless!!

It's so bad, that recently I had to apply for some safety clearance for my own patients, as you're required to do periodically. Because the diagnosis is technically said to be from my advisor, my name is not listed anywhere on it! But I did all the paperwork,all the scan's, made all the phone calls, with NO ADVICE WHATSOEVER FROM MY ADVISOR... as usual.

So tell me again, if I have such little chance of getting to prioritise impotant(most vulnerable) patient's in the first place, why make me jump through hours of shitty hospital hoops just to be allowed to see patient's as soon as possible....DAMN WHITECHAPEL n NHS!!!

Argh. Just thinking about these ridiculous restrictions don't know what i can do or just do as they say in swahili "fuata upepo"(follow the winds direction)!!!

Homeless Man nearly Stole My Date!!!

Recently, thanks to Myspace, I caught up to a very cool and very attractive lady that I went out with a few years ago back in columbus. She found me on there thanks to my sister's crazy conections. I'm glad to know that she's doing well, and still Lord Have Mercy fine as all get out of town....But it showed me of what may have been one of the most humbling experiences of my adult life: Having a homeless man almost steal my date from me.

Miss Hanisa and I were in edgeware road, leaving one of the lebanese restaurants after breaking fast.After having done maghrib prayers, We talked, we laughed, and everything seemed to be going great. Then we went outside, and it happened.

We leave the restaurant, and this homeless guy is outside the place. He sees Miss hanisa and I walking past, and he starts singing that Rod Stewart song, "Some guys have all the luck" while doing a little shuffle. It was funny, so we both started laughing as he approached.

The Homeless Ladies' Man then said, "I don't mean any disrepect, but I have to tell the young lady that she is very beautiful. She is a walking flower. Lovely. Delicate. Graceful. Her grace is the personification of the marvelous heavens above" or something to that effect. I can't remember exactly what he said, but he actually made it sound smooth as Hell. Much better than the crap I just typed above.

Then the man recited lyrics of romantic poetry, and Miss Hanisa was eating it up. She was just smiling and telling him how beautiful his words were. I tried to play it cool, but inside I was like "NOOOOOOOOOO!!! WHAT THE HELL?!?! I CAN'T COMPETE WITH THIS HOMELESS GUY!!! HE'S TOO SMOOTH!!! HE'S GONNA TAKE MY DATE!!! I CAN'T TELL ANYONE A HOMELESS MAN STOLE MY DATE!!! ESPECIALLY A WOMAN THIS FINE!"

I had to keep it inside, though. I figured the worst thing I could do at this point was to show that I'm actually considering the possibility that my date might slide a homeless dude her number...Or have him write down what alley he was going to be in later that evening to set up some sort of moonlight rendezvous. It was a no-win situation, so I just tried to think of something romantic or smooth to say. It was no use, though. That guy had already stolen my thunder.

So once the homeless man stopped making love to my date's mind, he got down to business and asked for money. He didn't ask like most folks, though. He challenged us to name any country in the world and he'd name the capitol city. Miss hanisa chose Japan and Canada, and The Homeless Ladies' Man named the cities. I figured I'd throw him a curveball and choose a country from The Motherland to try and catch him off-guard.

He asked me to name one more country, and I named "NAMIBIA."

Homeless Ladies Man replied, "Windhoek."

That was when I gave up. I gave dude like 8 or 9 pounds, which is more than I've ever given a homeless man. Partially because he was so entertaining. Mainly so he'd go away and leave my date alone. Either way, he left a more lasting impression on her than I did that night. I hope they never actually went out...

i can't believe it that was an eye opener!......or was it some sought of ramification coz i should have been doin taraweeh instead of bein on a date......either way saturday was a crazy day!!

Me vs. The Evil 4 Year Old

I love kids, but I can't stand disrespectful ones. Let me tell you about what happened on sunday, and you'll see exactly what I mean.

I was on oxford street Sunday evening, waiting in line to get a soda from a vendor. There were three little girls in front of me. Two were about middle-school aged, and one was about 4 years old. The oldest one was ordering some food, and intentionally taking a long time in an effort to distract the woman behind the cart. The other middle schooler was poorly attempting to steal a ginger ale and some chips. The little one was leaning on the cooler where the sodas were.

I went over to the cooler and said "excuse me" to the 4 year old in an effort to get her to stop leaning on it so I could get a soda. She initially ignored me, until I began opening it.

Then she got smart with me and said "You didn't even say ex-cuuuuse me!"

I replied "Yes I did!" to which her older sister agreed. Then, it hit me. Why the Hell was I even answering to this 4 year old? I should have threatened to take my belt off and whup all three of those bad ass little girls.

Before I could let my anger manifest itself, the girl stealing the soda and chips got caught by the lady working at the snack cart. So as she returns the stuff and denies that she stole it despite the fact that she was empty-handed when she go there, the little one decides to test me again. By this time, their foolishness had gotten annoying and I had my leg up against the cooler. The 4 year old walks over and yells "EXCUUUUSE ME!" and tries to get in the cooler.

I took a step back, but when she started opening the cooler, I put my leg against it again to make her have to struggle to lift it up. I figured this was the only legal and nonviolent way to let her know that I'm physically and mentally superior to her. Trust me, I really wanted to just be like "Go to Hell. You little bastard! I'll knock you out, then dare you to go tell your daddy. I'll knock his punk ass out too...if you even know who your real daddy is. Oh yeah...SANTA CLAUS AIN'T REAL, BITCH!"

I kept it to myself though, since she was a little kid. I kind of felt bad for those girls, since it's obvious that someone has failed them as a parent. Still, I know that one day that little girl is going to catch a serious ass whupping thanks to her mouth. I figure, the younger she learns that lesson, the easier it'll be on her in the long run. So I salute whoever is the first kindergardener to beat the brakes off that child at recess. I'll personally stop by the school and buy him or her an extra chocolate milk at lunch.

so basically all i'm saying is some should teach this young kidz!......otherwise u never know.......i hope i didn't rant much controllin myself coz of ramadhan.

Hollering in The Gym

I checked out the Gym over where I live yesterday, and I must say, it is a pretty nice gym. It has most of the stuff that I like aboutmy gym, plus a football sala and it's closer. The only thing that's keeping me from switching is the fact that I've been with the other one so long that I only pay 25 pounds a month now. It doesn't make sense for me to pay 45 pounds a month again, football sala or no football sala!

The funny thing is, the women in there are something else. A lot of these women were made-up, walking on the treadmill posing for the dudes in there lifting. It was funny, because some of them reeked of desperation. I don't see why they'd choose the gym as their place to meet new dudes...Then again, I guess since folks are half naked in there, it makes some sense.

I never was big on macking women in the gym. I guess this is because when I'm in there I end up getting sweatty, and having veins bulging out of all kinds of places and shit like that. I don't think I look too flattering on workout days LOL

I did try once, though. There was this lady named Shanice who used to work out at the same time I did on most of the same days. I would catch her looking in my direction sometimes, so I figured she must kinda like me or something...Normally, me being sweatty and tired from my workout would have stopped me, but this woman was FINE. She looks kinda like Tiara from http://www.tiaraxclusive.com, and I have a big-time crush on that Tiara chick.

So I went up to her and opened up conversation, cracked a few jokes, etc., etc...so when it came time to get the number, she told me "Well, I kinda live with my boyfriend."

I was thinking to myself "WHYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! DAMMIT!"

I just kinda eased my way out of the conversation and told her it was nice meeting her...Then proceeded to swear off ever hollering at anyone in the gym again. That was the first time I'd been shot down in months. I didn't know how to take it. Part of me wanted to go holler at someone else just to see if it was a fluke, and part of me came up with an elaborate get-back scheme...Which was to not wear any draws, spot her on the weight bench one day when she's lifting, and then teabag the shit outta her...LOL. I decided that she didn't do anything to me that warranted me putting my sweatty ballsack in her face, but I did hold fast to my vow to never holler at anyone in the gym again, regardless of how fine they are.* If I ever get a gym number again, that means the woman came up to me and volunteered to give it to me.

*Note - If Tiara happens to read this, she's the exception to this rule...with her fine ass...LOL.