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posted by admin on: 04/03/10
A nostalgic poem

We all came from Iran , to the land of Uncle Sam .
We went from eating NIMROO, to eating eggs and ham.

Oh my, how times have changed from when we were just boys.
When life was safe and simple, no Barney among our toys.

KALEH PACHEH for breakfast, was not a weird thing.
We idolized Dariush, and listened to Googoosh sing.

We all watched Samad's finger, go into someone's eyes.
We laughed at that so hard, no Lows and all was Highs.

We went to the Noonvaie, picking up Sangak.
Now it's going to Megamarket, and picking from the rack.

We all did open our fists, and played lili lili hozak.
Now our kids play Nintendo, with a little boy named Jack.

Grandma's house was so cute, and doors were open wide.
We crawled into her baghcheh, and found a place to hide.

How she told us stories of Rostam and Zaha'k.
Now we tell our kids stories, about Bugs and Daffy duck.

Sport we loved was soccer, playing the round ball.
Not this funny looking oblong, thing they call football.

We used to enjoy Fardin, and Beyk Imanverdi.
Now it's going to Cineplex, watching Bone Collector, Hasti?

We jumped into a taxi, to go from A to B.
The greatest ride in the whole world, was the drive to Caspian Sea

We drive on super highways, and watch for a radar gun.
We forget we all used to be driving a PEYKA'AN.

Our vacations are spent, somewhere on a beach.
Far from Rasht and Ra'msar, where we smell but can not reach.

Koloocheh eating in shoma'l, we all can still taste.
How we hold onto memories, not let them go to waste.

How we used to be comfy, in that entourage.
Now we fake our way through life, and try to camouflage.

We left that country behind, and came to a new world.
When our King went down, tripping on his sword.

We watched Saddam attack our country in a pop.
We hated them Iraqis, without bleeding a single drop.

We don't know how to let go, or hang on to our past.
We know something for sure though, nothing will ever last.

These people amongst we live, who show that they are kind.
What do they really think of us, in back of their mind?

No one but us knows SOMAGH, and how good is TAHHDIG.
They see us eating burned rice, and think we've flipped our wig.

We chop up cucumbers, and put it in our MAST.
They look at us eating that, and think that we are lost.

These patriotic songs that, they always sing 'em.
Does anybody wonder, what's our national anthem?

Do we belong to here, or do we belong there?
Does anybody knows us, does anybody care?

They ask us about fanatics, they ask us how we feel.
We give 'em our stock answer, they sure can't help us heal.

We all are so much at odds, with where we're living now.
We all can be writing books, on adopting and how.

The Iranian gene that, we carry in our mind.
Has made us all to look for, our very own kind.

So much of what that makes us, it's made from the same mold.
The Iranian in us, that we treasure like gold.

I say "alef, beh, peh, teh, seh..." and you know what I mean.
I ask for seven 'S'es, and you know I mean haft sin.

I say something is not SHOL, and you know it is SEFT.
You tell them something like that, & they look at you left left.

There must be hundred thousand, species on this Rock.
We must be 100th and one, that do on this Earth walk.

Solution to our problems, is one we can not solve.
In this melting pot someday, may all of us dissolve.

So hold on to the 'SHa'hna'meh'and hang on to 'KHaya'm',
And do not let those memories, get buried under time.

We are all from one country, with borders like a cat.
Now that all of us are out, let's not just forget that.

And if anyone ever told you, that Irooni must die.
You sharpen your big finger, and stick it in their eye!
posted by admin on: 03/19/10
Democrats # Republicans

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat in a lake below. She shouted to him,

"Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."

The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, "You're in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above ground elevation of 2,346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.

"She rolled her eyes and said, "You must be an Obama Democrat."

"I am," replied the man. "How did you know?"

"Well," answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is technically correct. But I have no idea what to do with your information, and I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help to me."

The man smiled and responded, "You must be a Republican."

"I am," replied the balloonist. "How did you know?"

"Well," said the man, "you don't know where you are or where you are going. You've risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You're in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but somehow, now it's my fault."

posted by admin on: 02/27/10
پربيننده ترين صفحه

این صفحه یکی از پربازدید ترین صفحات اینترنتی ایرانی ها است که تا به حال کاربر ایرانی ای یافت نشده است که از این صفحه بازدید نکرده باشد

posted by admin on: 02/07/10

من هلاک تو و خاک زیر پاتم، توپولف!

من زمین خورده‌ی جعبه ی سیاتم، توپولف!
کشته‌ی تیپ زدن و قـدّ و بالاتم، توپولف!
مرده‌ی ریپ زدن و ناز و اداتم، توپولف!

قربـون اون نوسانــات صداتم، توپولف!
یه کلوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

من هواپیما ندیدم اینجوری ناز و ملــوس
می‌پری پر می زنی روی هوا عین خروس!
بذار ایرباس واست عشوه بیاد- دراز لوس-
بدگِلا چش ندارن ببیننت، خوشگل روس!
قربون چشات برم، محــو نیگاتم ، توپولف
یه کلوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

مـــا رو می‌بری نقـــاط دیدنی وقت فرود
گاهی وقتا سر کـــــوه و گاهی وقتا ته رود
می فرستن همه تا سه روز به روحمون درود
می خونه مجری سیما واسمون شعر و سرود
چرا ماتم می گیرن ، مبهوت و ماتم توپولف!
یه کلــوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

وقتی عشقت می‌کشه گاهی با کلّه می شینی
به جـــــای باند فرود، توی محلّه می شینی
یا می‌ری تــــوی ده و رو سر گلّه می شینی
زودی مشهور می‌شی، رو جلد مجلّه می شینی
پی گیر عکســــــا و تیتر خبراتم توپولف!
یه کلــوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

می خوام از خدا که یک لحظه نشم از تو جدا
چونکه وقتی باهاتم هی می کنم یـــــاد خدا
بدون نذر و نیـــاز بــــــا تو پریدن ، ابدا!
می کنم بعد فرود تمــــوم نذرامـــــو ادا
واســه جنّت بلیتت گشتــــه براتم، توپولف!
یه کلـــوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

تو که هی رفیقــــای ایرونیتو یاد می کنی
کی میگه تــــو انبارای روسیه باد می کنی؟
ما رو پیک نیک می بری، سقوط آزاد می کنی
خدا شــــادت بکنه ، روحمونو شاد میکنی
بری تا اون سر اون دونیا(!) باهاتم، توپولف!
یه کلــوم ختم کلــوم بنده فداتم، توپولف!

posted by admin on: 01/20/10

It's a slow day in a little East Texas town The sun is beating down, and the streets are deserted. Times are tough, everybody is in debt, and everybody lives on credit.....

On this particular day a rich tourist from back east is driving through town. He stops at the motel and lays a $100 bill on the desk saying he wants to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one to spend the night.

As soon as the man walks upstairs, the owner grabs the bill and runs next door to pay his debt to the butcher.

The butcher takes the $100 and runs down the street to retire his debt to the pig farmer.

The pig farmer takes the $100 and heads off to pay his bill at the supplier of feed and fuel.

The guy at the Farmer's Co-op takes the $100 and runs to pay his debt to the local prostitute, who has also been facing hard times and has had to offer her "services" on credit.

The hooker rushes to the hotel and pays off her room bill with the hotel owner.

The hotel proprietor then places the $100 back on the counter so the rich traveler will not suspect anything..

At that moment the traveler comes down the stairs, picks up the $100 bill, states that the rooms are not satisfactory, pockets the money, and leaves town.

No one produced anything. No one earned anything.

However, the whole town is now out of debt and now looks

to the future with a lot more optimism.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the United States

Government is conducting business today.

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