My kitchen cabinet is full of technocrats – DJs, sidekicks, hairdressers, fortune-tellers and Pirs. They’ve given me expert advice. They, combined with my inner voice, have spoken and advised me to marry again. I now feel propelled in the direction of a suitable girl of my sisters’ choice.
Soon, you will see that great combo coming into operation again – an impassioned Get-Nawaz campaign combined with an impassioned Get-Married campaign. Like the last time. We’ll get started on this as soon as I return from London. Which reminds me, sadly I was away when Edhi died, and therefore unable to take part in the hijack of his funeral by the high and mighty. I did however, go running to be photographed by his bedside before he breathed his last. I really did identify with him, I told friends as I dined at Nobu that pricey Park Lane restaurant beloved of A-list celebs, because we both hated the VIP culture.
We had a wonderful meal at Nobu and nobody can accuse me of being racist because I relished the Black Cod.
Moving on, you’ll see that my new dharna is going to be like no other. Leading the charge will be the disgruntled PTI, disgruntled PPP and disgruntled me. The new formula is not going to be Minus One but Plus Three – an oblique reference to my third nuptials.
But why bother, because the end of the world is nigh. Soon, a huge chunk of the Western world is going to be ruled by so-called women – Hillary Clinton, Teresa May and Angela Merkel. These women are champions of that noxious ideology called Feminism, second only in its toxic side-effects to Communism and Fascism. I remember Teresa from Oxford. I entered a poetry competition with her and Benazir. They protested against me when I read out the following poem:
There was a little girl, who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good, she was very, very good.
But when she was bad, she got a fur coat, jewels, a Mayfair flat and a sports car
Im the Dim
Soon, you will see that great combo coming into operation again – an impassioned Get-Nawaz campaign combined with an impassioned Get-Married campaign. Like the last time. We’ll get started on this as soon as I return from London. Which reminds me, sadly I was away when Edhi died, and therefore unable to take part in the hijack of his funeral by the high and mighty. I did however, go running to be photographed by his bedside before he breathed his last. I really did identify with him, I told friends as I dined at Nobu that pricey Park Lane restaurant beloved of A-list celebs, because we both hated the VIP culture.
We had a wonderful meal at Nobu and nobody can accuse me of being racist because I relished the Black Cod.
Moving on, you’ll see that my new dharna is going to be like no other. Leading the charge will be the disgruntled PTI, disgruntled PPP and disgruntled me. The new formula is not going to be Minus One but Plus Three – an oblique reference to my third nuptials.
But why bother, because the end of the world is nigh. Soon, a huge chunk of the Western world is going to be ruled by so-called women – Hillary Clinton, Teresa May and Angela Merkel. These women are champions of that noxious ideology called Feminism, second only in its toxic side-effects to Communism and Fascism. I remember Teresa from Oxford. I entered a poetry competition with her and Benazir. They protested against me when I read out the following poem:
There was a little girl, who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
And when she was good, she was very, very good.
But when she was bad, she got a fur coat, jewels, a Mayfair flat and a sports car
Im the Dim