HalfSours

So Harvard chose to allot separate time for women to work out at one of their gyms. Then all the little co-eds with no other cares in the world started going ape-shit. It turns out that the Ivy-class is only tolerant of the religious and cultural sensibilities of others when they aren’t inconveniencing them. So one of the campus gyms is closing its doors to men, and allowing modest (mostly Muslim) women to work out sans their presence. People are trying to make this out to be another Plessy vs. Ferguson. Big woop. I have faith that the spry Harvard Renaissance man can hoof it to another campus gym during the six hours per week that particular one is closed to them. And don’t ever let me hear a peep out of Harvard when it comes to Israel and the Palestinians. Those people can’t even share a gym facility with Muslims. We share a country.

Read this if you can stand to:
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Several months ago, around the time of Mahmoud Achmedinejad’s sensational visit, David Kelsey posed a few questions to him on his blog. David might not have taken into account that Prez Achmedinejad is very busy braiding nooses, and coaching Iran’s olympic flogging team. He is far too busy to answer every question posed by every Jew with a blog. Being somewhat versed in Persian life and cultural milieu, I figured that I should do my part to save the president his valueble time. The question that I have chosen to address is this one:

3) I find Persian women very attractive, but have heard they are often hairy. Is this true, or is it a Moroccan slander?

We Persian women are, if I do say so, very beautiful. And, like those domestic felines that carry our national namesake, we are the hairiest little powder-puffs this side of Tehran. Lest David think that I am just a master of pun, he should ask himself; just why do all these reputedly beautiful women hide behind those ensconcing burkas (chador in Farsi)? They cover themselves so the dark men-folk over there don’t get driven mad with wild desire for those hott, shapely bods. And to conceal some wicked Middle Eastern stubble.

That shouldn’t deter Kelsey from dating an American-Persian. Most of us deal with our hair with ingenuity; we outsource.

We, as a community, have had an implemented a practice since the days of Queen Esther. Backed with all the resources of King Achasveroush’s kingdom, emissaries scoured the Korean countryside. His men traversed perilous mountain peak after mountain peak. Their mission, and that of their successors, has been to find the most aggressive Korean woman of that generation. The Midrash excludes this little piece of our history, but indigenous Asian folkloric record supports my recounting.

Generations of such women have been plucked from their villages. They were never permitted to marry. Like nuns they are completely wed to their spiritual calling; purging us Persian JAPS of the unsightly. Their story has never been shared in any means other than whispers East or West of those Asian mountaintops. They are never seen outside of their meager accommodations in the backrooms of waxing salons in Great Neck and LA. Thus, fear not David Kelsey. Thanks to the painstaking efforts of these fierce, Yellow, women the result is a product of woman that is Korean tested, Ashkenazi approved!