What up, girl?

Normally, when I write these blog posts, I avoid revealing stuff about my personal life. I feel like talking about myself on a blog is kinda gay and I mostly use my blog to indirectly make fun of other people. However, what I'm about to talk about is something a lot of people go through and I guess I want people to know that they're not alone.

So a little while ago, I was at a friend's birthday dinner and I saw this pretty cute girl. I immediately noticed her because she had that light skin that I'm a sucker for. So after I spent 30 minutes in the restroom, looking at myself in the mirror and telling myself things like, "no girl could resist the Jangster charm," I finally worked up the courage to go up to her. I started off with the standard, "What's your name, what's your sign?" and she immediately laughed at the Notorious B.I.G. reference. This led to a nice lengthy conversation about rap music, society, philosophy, and even religion. It was perfect; here's this girl who has the same views as me: Eminem is the greatest artist ever, Islam is kinda cool, Kobe is better than Lebron, Omar is skinnier than me, and Haseeb is always right. I'm just playing about that last one; we all know that's not true.

Unfortunately, I was unable to obtain "what numbers to dial," but when I got home that night, I did the whole Facebook stalking thing. It took another 30 minutes in the restroom (psyching myself up, you pervs) to muster up the cajones to "poke" her on Facebook. In the interest of time, I'm going to glaze over the next few parts of this story: friend request, Facebook chat, Facebook chat, text, introduce to Haris, Haris-approval, text, phone, date with Haris there, date with Haris there, date without Haris there.

Okay, so flash forward a few weeks: I'm hanging out with this cute girl that knows all the lyrics to "Superman" and "Best I Ever Had", is better than me at Words with Friends, and, most importantly, has Haris-approval. So one day, we're chilling in my Camry outside of her favorite restaurant and scarfing down some bean burritos with beans instead of meat and I'm thinking that this girl is pretty cool. We've been friends for a few weeks, so maybe it's time to take it to the obvious next step. So I'm all, "Yo, you wanna do this thing?" and she's all, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" and I'm all, "Yeah." She took that as a sign to hop on over to my side of the car. That's when things started getting a little weird...

Me: Whoaa, slow your role, girl.
Her: I thought that this is what you wanted?
Me: No, girl, I was talking about you and me walking down the masjid carpet together, I'm a 23-year old college student, I'm not even THINKING about that type of stuff yet.
Her: Come on, Immy Minaj, you know you're down. The average guy thinks about this every eight seconds.
Me: About what? Marriage? I really don't feel comfortable...
Her: ...(mumbles) mission failed...
Me: What'd you say?
Her: ...nothing
Me: WHAT'D YOU SAY?!?
Her: That's it...it's time I tell you the truth...

That's when things went from regular-crazy to Kashif-crazy. Her skin started becoming lighter and lighter until she became transparent. Scales emerged from her skin and her teeth transformed into fangs. "This is who I really am," she snarled in a deep booming voice, "I was sent by the Devil to corrupt you." At this point, I push her off me and I'm like "Come on, man, not again...how come every cute girl I meet turns out to be a Jinn or an agent of Satan or something?!? I even let you meet my Haris!"

So that's when she decides that since I can't be corrupted, I have to be killed. My immediate reaction was to start reciting the anti devil-girl spells that Adil learned from Braelv Tech, but apparently, she was immune. She started her onslaught by opening her mouth and breathing fire on me. I immediately dodged the fireballs and jumped into the backseat. I was saved, but unfortunately, my radar detector was burned to ash. I reached under the passenger seat and pulled out my sword (and no, that's not a euphemism, you pervs). The devil-girl turned around and started scratching at me with her claws, but I was able to deflect them with my sword. She did manage to land one lick on me, but fortunately, she only scratched my trademark mole off. At this point, I did the Bismillah Sword Swipe that I learned from Brother Haleem Ahmed Khan, and chopped off the Armani Exchange purse from which she was drawing her power. She let out this piercing cry that caused dents all around my car and left a crack on my windshield, as she disappeared into a Forever 21 gift card.

Of course I couldn't tell my parents what happened, so I just told them that the car dents were from a few poles I ran into, the windshield was cracked by racist hobos, and that I lost my mole in a car accident.

The reason I wrote this post is because I realized that I'm not the only one that's been through this type of thing. There are a lot of scary things out there: Jinns, demon-girls, Republicans...just make sure to stay on the straight path. Don't let the evils of this world make you fall into stupid things. And remember, you are not alone.