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.

I know I haven't blogged in awhile, but I feel that there is an important issue that I want to draw attention to. It is statically proven that every 90 minutes, a beautiful girl is diagnosed with Getting with a DoucheBag. The causes of GDB include insecurity, alcohol, jealousy of her friends, pressure from her parents to get married, and mental instability. Please take a few minutes out of your day and spread the word. With your help, we can stop GDB altogether.

To all the women out there, especially Pakistani ones, I have a modest request: PLEASE STOP BEING CRAZY. Life isn't meant to be difficult and I've noticed that people make it a lot harder than it has to be.

Men tend to define themselves by how much money they make and women tend to define themselves by how pretty they are. Fortunately, men can make money...all they really have to do is get a decent degree and they'll make enough so that most girls will say yes. But women, unfortunately, can't control how good they look. Makeup can only take you so far. And that makes you constantly compare yourself to other girls, seek validation from the men around you, and worst of all, it makes you lower yourself to something you aren't. Also, it makes you torture the men around you, for example: me.

But I promise you, it's all in your head. Life is what you make it and as long as you are a good person and treat the people around you with respect, you will find someone amazing. There's no need to throw yourselves at every guy that smiles at you or get obsessed with the few nice guys that you meet. Don't settle for anything less than your soul mate. It will all work out, I promise. You WILL find someone and he WILL be amazing. You just have to be patient. There are 3.2 billion men in the world. Do you honestly believe it's impossible to find a decent guy with those odds?

I'm tired of seeing great girls around me settling for the first idiot that comes around just because they have this baseless fear of ending up alone. Stop buying into the "oh if I'm too old" or "I have a past" garbage. There's no expiration date on love and the best relationships in life happen when you aren't looking for them.

So to all my sisters out there, stop selling yourself short. The good guys want more than just a pretty face. Except me. My girl has to be at least a 9.5 and I don't care about her personality and she can't have ever even liked anyone else. But this applies to all the OTHER good guys.

Take care.

So Ramadan XXIII just ended, and as always, it's a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, you know you're going to miss the positive feelings of Ramadan: the brotherhood, the extra blessings, the iftar parties, IHOP sehris at 5 am...but on the other hand, it feels kinda good for things to get back to normal. The most important thing, however, is to never forget the lessons you learn from this holy month. So I've decided to make a list of things I learned this Ramadan.

-stay up all night watching TV, playing games, and hanging out. The later you fall asleep, the later you'll wake up, and the less you'll actually have to fast. Make sure you don't pray at night or do anything stupid like that.

-Find a video game and dedicate all your time to playing it. This will make the fasts seem fast.

-Khatam duas are the perfect time to catch up on some overdue sleep. The lights are off and everyone's focusing on their own sins, so no one will notice if you doze off for 10-15 minutes.

-You're never too old to get Eidi.

-"Staying up all night at the masjid" is the perfect way to stay out all night without your parents badgering you.

-If you're a hafiz, try to find a nice masjid to lead your taraveeh at. That way you can get your name out and get super props. Aunties will be throwing their daughters at you before you can even duck.

-Remember, you're always allowed the first look.

-Donate your yearly Zakat in Ramadan so you can maximize returns.

-Most masjids have free iftars and sehris, so you can eat free food for an entire month, if you're smart and make sure not to frequent the same masjids.

Anyways, I hope this advice helped. See y'all next year. Peace.

I'm sorry to all the infidels that I've offended by being Muslim. I didn't really plan on it; I was born this way. Do you think I'd actually choose to be part of this religion? Do you think it's easy having to stay away from women and Lucky Charms? It sucks, man. I have to deal with all these annoying rules like praying five times a day. Every 5-6 hours I have to take a 5 minute break. It's so irritating. Do you have any idea how unproductive that is? It really cuts into my Starcraft time.

And fasting for a month...it's ridiculous. Have you seen the weather outside? I have to skip lunch every day for 30 days? Forget that. I don't care what it feels like not to have food on the table. I worked hard (well, my parent's did) to get where I'm at it. Being poor is gay, and I'm just not into all that.

Oh, and I really didn't mean to oppress our women in front of you. In Islam, we have this annoying thing where we actually respect our women and honor them for their intelligence and ability, instead of treating them like sex objects and having them walk around half naked for our pleasure. I apologize on behalf of all modestly dressed Muslim women. My bad.

I'm sorry for being this way. I'm sorry to all the infidels that feel insecure when I'm around. I'm sorry that you have to feel a need to justify your pork and alcoholic habits to me. I personally WISH I could dip my bacon into a bud light every morning, but I just don't have that luxury. Anyways, you guys do what you gotta do. Just please don't post your embarrassing pictures of that night you got wasted on Facebook. I get really jealous, no joke. There's nothing more awesome than a picture of you and your best friend wrestling naked because the two of you had a few too many Heinekens.

I promise I'm going to work on myself. I'm going to try and suppress my flaws. I'll keep my terrorist centers out of your way. This whole Ground Zero Mosque is so stupid. I would like to apologize on behalf of my people. It's disrespectful to build one of our terrorist command centers so close to where that horrible tragedy happened nine years ago. Al-Qaeda may consist of religious, fundamentalist, uneducated, desperate, brainwashed, homicidal maniacs, but everyone knows that they truly represent the views of the other 1.57 billion Muslims.

Anyways, I'm sorry, I don't know where I got the idea that I could freely practice my religion or build peaceful places of worship. Thank you for being so patient with my warped beliefs. If other religions had small percentages of crazy fundamentalists, I'd be burning their holy books too.

"Except if you're a dick your whole life, your next shell will be made of crap, okay? If you're an ass, you're gonna come back as a cockroach, or a worm, or an anal bead, okay? If you're a man, and you act heroic, you'll come back as an eagle, you'll come back as a dragon, you'll come back as Jude Law, okay? Which would you rather be?"

-Dale Denton, from Pineapple Express