welcome to the hotel california
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I'll Make The Video Jan 7th 2009. (today)I'll Make The Video Jan 7th 2009. (today)
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در ده کالو نزدیک به بندر دیر، در استان بوشهر مدرسهای هست با ۴ دانشآموز که در سطح جهانی نام و آوازهای یافته و از این سر تا آن سر دنیا دارای مراوادت و ارتباطهایی است
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A lot of us (and by that I don't just mean Iranians) need someone to hate. I am not sure how we came to this point
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NOSTALGIA
Abadan, Masjed Soleiman swimming and water polo teams, 1960s
by
Raymond Minassian >>>
Why do we have so many bald men?
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اى خانه ى دلدار كه از بيم بدانديش
روى از تو همى تافته و دل بتو دارم
رو تافتنم را منگر زانكه به هر حال
جان بهر تو مى بازم و منزل بتو دارم
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VIEW
Incredible racism of (some) Iranians
Iranians can be extremely racist. I was first made aware that Iranians were perceived, by others in the region, as arrogant racists by a Pakistani professor of Islamic literature at Boston University. Professor Rahbar taught in the Religion department and most Iranians took his literature course for an easy grade. He also conducted the Farsi exams which, if passed, made the University wave the second-language requirement for Iranian students. The poor man, who was well-versed in Persian poetry and loved Saadi and Hafez, was routinely ridiculed by his Iranian students. This was mostly because of his Pakistani accent. Although his eccentric habit of cooking curry in his office, in the Theology building on Mass. Ave., did not help either.
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STORY
Going to the gym is serious business
At the office Christmas party, my boss told me about a new gym that recently opened in the area. On the way back home one day I drove past the plaza and looked up to see a big neon sign announcing the arrival of ‘Pulse’ to my neighborhood. I fell in love with the name. So I punched a reminder in my Blackberry to take my personal pulse to the one down the road sometime soon. We had been out the night before and hadn’t got home till late – the last of the holiday parties eke out every ounce of joy and goodwill. So when the alarm goes off at 7 a.m. on the first Sunday of January, I am none too thrilled to remember my New Year resolution. His leg plops over mine – his code for “how about a little”.
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