jamelah.net

Thursday, July 03, 2003

hangin' with the sharif...

i've often wondered what the sharif's problem was... you know, with the casbah rocking and all. i personally believe that when the casbah is doing the rocking there's no need to bother with the knocking, if you get what i mean.

and i know you do.

anyway, i was talking to the sharif the other day, because even though the sharif and i don't see eye to eye on this casbah issue, the sharif and i are cool with each other on some other things and sometimes we get together and party with the creole lady marmalade. it's true.

but i digress.

see, i was hangin' with the sharif, and we were smokin' a couple of black & milds and drinkin' 40s of st. ives genuine malt liquor and i said to the sharif, "hey, the sharif, what's the deal with you and the casbah?"

the sharif took a swallow from his 40 and turned to me, carefully blowing smoke out the side of his mouth, so as not to hit me in the face with it and said, "jamelah honey, do not even get me started on the casbah." he put his plastic-tipped cigar up to his lips and tapped it there for a second before inhaling again. "the casbah. it is truly heinous in the sight of the sharif. with all of its rocking."

"yeah," i said, cracking a fresh 40 of st. ives, "i understand that the sharif don't like it, but why? what has the casbah ever done to the sharif?"

the sharif grew silent and a wee bit pensive. his eyes glossed with tears. "the sharif does not wish to speak of the casbah any longer. would you care to go roller skating, yo?"

well, certainly i was down with roller skating, so we got into the sharif's bentley and headed to the roller rink, because we love the nightlife and we've got to boogie.

anyway, as the night rolled on (pardon the pun), i lost the sharif. i was getting a little worried, because when the sharif drinks too much, he sometimes engages in self-destructive behavior. one time i caught him in a corner with matthew and gunnar nelson, singing "after the rain". so, you see what i mean. i had cause to worry.

i took off my roller skates and started searching for the sharif. i found him, leaning against the concession stand, eating nachos and weeping. "hey the sharif," i said, touching his arm. "what up, yo?"

the sharif blew his nose into a napkin and sniffled. "the casbah... the casbah... the sharif does not like it." he took a sip from his 64 ounce pepsi, then played with the bendy straw a little bit. "with all of the rocking. the sharif never gets to rock the casbah. would you like a nacho?"

i took a nacho and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "now listen to me, the sharif, you could rock the casbah if you wanted to."

"no, no," the sharif said. "the casbah... and the sharif... and the..." his words collapsed under the weight of a fresh bout of weeping. "the sharif needs a moment," he said, putting up a hand.

"sure, the sharif, sure. take your time. i understand this is a painful issue for you."

"no! you do not understand the sharif's pain!" the sharif took a couple of deep breaths. "the casbah with all its noisy rocking keeping the sharif awake all hours of the night." his voice lowered to a whisper. "the sharif needs his sleep. the sharif has things to do. the sharif has meetings. the sharif has work. the sharif does not have time for the rocking and the casbah."

"so you hate the casbah because it's noisy? hasn't the sharif ever thought of moving to somewhere not so close to the casbah?"

the sharif raised an eyebrow. "the sharif cannot move away from the casbah."

"um..."

"and the sharif's wife. the casbah stole the sharif's wife."

"how did the casbah steal the sharif's wife?"

"she said she left her purse in the casbah and she just had to run in and get it. she said she'd be back in a couple of minutes. do you think she came back? noooooo. she was stolen by the casbah. made a slave to the casbah and all its rocking ways."

"sorry, the sharif."

"i cannot leave. what if the sharif's wife comes home and is unable to find the sharif?"

"well, the sharif, when did your wife leave?"

"1982."

"right. can i tell the sharif something?"

the sharif bit into a nacho and grimaced. "the sharif's cheese is cold."

"ok. listen to me, the sharif. you can't blame the casbah for people and their willful ways."

"oh yes the sharif can. the sharif can do whatever the sharif wants to do. this is rule number one of being the sharif."

"right then."

"the sharif would like some hot cocoa. would you like some hot cocoa?"

"sure."

so we went for some hot cocoa. damn the sharif and his shifty subject-changing methods. we never did get the whole casbah issue straightened out, because after we had the hot cocoa, we ended up crashing this pool party, and one of the sharif's most bitter enemies, television's very own tina yothers, got into a fight with the sharif and they were throwing cheese cubes at each other and it was just ugly. the sharif was all wasted, and i had to drive... i ended up letting him crash on my couch, because he kept mumbling about the casbah and the noise and the rocking and how the sharif does not like it and it was just a mess.

to be honest, nights with the sharif always end up like this. i probably shouldn't hang out with him anymore, because he's just very emotionally needy and it's really a drag. then there's the whole casbah issue, and to be honest, i rock the casbah rather frequently, and i won't lie. it's a source of contention. i don't know. the sharif is an old friend, and i don't want to punk out on him or anything, but there's only so much a girl like me can take.

even so, the sharif did promise to get me into a party at scott baio's house......

man, i'm just torn. torn, i tell you. i guess though, if i'm going to live the life of an international a-list party girl, hanging out with the likes of scott baio, tina yothers and richard grieco, there are just some things i'll have to put up with, and the sharif's emotional instability is one of them.

whew. i feel better now. thanks for listening.





posted by jamelah
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