If Friendzone was a number, then it would be “96”
Mr. Krabs is portrayed as being stingy, but he pays his fry cook and cashier enough that they can own homes on single incomes, with incredible work-life balance to boot.
“Foreign poets are hotter, because we know war, we are born with war, we are the war. Our poetry has the deepest roots. Perhaps, the ugliest, the most delicious. The sharpest accent. The most heartbreaking metaphors. First generation, second generation, and you would still feel the agony the white men left in our grandfathers’ skin. And dare me, I lick my fingers and I eat your European food with pride my darlings, for our spices made your countries.”
— My Grandfathers Own Europe from The Immigration Series by Royla Asghar
“In our little kitchen, water boiling, raw meat on the counter, my mother preaching poetry, hardcore politics, life lessons from her unwritten biography. She calls me wild, and I smirk. I tell her, mother, no, you’ve gone mad. But the girly soul of hers knows, the butterflies in her belly, they know who she has given birth to, so they fly up her throat to warn her, but I can see her swallowing them. So she tells me; Darling, take care of your life. This life isn’t a coffee date with your girlfriends, you can’t just laugh and leave it. Do your prayers, say the soft words sent from God, that have such a heavy weight. Learn to cook and clean, and don’t end your marriage in divorce. Wish for children and be their mother. And remember that behind every succesful man, there’s a woman; a mother. And I am sorry for you, I am sorry that you are a woman with a man’s wicked brain, but don’t lose the perfume of femininity. Let it be you. Let it be you who raises a nation of good men. This religion is ours, women are the religion for men, and goddamn, a good man worships his God and his woman. She cuts the raw meat in pieces and puts it in the boiling water, and that is the greatest metaphor.”
— My Mother Is Talking Politics by Royla Asghar
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