Monday, May 11, 2009

Cons For Selling Organs

My marriage

I learn.

It's midnight on the eve of my departure for Canada. Sold at stake force at work to finish the things that are pending and, well, magan after three beers. I did not write a blog in three weeks, so I probably lost all the readers who pointed it occasionally.

Although the Koran does not prohibit the marriage of a Muslim man with the Book (Jew or Christian. Muslims revere the Jewish prophets and Jesus), the opposite is explicitly agreed (5th verse of the 5th sura) . I do research to better understand the case law that prohibits my marriage to Samia, because greedy men seem to interpret the word of Allah, though he never seemed to want to piss me off.

Why? Because the father is engaged to Sam (a little more to each of its steps towards the grave), and he will not be thrown into hell because her daughter is judged by his god (and, especially, by the community) as an infidel. We would go to Canada to get married according to Quebec law (thus, a valid contract), but also to please the dad, we were (going) to the Fatiha, the Muslim ceremony. According

Samia, the Imam would marry us without problems until I say the key phrase in enturbanés: Allah is the only god and Mohammed is his prophet. I would not say this sentence out of pure loyalty to my values (which are not at all religious, but I'm not lying. Point. Never. A lot better than the "faithful" certainly), but if I had, I could make me accept that this is a good sentence and that, anyway, speaking of gods is the equivalent for me to astrology, with consequences appalling number 13 or recesses in which our turds indicate that one is in love with a demon from a distant planet where the goats have bad breath. In short, fucking me. If someone wants to believe that is a stout gentleman in the sky that looks and will try its few short years on this rock is to keep it under his armpit oubedon the eternal fragrance garrocha dins for funds for aeons inflamed and that kind, it does nothing to do with a medieval ignorant megalomania of a man who sought to impose rules of behavior among the wild people of the time (and who made his case).

remains the sister Sam has some doubts. Why? Because she suffers from the syndrome of recent immigrants. She arrived in Montreal last December and has lost his bearings. Face Quebec somewhat racist and deeply secularized, religion and friends (both corrupt) replace, very ironically, forces moderating Algiers. Sam's family consists of a normal father - very sensitive to the judgments of the "community", but went to the mosque drunk alcohol at a time not so long ago - a very nice brother ultra-rational , a typical mother (hystero-manipulative), another brother and a strange little sister and otherwise independent rebel who will marry a Canadian because he is cute, strange and deeply perverse as she. In Briefly, the sister does not help us. An Imam should judge me as being "able to convert me." Otherwise, the father will disown and disinherit my wife.

OK. Seriously. Seal it all. Let's see if I can charm a Imam. If I fail, there's shit dins of the air.

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