Gaga Much? Here’s Lord Gaga.

So I was PSM-ing and being all bitchy about some of my colleagues at work, throwing tantrums at people who are not my colleagues, praying some of my professors at university died, and maxing out on my mother’s credit card, when this came my way:

I heart Lady Gaga, and if I had had another heart, I’d gift it to her just in case hers stopped beating because of  all the cocaine. So, a Lord Gaga, theoretically, should be my soul mate, and this one being Arab poses no problem at all because I haven’t been brushing up my Arabic for naught. Here’s Lord Gaga:

Okay, maybe not my soul mate.

All the Arabs I know have one word for him: gay. Well, he is not necessarily as butch as some of our other Arab male friends are, and he might be gay, which shouldn’t be a problem, but look at the brighter side. He’s not hairy. He might one day bless us with a sight of him knotted in Lady Gaga’s raw meat bikini, which will be highly amusing in the Arab world, wouldn’t it? And if the raw meat is offal, then you can bet the judges and the audience will clamour to bite some of it off because there’s nothing better than sheep testicles around here.  I wonder, however, how attractive a man in a meat bikini would be. Would that amount to a mankini?

After Lord Gaga does a terrible dance to a Lady Gaga-Lady Gaga mash-up, one of the judges says Allah-u-Akbar. I think this is when I should stay mum; deportation doesn’t exactly catch my fancy. Anyway, this fellow has cleared this round, and I, in my right mind, can’t imagine why. He’s not funny; he’s silly. He panics in the beginning. He has no skills. He’s just a whole lot gaga.

I now have enough reason to watch Arabs Got Talent. Lord Gaga probably has enough Gaga gimmicks and gags up his arse, and come what may, I must see him in a meat costume, being tortured by a Russian sex-slave owner, like Lady Gaga is in Bad Romance. In the above clip, he challenges Lady Gaga to a duel. Dude, all Lady Gaga has to do is shoot another Bad Romance or wear stinky chicken feathers, and guess what, she’ll be adored for her outrageousness. You, my friend, will be alone forever . Gay men will maintain their distance from you like you are known for running away with people’s balls and straight women will treat you like a hairless patch of skin in a perfectly hairy lot of Arab men.

I wouldn’t blame Lady Gaga for what Lord Gaga has made of himself. If this is his way of coming out of the closet, good for him. If not, then I’d like to travel all the way to Syria, plant a time capsule outside his door telling him how this will mentally frack him until he dies. Everywhere he goes, he’ll be thought of as Rebecca Black. Arab teenagers will give him the Arab finger in the streets, and employers will tut-tut and spit out pharyngeals, gutturals, and uvulars (which by the way are sounds that make Arabic sound like battlefield language). Wait, does Syria have farms where Lord Gaga could retire?