We’ve been here while you were partying

Posted on November 26, 2010 by mskoonj

It’s always mildly amusing to bump into people who have recently returned – mid-life – to religiosity. Too often, I find that people feel like they need to breathe some fire and brimstone to make up for the long absence from piety (or so they imagine it to be). They wag fingers at other people for not being adequately high-strung, and for arriving at a path of moderation instead of remaining at the stage of one’s adolescent extremism – while they themselves just got there.

In moments of deficient humility and excessive influence from the nafs, one is tempted to be somewhat patronizing and say, “Relax, buddies, cool it. Don’t you come checking our ID’s now. We’ve been hanging out here a while when you were busy partying.”

Posted in Islam, religion, Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Mastering the internet-Blob

Posted on November 23, 2010 by mskoonj

The secret to getting work done lies concealed in mastering the internet, and not letting it master you.

The internet is like the nafs, the carnal self, which the Sufis say must be mastered, so that you ride the steed instead of it riding you.

The internet is akin to a thick, fragrant vine that twines around your hours and strangles them to suffocation. Its hundreds of tendrils attach themselves to your mind like those neuro-tubes they use in sci-fi movies.

Each email reproduces like gremlins: the quicker you respond to them, the greater in number they return until you are crushed beneath their weight. This is the case with both friends and work.

And many emails come equipped with distractions: My favorite is the one line message that says : “Check this out” next to a youtube link or a .wav file. What, pray, makes you think I will spare 5 minutes to ‘check this out,’ when I have no idea whether it will show me cat cartoons or men playing beer pong or a sentimental video that asks you to remember the women in your lives?

But with work emails in particular, you are required to respond to emails – true. So how can you keep it manageable? I have a disease: I respond to emails quickly. I spend a great deal of work-time on my laptop and I am online, so I see ‘urgent’ queries about assignments and papers as soon as they hit my inbox. And of course, responding to an email is quicker than reflecting upon the organization of a book manuscript. So I tend to respond right away. Then I realized that when I respond, 2 or 3 emails follow in quick succession. ‘Hey, she’s available. Let’s have at it.’ Each question results in a 3 new ones. So I have devises a strategy to protect myself from my quick-response disease. It’s called ‘Delay Delivery.’

For some time now, I’ve been trying to uncover tools that will simply keep the internet shut on my laptop for a certain period of time. The problem is, when I’m writing, I need articles from EBSCO and JSTOR. Yes, it’s possible to keep writing and to delay writing that passage which needs a database search, but why not look up the newest literature?

“Recent literature.” Sounds benign enough, but it’s deadly. It’s the Blob. It’s coming, and it’s going to get you. You reach out to get it, and it’s got YOU. It’s smog. It’s multiplying as we speak. Heck, it’s multiplying, and you’re making that happen. The tsunami is coming.

So you reach out a tentative finger to “recent literature” and it envelops you. One article? Hey, take 24. By the way, there are “more like this.” There are related articles and some of them are most-cited. Surely you wouldn’t want to miss them?

Posted in academic, virtual | 2 Comments

“Immigrant Eid”

Posted on November 16, 2010 by mskoonj

This poem I wrote on Eid in 2005, feels uncomfortably appropriate for tomorrow’s Eid. Still.

**immigrant eid**

they announced Eid today.

my house is silent.
i hear more sirens than usual outside.

my husband’s at work.

this morning
i couldn’t get out of bed and go
to eid namaz.

i really should push myself, i thought,
and go, but thought, then, go for what?
so my husband and i can split up
at the mosque front door to go and sit
with our respective strangers inside?
so aunties in abayas can look
at my pants, because they’re shabby and
because they’re pants, and then look up
at my face unseeing-
When we’re done i come out and wait
for him in the cold parking lot
watching people hurry to cars
and segregated parties in their
tight little colour-coordinated groups-
while a bearded man in a jalabiya
stares at this female body jammed
outside in a twisting river of men.

when i got out of bed at last, i didn’t
want to, and i couldnt stop crying
in the shower.

In Lahore,
ammi has cooked two types of sivayyan
and put them out in glass bowls,
with carrot halva and Kashmiri chai.

My Eid outfit complete with sparklies
is lying ironed on the bed.
Auntie Shaista in the drawing room loudly
waits to see how my outfit looks.

Little Izza is knocking at
my door, asking when i’ll be ready,
when I will come out to admire
her pink sharara and bright new shoes.

Asad is watching TV, but
the corner of his eye is waiting for me

Abbu and Imran are just returning
in white kurtas from eid namaz.

but here
in the fortunate first world
where I’m supposed to be bettering my life
and speaking english all the time–
here, where there is no dust, no flies,–
here, in the warm clean tiled shower
i can’t stop sobbing

Alone, with sirens screeching outside,
i prayed two rak’ahs afterwards
with seven takbeers
and seven tears hit the ja’inamaz
with far too loud a splash, and then
i read some pages of the eleventh sipara
–ironically, ya’tazirun–
and sent sawab to the Prophet,
my shaykh, my uncles and aunts,
grandparents, like ammi does, and then
i said,
I’m sorry i didn’t go to Eid namaz
and then i couldn’t stop crying again
my heart broke right there on the rug
and spilled wide open

and i said please don’t be mad at me.
look, i’m here, and my outfit’s in Lahore,
and Izza’s knocking on the door,
and I have no sivayyan,
and my heart the poor tattered heart
that I know You love
is broken today.

He looked at me, with those quiet eyes
and said, yes, I know. i cried again
and said that eid is eid
only because You’re here with me.

ten years in this new home of mine
and still eid day is not quite eid.

They say it’s eid today, but there,
on the rooftops of Lahore, young boys
saw a little sliver of moon that shone
through smoggy clouds and snaky cables
as an eagle swam across the sky.

Here, i saw no moon, i saw
moonsighting.com, and wrote an email-
eid mubarak exclamation point-
and cc’ed it to everyone.

i thought of calling ammi to say
eid mubarak. but i was afraid
my voice would catch, and she would hear
who i am here

and then i’d know for sure that she
was there, and there are no sivayyan
on my IKEA table, no halva
on the stove, no kashmiri chai
steaming in pretty china cups
no smiling niece outside my door
and no red kurta on my bed

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged | 4 Comments

The mugger and the social worker

Posted on October 26, 2010 by mskoonj

This is the kind of thing that makes you believe in humanity again. Julio Diaz, who treated his mugger and made a true connection with him, reminds me of the Sufis who served and embraced robbers. It’s a whole other mindset from our preoccupation with ‘beating’ everyone else – beating our competitors, our suffocating families, our demanding spouses, cancer, depression … Could there be a less stressful way to navigate life than to be focused on beating everything?

With more people like Julio Diaz, there is hope. With even a few more people like him, we could do better.

 

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Work and dream

Posted on October 26, 2010 by mskoonj

When you were a kid, you aspired to being a grownup. Trying out baby-alive, putting on dad’s glasses, and pretending to look serious, anxious, over-worked and stressed-out.

You have worked hard. You have reached the holy grail. You are enveloped in the lifestyle that means constant motion, constant stress, constant worry, constantly trying to stay ahead without success. Your to-do list is never done.

For weeks, I have been trying to find the time to put together a file for work. Every week, half the week is spent preparing for teaching. Then a couple of days are spent trying to catch up with the administrative and household rubbish that piled up over the work-week. (Because this is the leisure part). Suddenly, the weekend is here. Or so it’s called. Friday, Saturday and Sunday essentially mean grading and giving feedback on lengthy graduate assignments, with a mega-trip to the grocery store thrown in.

And Monday is back. The file is gathering dust. This lifestyle of never being done, of being on a treadmill that never powers down, is simply unsustainable.

And yet – most of the world lives in a state of anxiety about mere survival. – Getting enough food, protecting and nourishing one’s children, seeking safety and security – these are constant preoccupations.

Compared to that, the problems of intellectual workers are really just that – the product of intellectual work.

Am I in my own private matrix, where I have constructed a dreamworld of tenure, teaching, service, numberless committees, articles, manuscripts, book chapters, book manuscripts, reviews, conferences … a delicate crystalline structure that is a dream, a bubble?

I have always believed that this worldly concerns shouldn’t overcome your entire life, your consciousness. You should live in the world but not be of it.

In practical terms, they say, don’t spend too much time prepping for class. Get grading done fast, don’t linger over it. Get your lit reviews done by skimming the sources. Don’t savor the texture of any of these activities. Don’t stop to smell the – well, roses, or you’ll get caught in the rain.

Sometimes I wonder if there are means of seeking livelihood that allow for an independent thought here and there. Or if that is a dream. Perhaps the way is to decide what the balance of life, the division of activities is going to be – and then to make it happen.

That, too, sounds like a dream. But to those thousands of sisters and brothers who are struggling to find work so as to pay their bills, these dreams, these complaints, these are all artificial things, dreams.

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Early bedtimes are not equal to naptimes

Posted on July 11, 2010 by mskoonj

Here’s a post about something that will be of zero interest to singletons. A toddler’s afternoon nap is better than her early bedtime. I don’t see the charm of early bedtime. At bedtime, one is already too tired to do anything but vegetate in front of the TV watching netflix duds. Which of course means you sit too long and go to bed late – so that the toddler wakes up bright and early (due to early bedtime, of course) and you wake up dreadfully tired. An afternoon nap, on the other hand, is prime time. It’s day time, you are still productive, and you can get something done while the toddler sleeps. In any case, you can rest a bit in time for the toddler’s next shift.

And there was my uninteresting post.

Posted in children | 5 Comments

Internet Newbie Manual

Posted on June 8, 2010 by mskoonj

Chapter 1: Introduction

Here you are (at last). Welcome!

While everyone else is busy tweeting, friending, chatting, and skyping, you’re just wrenching yourself off the phone and creating a hotmail (shudder) username.

Don’t worry about it. And don’t let them make you feel like a loser. You’re the one that can still write “letters” even if you can’t order a humidifer from overstock just yet. You still go to Borders to buy books, and Amazon remains a deep, dark, leafy, mysterious jungle to you. You don’t yet know what Bcc does, and you still don’t know what “Reply All” does to the rest of us. When you get “Not Found,” you wonder if the computer is broken. You pay Geek Squad to open Microsoft Word when it shuts down abruptly and takes your letter to the gas company with it. You don’t really know for 100% sure what PC, netbook, notebook, software, hardware, and programs really mean, but you don’t dare confess to that.

Here’s your welcome note, and a short introductory manual for internet use. Think of it as a Guide to the Internet similar to tourist guidebooks. This way you won’t butt in on list-servs, sending a message asking to unsubscribe to every list-member. You won’t (please) Reply-All. You won’t Reply-All to your entire religious congregation when you really want to send a lightly flirtatious email to ONE of the recipients. You won’t, in short, make a nuisance of yourself as you blunder around cyberspace.

Chapter 2: BASIC CAUTIONARY NOTES:

1. The “FORWARD” button should be marked with a big BEWARE! DO NOT TOUCH! For the first six months, DO NOT USE THE FORWARD COMMAND. The temptation to do so will be severe, and you want to send jokes dating from 1990 to your work colleagues. You want to send warnings about aspartame and cancer  to your grandchildren. Surely everyone ought to know how their daughters could become pregnant with octopi?? And why shouldn’t you forward the inspirational chain letter about mothers to 10 other friends? Or you should urge your friends to put down “Jedi” as your religion so they can reach the requisite 10k? You yearn to forward angry news items from religious right-wingers who are convinced that Everyone Else  is launching a movement to erase your denomination from the planet. You want to forward photos of celebrities engaged in nasty acts. Why, you wonder, is it so bad for you to SHARE? Isn’t the internet all about sharing? Isn’t it all about information spreading like the oil-spill across the oceans?

Maybe it is. But consider yourself like a 7-year old child in matters of sexuality. Yes, you have sex organs. But you should not do it. Yes, you can hit forward. Just DON’T DO IT! Remember Nancy Reagan’s slogan, and stick to it.

2. Don’t open emails from ANYONE you don’t know for that 6-month period. Even if it promises to show you Obama coupling or Kama Sutra images. Especially if it urges you to pick up your lottery winnings, and trust that no one’s handing out big wads of cash for doing practically nothing, whether they’re in Nigeria or anywhere else. Trust that it’s all illusion, unless it’s an email from Mom – (Subject Line: Why haven’t you called me?) or from your husband (Subj: Will be l8 again) or from your Dad – (Subj: Come over and help me with VCR again). If you don’t know them, delete it. For at least 6 months. Consider yourself as committing a 6-month fast on words such as Millions, Lottery, Free, S*x and so on.

3. Cleave to “SAVE DRAFT.” The Save Draft is your friend. Having poured out anger, bile, accusations, and fury in an email, do not hit SEND. Hit “Save.” Then Shut Down. Get a smoothie. Watch a movie. Then Power On. If you’re still inclined to read it, take a look at Drafts. If the email you typed 5 hours ago still seems like something you would sign your name to, then hit Send.

4. You can look for it YOURSELF.  Before you ask your friends to give you information on how to weed your garden, wean your child, get a job or a degree, or find a rental, type your question into the box at google.com or yahoo.com. You will find information mixed with rubbish, but you will find information. If you want to know about it, it is probably there. The internet is pulsing with enormous quantities of information, both useful and useless, (usually) free for the taking.

5. What you do on the internet is not private. For the first few months on the internet, avoid typing in your  SS#, DOB, Mother’s maiden name, Father’s middle name, Name of first pet, color of first car, and city you were born or married in. If you’re on Facebook, for instance, uncheck the boxes that say every prying eye can see your children’s videos, your personal information, and your status updates about your raving lunatic of an employer. Come to think of it, for 6 months, don’t blog. If you must leave comments on forums and at blogs, etc., don’t leave your first, middle and last names along with your hometown. Please. I saw you ranting about how you’re sick of them flooding your nice neighborhood, and I don’t like you anymore.

Once you’re done with your probationary period, you may go ahead and open accounts with retailers and overstock and gap.com if you want. And when you do start logging into your bank account, make sure you don’t do so when you are sitting in Starbucks. People can “see” you. You should make sure someone sets your home network so that no one else can use it.

6.When you’re creating a password, use your brains. Don’t just be lazy and do the DOB with your initials, or your spouse/kids’/grandkids’ initials and DOBs. People know this information. Use something not everyone knows, like the theater where your water broke, or the neighborhood where your SIL’s mother’s niece’s MIL lives. You get my drift.

7. For a year, don’t download any Porn. You shouldn’t be downloading porn anyway. These websites reproduce.  penetrate deep inside your PC, thrusting their tentacles into its deepest recesses, snooping around for your private (info). Consider yourself abstinent for a year and don’t do it.

8. The Really Good Deals Are Not. Save yourself some time and know that those ridiculously low prices have conditions attached. That cruise price is base price, w/o tax, only for one night and only at the worst possible time of the year. That travelocity deal is probably gone by the time you get to it, but has served its purpose (i.e. getting you to click on travelocity.com). And on craigslist, for instance, pretend you don’t see those screaming ads NO SCAMS! YOU CAN GET A FREE JEEP CHEROKEE LIKE I DID! or GET THEM BEFORE THEY’RE GONE! $200 VACATION PACKAGE DEALS IN MIAMI! If you want a crazy-high-followed-by-a-depressing-low, just eat some chocolate, or get a coffee. Don’t go to the arms of scammers and businesses fishing for eyes.

9. Your Clicks Are Wanted. Know that businesses and websites want you to click on their links. Your clicks mean money to someone. So don’t throw your money around. Save yourself for the really good stuff.

Anyone want to add Chapter 3?

Posted in social science, virtual | 6 Comments

Bewilderment is sometimes religious: the horrors of child abuse

Posted on June 1, 2010 by mskoonj

28-year old Melissa Huckaby kidnapped 8-year old Sandra Cantu, raped her with a foreign object, and murdered her. Sandra’s body was found stuffed in a suitcase, in an irrigation pond. When all the amazement over a woman (and a mother) being a rapist and a murderer was done, we are left with the tragedy, the terror and the brutalization that Sandra underwent.

Every day, all over the world, children are raped. Children are brutalized and beaten. Children are exploited for sex. Children are used for labor. Children are forced to beg – many of those are maimed so that they may bring in greater earnings. Children are sold into slavery and prostitution. And while we may prefer to treat this as a problem of poor brown folks, the problem is here too.   Children are starved to death, powerless, with food just feet away from them. Children are deprived of normalcy, innocence, happiness.

As a parent, as a religious person, as a human being, in witnessing such crimes against innocence, I cannot escape that horror that shakes me to the core. Having been raised in the “developing world” – as it is optimistically described, despite the tentacles that continue to probe its insides, I know how much worse the fate is that awaits victims of brutalization.

It is difficult, often, in the face of such agony, to face the world that contains such horrors. It is difficult to make sense of anything at all.

Many times a day, when I look upon my 4-year old daughter playing with bubbles in the bathtub, the intense and horrific images of Shaniya Davis’s fate pass before my eyes.  As I hold her to comfort her grief over a lost stuffed toy, I see the bizarre image of pimps kidnapping children, orphaned in the Pakistani earthquake. I cannot stop thinking about parents selling their daughter Sumayya (7) so they could build a new house.

I do not understand. I cannot bear to have my daughter shiver in the snow. Her fear of a “How to Train Your Dragon” battle scene cuts me to the quick. But there are mothers who force their daughters into beauty pageants. There are mothers who abuse, neglect, beat, starve and sell their children. But most mothers would lay down their lives for their children. A mother’s heart breaking for her child’s pain, fear, suffering, hunger, cannot understand – a mother’s heart breaking for any child because all children must must must have innocence, peace, happiness, play, food, sunshine, and free air. And too, too many children do not. I do not understand a world where children suffer, are brutalized, are beaten, are raped, and die terrible deaths.

As a religious person, this I find to be a mystery I cannot fathom.

Suffering can cultivate strength in some people. In the Surah of the Cave, we read of how Khidr teaches Moses lessons about the ultimate wisdom of Fate, teaches him how suffering and death may serve a higher purpose and may bring about ease in the future.

Rape and abuse, as far as we know, do not have salutary effects upon a child’s future.

With the scale and degree of suffering, misery, victimization that we see today among children, this is a hidden blessing in no shape or form. This is a grotesque, satanic, evil inversion of the very nature of humanity.

The revulsion that you and I feel when we hear of Shaniya Davis’s rape, or the little orphan Aisha being sold into prostitution is, I think, entirely religious. The horror at sharing species with a being who would use physical power over a child to force her into sex is not a “secular” or anti-religious impulse. It is an instinct that attacks, from the very gut, behavior that is unnatural, behavior that is the total inversion of what it should be – protective of childhood innocence. The philosophical incomprehension is spiritual, at some level. There are other ways of religiously processing such horrors and surviving their impact, but this is one.

But it is hard to not understand. The intense physicality of child abuse is of a nature that does not allow us to retreat from it. It’s not like famine due to natural causes, or like the destruction wrought by a tsunami. It is ugly. If we do not understand its occurrence in the same world that we occupy, how can we accept the world in which we live? How can we accept or trust or face fellow members of the human race, who would use small children in kiddy porn to make dollars? How can we understand?

As a mother, I have gradually come to the conclusion that it is not for us to understand.

It is not decent for us to indulge, to luxuriate in the ultimately patrician pastime of making sense of these horrors. A God’s eye view is not for us. The only option that remains for us is to fight these crimes, comprehending or not. Whether we can sociologically process root causes, whether success ensues or not, whether we can prevent one Huckaby from victimizing one more Sandra Cantu, we should not waste time pondering the damned shame of such lives and such deaths. Reflecting upon such things overlong, and comforting ourselves with explanations or fine chocolates, this is effort that should be spent upon fighting abuse, kiddy porn, war, poverty, illiteracy, ignorance, lawlessness, any of the potential factors involved in human misery.

This, I think, is the only truly religious response to such things.

Posted in children, gender, religion, social science | 2 Comments

Classes on non-virtual interaction

Posted on May 9, 2010 by mskoonj

The rare skills imparted in this series of classes are generally limited to the elderly and the middle-aged born prior to the 1980s. Please note that organizers are not responsible for psychological or physical damage.

Series includes such topics as:

  • What is Non-Facebooking? Addresses such skills as how to close the Facebook browser and keep it that way. For a little while.
  • How Not to Tweet. Tweetdeck can be avoided, and here we show you how. Examples include deleting the Twitter number from your cellphone.
  • The Basics of Non-Virtual People. Here we discusses the biological composition of human beings and what speech entails.
  • Touch, Don’t Poke. Skin can be scary, but you can touch it. This class is an interactive workshop that gradually raises you to the level of a handshake. An advanced series explores the ancient art of hugging.
  • Going Offline Will Not Kill. It does mean you will not get poked or pinged but there are strategies that can help you survive going offline long enough for a quick shower.
  • It’s OK to Get Out of Your Desk Chair. The extreme sport of standing up straight.  
  • Life After Powering Down: Strange But True. We do not deny that it takes an enormous leap of faith but we’d like to share with you the alternative perspectives of those who have returned from the other side to speak of a different form of living after powering down. Touches upon the lost art of multiple Alt-F4s. Therapists and counselors will assist you in facing the fear of the ultimate.
  • Venturing Into The Physical World. Strange things await you when you are no longer chatting, blogging, tweeting, messaging, emailing, or surfing. Some of them may be of interest.
  • The Origins of “Chat.” Exploring little-known Older English meanings of chatting, which, it seems, referred to face-to-face conversation or speaking about trivial matters in person.
  • A BlackBerry is Not A Limb. This active class is only for the physically adventurous, as it involves actual removal of the cellphone from one’s hand, and the de-activation of the texting thumb.
  • There is Sound Beyond Ipods. Another frightening but exhilarating experience, where we assist you in stripping your ears nude in front of a number of persons, some of whom will be speaking. The predictability and control factors of what you hear definitely pale in comparison to the normal (Ipod) mode, but it is a different experience.
  • The Day Email Was Not Checked. Outlook is not the same as breathing, and we will show you how to survive not checking for new emails for the entire duration of two hours.
  • Letters. A historical exploration of a mysterious form of emails, with the use of Paper and Pens. (Materials provided).
  • Intimacy – with Others? (Adults Only). Explores the possibility of intimacy that involves other human beings rather than jpegs.
Posted in cultural, virtual | 7 Comments

The Cadbury fiasco

Posted on February 12, 2010 by mskoonj

Horror of horrors. Cadbury has been acquired by Kraft! Cadbury, practically the national mascot of Britain, goes to Kraft – an American company that makes cheese. Cheese and chocolate – these are both European domains. The US does not belong in Cadbury. My childhood fantasies are being shattered this very moment.

The Americans need to stick to their strong points: no matter how much you may sniff at wrap-around central heating, once you have tasted of it, you may not want to cling to a lukewarm radiator in the evening. And an American traveler in the U.K. will quickly notice the paucity of clean public toilets/restrooms as well as the relatively inaccessible public facilities. Yet as designers of sink-faucets, Americans can brag about rational design: I have never once encountered a sink that featured separate hot and cold taps, that ensured you froze or burned to death if you tried to make your wudu (ablutions) for prayer.

As for food in general, well, British food was resuscitated from deathly pallor by South Asian fare, and American food has been cast into a coma by KFC and McD’s, so that’s neither here nor there, except when speaking of vinegar-sprinkled British fish-n-chips. Speaking of chips, ‘fries’ that are really toothpicks do not appear to serve much purpose by way of food, and the Americans would do well to mimic how the rest of the world fixes potatoes.

Of course when it comes to connecting a country with a web of punctual trains, the U.S. performs poorly, preferring to let loose armies of square ugly vehicles that crowd the land from sea to shining sea. But the people even in those cars are more likely to exchange pleasantries with you at traffic lights than those hurtling along in the little itty bitty cars in the UK.

Though one should say that Americans certainly beat the British when it comes to smiling – or talking – or laughing – or being nice, or effusive. Maybe this was a strategy to keep more warm-blooded swarthy immigrants away, and to send them to friendlier shores. Indeed, Americans are far better at talking about nothing as well as avoiding talking about uncomfortable subjects than their British counterparts. Watching British television, news or political debate makes Americans feel like they’ve been bruised and beaten.

Compare, for instance, “The Office” (UK) with “The Office” (US). One gives you stomach acid. The other features a series of rather lovable eccentric characters getting into a series of harmless and silly pickles. Viewers accustomed to American sit-coms might find themselves scratching their heads and picking up their dictionaries to watch “Chef!” which isn’t even that complicated.

But when it comes to chocolate, let’s get it straight. Snickers (shudder) is not equal to Mars. Whitman’s Sampler is nothing like Quality Street. Three Musketeers is definitely not Aero. Flake, Bounty, and Galaxy have no equivalent in the US. As for Reese’s, well, in my book, the relationship between chocolate and peanut butter is simply an inappropriate one. Kraft would be krafty to keep its grubby hands off Cadbury’s standards. Keep out the vegetable oils, and leave the dairy and the cocoa in. Stick to sink faucets.

Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments