I was a DJ for ISIS!

in #steemit8 years ago (edited)

It all began in December 2015.

I had embarked upon a Vice and Buzzfeed binge and decided to grow a beard.

I grieved in the first few months as I bore what was closer to assorted pubic hair than anything else.

And on the 7th month 'LET THERE BE BEARD'. 

And I rested.

 And I sought the closest mirror to admire my work

With renewed belief in myself,  inspired by my fierce face-locks, I decided to quit my job as a telemarketer, and pursue my passion as a DJ.

I'd never been a DJ before but had once fiddled around on Garage Band.

Anyways, it's art not science.  It comes from the soul. From the profound abysses of our subconscious qualia. 

Or so I read in a Vice column.

 I applied to the local bingo hall and asked if they needed a DJ.

Unfortunately, they didn't, and it was at that moment that it struck me.

If I were to become a successful DJ, I would have to leave the UK. The scene was too crowded.

So I harassed my mother for a few weeks until she spared the necessary £200 for my flight to Syria - a modest ask.

Oh, and the other £11,000 for rent and stuff.

Syria

I arrived in Damascus in April 2016.

After a week or so of getting swindled by taxi drivers, and roadside merchants, I began to feel somewhat at home.

Indeed, the women were particularly fond of me.

 I assumed because of my sharp wit, and my English manner.

I mean, I did tell them that I was a British noble - but money can't buy affection.

After 3 weeks, I'd burned through about 1/4 of the £11,000 my mother had given me, and thought that I should probably start looking for a DJ job.

I posted adverts across Damascus, from the local butcheries to the walls of abandoned houses drug dealers traded in.

Until one day, I received a phone call from a peculiar man:

"Are you - uhm - Al-britaniki? DJ - friki-friki - Huh?" he asked.

"Yep! That's me!" I responded with singular glee.

"We need DJ - for mixing song - in Apostate execution movie."

Did he say Apostate execution? I thought.

 Meh. Perhaps it's a Syrian film genre.

"No problem. Execution, whatever. I've done it all, and will do it all again!" I assured him.

"Great. Come tomorrow to Ahmed's Butchery. Ask for Ali-the-Hammer. Mashallah brother."

"Mahatma you too?" I fumbled, "Oh and how mu-" he abruptly hung up.

That's not very nice. I frowned. 

Alas, manners are dying like 90s shows reruns...

I woke up early the following day, sporting my favourite 'Je suis Christopher Hitchens' T-shirt, and some short-shorts.

As I headed towards Ahmed's Butchery I was met with headshakes, facepalms, teeth-kissing and spitballs.

But I had a great opportunity lined up and nothing could hamper my joy. 

As I entered the Butchery, an impressively-bearded, muscular man stood up. 

Before I could greet him, he rushed towards me, picked me up and hugged me:

"I am Ali. Hammer-time Ali! Ha-Ha! You Apostate execution movie DJ?? I always love frika-frika. I wanted always to be Doctor Dre, and Snoop Doggy when child! I am big Paul Newman fan! Now, I get to meet real DJ! So Excite!" 

He exclaimed.

Oh, how I love their culture! So warm!

 No British employer had ever welcomed me so. I reflected.

Though there was something off about his all-black attire, and the Glock-17 holstered on his crocodile belt.

I just couldn't quite put my finger on it.

For a fleeting moment, I considered whether...perhaps...nooo. Surely not?


Sort:  

I saw that performance.
It was the bomb.

nice :)
unrelated:
check this concept up :
https://steemit.com/steemit/@earnest/open-oodas


Great Share @positive!

Upvoting for the italics.
That shit's on POINT
No seriously tho, you can read a totally different story if you read only the italics

Interesting read. The humor was balanced well with the flow. Great work.

My pleasure. Will look forward to your brand of content. The nick name "positive" will make sure I do not forget who is behind that humor when I read another one of yours :)

Sounds like a whale of a tale to me!