If my husband wasn't already employed as a game designer, I think he would have got a job as a comedian, since he's already one part-time. As soon as he wakes in the morning, his routine begins.
"3alaa gawlat Gollum: 'good morning my precious'," he says in Gollum's creepy and decidedly unromantic voice.
As he pours coffee beans into the grinder, I can see the cogs in his brain ticking. He is just dying to say it. So he does. "3alaa gawlat Tony Montana, 'say hello to my little friend.'"
With that, he grinds the beans madly to dust.
"3alaa gawlat Freddie Mercury, 'another one bites the dust!'"
"bas!" I wail, covering my ears. (bess)
He holds up his hands as if to say, no more. But as he puts on his jacket and prepares to leave, I'm treated to another: "ِ3alaa gawlat The Terminator, 'hasta la vista, baby'."
