Bloody Bloggard

...a note..

2007-02-23T15:47:00.000+05:30

Elvis has NOT left the building. Yet.

What are you good Ad?

2006-04-27T15:19:00.000+05:30

Its been a truly yawning gap since my last post. Work in office was a bitch!
Also, am married!!! (No Pun Intended, OK??)

The other day, my wife was cribbing about their (Ad) agency not getting even a single nomination at the local awards. This despite some of their work to be far better than the works of the winning ticket, apparently! My wife’s agency is a large MNC but with clients that can influence apocryphal mood swings in her, that I fear I’d very soon end up on the wall, on a foto frame with a smoking agarbathi (Incense).

Am a lay person, and to me Ads are the time you run to the loo, or catch up a bite or quickly browse what’s on other channels. In print, Ads are where I keep my coffee mug so it doesn’t block my read. On the roads, my attention is drawn, since school, to the Amul butter Ads and those that show a nice, healthy looking woman saying something that is completely ignored or over-shadowed by ooommpphh!

Agree, there are some very good examples of creative excellence, but how effective are most of it in getting the cash registers ringing for the brands?
Definitely not like this Ad, actually a super slink advert induced sales, that happened in Winnipeg, Canada. Only difference, this ad was thought of by the brand owners themselves!

This one came out in a free farmer’s journal and in a handful of other rural and small town papers catering more to the agricultural fraternity. It was that of a super-efficient bug killer. A crop-bug killing instrument, to be more precise.
The Ad goes something like this:

“a sure-fire, quick-kill, instant, always ready potato bug killer. It never missed, and easy to use. Only $1.50 or $1.25. Even a child can use it”, the ads said.
Now, rural Canada was constantly faced with the menace of bugs and what kinda toothless farmer didn’t have a dollar to spare??
There was a formal warning as well, “Limited Stocks Only, Order Now and Don’t Be Told We Ran Out Of Stock”. Now that sure did kick in the urgency and in a week, by the time the papers realized and removed the Ad, over 10,000 pieces were sold pre-paid to the hapless farmers who sure got the marvelous invention.

Two small pieces of wood, with an instruction Manual that read:
“Place the bug on one piece and crush immediately with the other using your own hands. Very Easy, even a child can use!”

See Creativity??

Pubbers Become Celebs!!!

2006-01-05T22:09:00.000+05:30

Couple of friends drinking in a bar on a weekend. Engaged in spirited conversation that bounces between arguments and curses. Vehement disagreement and a bet is laid. So far, nothing extra-ordinary. Things like this happen all the time, everywhere.

But not so between Jules and Michael. A beer place, an argument, a bet and then celeb status. Nice, uh? When Michael argued that most Celebs don’t care or go out of the way to take time out for a member of the general public, Jules defied and the bet was born. 100 out of the 500 celeb list Michael draws out are to be contacted and a memento procured, to win. Jules posts his progress on this website on a daily basis and has apparently hit a cult following in the UK. There are rules, as there always are, and prizes too, but the best thing about the whole do is, all the proceeds that come by way of auctioning out the mementos will go to charity. Splendid!

Jules has already met Cherie Blair, John Major, Charles Kennedy, Lord Archer, Sir Patrick Moore etc, to name a few. He has quite a few more names, which in my limited knowledge of British celebrities, don’t ring a bell.
Also, he is nominated by the Yahoo! Search Find of the Year Award 2005. To get this bloke to win, perhaps all you guys can visit his site to increase the traffic.
To help someone intending to help others, is helping others.

Wishing Jules all the best in his endeavor.

Letter of Resignation

2005-12-27T22:09:00.000+05:30

One of my friend called me a couple of days back and asked me to write a resignation letter for him. He works for an Apparel Company that procures orders from American and European labels and mass produces here in India. He was pretty pissed after having put 5 years of hard work and is terribly disgruntled in terms of self-gratification achieved. However, the resignation letter he asked me was not supposed to look anything like the one I wrote for him (below), instead, was to be a nicely worded polite, official one.

For those who are not familiar with the functions of Garment Export Industry, here’s a quick overview to better figure out certain technicalities mentioned in the letter.

Ø Buyers are clients or International labels that source garments from Asian countries and sell it in their markets, usually, the developed world for ludicrously high prices.
Ø Ship Cancel dates are dates by which an certain order quantity has to be put in a ship to sail out, failing which, the buyer will claim the goods in huge discounts that usually dries up all profits.
Ø Quality is closely scrutinized and borders around harassment leaving us too stressed out to meet deliveries, which usually is touch and go.
Ø Quality control guys are mercenaries who are trained to reject everything the 1st time around. In some countries, it is legal to kill them.

Letter of Resignation

Dear Whoever

This January 5th, I would have completed 5 years at this organization. I must mention right away that these 5 years has been glorious in terms of what was learnt and achieved and how far more educated I am from the day I started.

What I have learnt in this course of time will, no doubt help me deal with some extra ordinary types of assholes in the future company I might work for, there are also some pearls of wisdom that I cannot help but point out, such as:

Garment manufacturing is a glorified tailoring business.

No matter how hard you try, the jerks we call buyer and to whom we swore a lifelong servitude, is harder to please than a whore on discount.

The friggin series of matching - thread, color, fabric, buttons, zippers, vomit etc that we do so religiously everyday, only fuels the audacity to exercise their power to reject as though the end consumer will commit suicide if the buttons were fucking plastic or metal or made of cowdung and has the color of an octopus's fart!

If the shipment does not meet the agreed Ship Cancel Date, large communities of anxious consumers will shoot each other in mental delirium or die of starvation, that’s how Africa as we know it now, was born.

Having said the above, I must also add that my personal life is in shambles. There used to be times when I used to dream of beaches and semi nude bodies and wake up with a purpose. Now, I am a hopeless insomniac, a drunk, and dream of calendars with morbid dates circled in Red.

In hindsight, there is not much pride to take to my grave, and as I look forward, the promise is as good as 2 litres of pee in a punctured balloon. If you think am disillusioned and need a shrink, you are right, I am on my way to the asylum but not before I introduce you to a mad dog with herpes that specializes in biting off genitals.

Therefore, to preserve my fast depleting sanity and to restore LIFE into the days I live, I Quit.

Yours Truly

P.S: My friend liked it so much that he submitted this to his boss!

Aviophobia - A Disorder That Makes Me Grin Like an Idiot!

2005-12-19T22:46:00.000+05:30

Have always wondered if it were a better idea to give the safety instructions for air travel outside at the Air Ticket booking counter. It doesn’t make much difference when they start the discourse when the plane is already taxying for take-off at an average speed that usually is fast enough to splatter humans on the ground like locusts on your speeding car’s windshield.

The stewardesses talk so mundanely as if it’s a common thing for a plane to dive into the sea or crash in mid-air. “When the air pressure drops, the over head oxygen masks will drop automatically which, you must grab in order to protect your nose and mouth while the rest of your body is burning at 6000 degrees Celsius, thankyou”

“The life vest is placed under your seat which, when the plane lands(??) on water, you must wear and pull the yellow knob to inflate” …..are they saying they have runways on water?? After landing, what then?? Are you supposed to bob in the ocean until the Rescue arrives or the Great Whites?? Have you heard of any commercial airlines making successful water landings??

I’d rather they said, “In the unlikely event of a crash, the pilot will distribute some crack to all on board to roll a joint, for those who don’t do drugs, booze will be administered intravenously”

“Hi, this is your captain Jeb speaking, Whatever Airlines welcome you on board Flight # 274 to …hey what’s that, GOD NO LOOKOUT., YYYEAAAARRRGGGHHHHH”

I don’t know if am crazy, but every time in the flight, am overcome with many possibilities of death. An average plane has about 5 million parts, most of which apparently are crucial and the average rate of mechanical things that can go wrong is about 1 in 1 million, which increases my chances by 5 times!
Am not the kind that suffer from airplane phobia, but what’s worse is, the casual acceptance that death will be sudden, painless and in large groups, makes me look like a sadist, ….am I?? Hell no, ask the others!

However, in mid-flights, especially in long hauls, when most co-passengers are dozing, there’s an eerie silence pervading the cabin that sounds like the prelude to mayhem. I’ve seen in movies. So in order to divert my attention, I come up with distractive comedy to amuse myself, ofcourse in my mind, thinking of various scenarios such as:

“This is flight 234, calling Bombay ATC, Do you hear?”
“This is who??….”
“Flight 234, do you read, come in Bby ATC”
“Do you know what time it is, asshole”
Click.

“Passengers are requested to put their seat belts on, bend forward, yeah, with one knee on top of the other and take a deep breath, now put your right hand into one loop of your folded leg on the opposite and the other hand likewise, tighten up, now, tell us where the friggin diamonds are”

“This is your captain speaking, looks like we have a problem with the right engine. We are trying to restart by shutting down all on-board systems, please do not open windows”

“Uh-oh”

“This is a non-smoking flight, except of course, when things blow up”

“May day, May Day, This is Flight 745 calling ATC for help”
“This is LAX ATC, come in Flight 745”
“Well that’s the problem Lax, we aren’t coming in no more, dickheads!”

Guess am incorrigible!!!

WTO - We Want Your Money (6th Round)

2005-12-18T22:06:00.000+05:30

What’s the WTO meet trying to achieve?? Every year, many top dignitaries of member countries fix up a date, time, place, airline tickets and hotel rooms to meet up and unanimously agree the other is a whole country of shameless robbers and gravediggers.
There are 2 main groups that sit on either side of the divide, one that is highly industrialized and thus rich with sky rocketing employee benefits and social welfare that makes even the cost of a pretzel seem like that of a Rolls-Royce jet engine while the other can make near rolls-Royce jet engines at the cost of a Pretzel with labor benefits a little better than buying adequate amount of toilet paper for the whole family for a whole year.

They met in Singapore, in Doha, in Cancun, and now in Hong kong and each is called a round and this is the 6th round of ministerial level talks. After so many rounds of talks, many elderly members are already feeling dizzy and are ready to vomit on the microphone while delivering an important repartee.
They discuss important issues like, Why Indian Cobras lost their appetite for Brazilian Bull Frogs?? Will they eat Chinese frogs or Chinese farmers?? What tastes better? What’s for Europe in this?? Since English Europeans coined the words, Bull Frog, Cobra and Farmer, whatever whoever eats anywhere, should pay us patency taxes! Hahaha!

While leaders of Asian countries feverishly defend their interests by bunking the conference and lounging in topless massage parlors, drunk out of their skull, the Americans are looking for WMD. The EU wants a cut in every word traded in the Asian and South American markets, while the Americans want to push their biggest export commodity – The CIA, which is responsible for Poverty in Africa, Bad Weather and Saliva.

Amidst all this annual pre-planned chaos, comes the annual pre-planned protest. People from different walks of life join together well in advance to write catchy phrases on placards, denouncing the WTO which, according to them “are a bunch of weasels out to ruin us” These are the guardians of Social Justice and Equal Opportunity, taking off from their work, to relentlessly fight against global capitalist hegemony, breaking away from apathy and telling the world in resounding solidarity, “Beer Rocks!”

While the protest is the most colorful cultural event that the various TV crews capture while the boring meetings are underway, the whole world watches re-runs of the NBA, Cricket or King Kong.

3 wishes, Ribbit!

2005-12-18T11:13:00.000+05:30

Three things I’d love to do atleast once in my life:

To give into the urge to deboard my train and get on the train in the opposite platform that goes back to my town, whenever I return from Kerala.
To drive off in a 4x4 on a rainy day to Kerala via Mysore, Bandipur, Wyanad, Chamarassery, Tirunelly, Mananthavady and enter Thalassery.
To call up my boss one fine morning and tell him am on my way driving to Goa and the report that was due from me will have to wait until I return. If he asks when I’d return, I’d say, “That depends….!”

As you can see, I have very simple desires to bring about happiness and a sense of great fulfillment, that am quite easy to be pleased, but when it actually comes down to doing it, reality opens its mouth like a crazy crocodile about to bite my head off.

Wish 1 is something that am very close to doing, perhaps in one of the few trips that’s coming up. Wish 2 however, is very doable and very much normal, but for the lack of a 4x4 SUV. Am working on it and will get atleast a 2nd hand very soon.Wish 3 is a totally different ball game altogether, its not like getting an SUV or whimsically doing a U-turn back into Kerala. This is like getting the crocodile open its mouth and placing my head into it. If I had a rich father, or a rich heirless uncle, I would have applied by now for a hundred jobs only to do this in the very 1st month. Nevertheless, I am working on this too!!!!

2005-12-14T22:11:00.000+05:30

Mt.Rushmore - the world’s largest sculpted monument. The carved faces are so realistic…

2005-12-14T22:09:00.000+05:30

…that we now finally figured who’s behind it!!!

India is ours, says Blahistan!!!

2005-12-13T22:33:00.000+05:30

This preposterous article appeared in the pages of PakTribune – a National English Daily of Pakistan by a half-baked journalist called Aftab, who apparently is also a Lawyer in a Pak High Court.

The piece titled, “Islamic Republic of India”, goes on to say that the name “India” rightfully belongs to the Pakistani Muslims and that we Indians, as wily as we are, stole it from them. He goes on with his ludicrous diatribe with fabricated history and a deliberate intent on malice inciting hatred. I must warn you however, that his tirade, which at many points, seem like the work of a trained primate, is winding, chaotic and at best, confusing.

What beats me however is, how a mainstream media entity such as the PakTribune stoop to his level of unworthiness to have this content published.
I usually do not post such write ups in this blogsite, but this begs attention to the fact that Pakistani readership might have degenerated to the point that they lap up any crap written by any dimwit so long as it is India-Bashing. Or was there any standard in the 1st place for degeneration. I hope I haven’t indulged in flattery?

Also the press blokes at PT has refused to publish my response which I quote below:

I am truly amazed at a Pakistani mainstream media allowing a tout-journalist
like Aftab 'the advocate' rattle off a ludicrous tirade. One can well judge the
quality of the Pakistani print media and of course their Judiciary with a
blatant lawyer cum fanatic waving his banter flag.

I seriously couldn’t help laughing at this mediocrity and couldn’t but thank God more for
being born as an Indian. On the other hand, it is people like him that give the
biggest dimwit a source of hope that he has someone way behind his
intelligence.

If the author wants to change his country's name by borrowing it from us., so be it. A donkey cannot turn into a Stallion by merely changing the name.

I suggest Aftab visits India sometime to see for himself how our muslim brothers are doing here. I personally have a lot of muslim friends some of whom are doing better than I. I dont know how this might help dispel his doubts about Indian Muslim being persecuted in my country. But honestly, I couldn’t care less.

Also, Mohd.Kaif, Irfan Pathan, Sania Mirza, Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, MF Hussain, are but a very few famous muslim personalities I can point out right away who have excelled in their respective fields of excellence, and if by your account Muslims are not given
equal opportunities here in my country, I dont see these people achieving such
dizzy heights of mass adulations and enormous success.
Talking of mass adulations, our present president, His Excellency Shri APJ Abdul Kalam inspires an entire generation of young and adult minds alike, the world over, sowing the
seeds of prosperity, tolerance and universal brotherhood. This is the holy war
you must inculcate in your younger generations and not spread dead bodies of
potentially creative minds misguided in the name of religious revenge.

Your vicious vitriol bespeaks your violent moorings and stunted worldview that will dangerously impede development and growth. If PakTribune wishes to be respected, it must refrain from letting space to such demented opinions that stoke the fire of hatred and insecurity.
Finally, a few statistics that you might want to know before you embark on invading
India:

1. India has the second largest Military in the world, about 1.6 Million enrolled personnel and about half that in reserves.
2. Our Airforce is the world's 4th best and our Navy the sixth.
3. We have the only supersonic long range inter ballistic missile (along with Russia) with nuclear warhead capability.
4. Our space program is the 2nd best in the world and we
offer launch vehicles and satellites to advanced nations such as Germany,
Bulgaria, Belgium and a lot more.
5. Every software sold/used in this planet has had an Indian's contribution at some level at some point.
6. The second richest community apart from the Jews in America are the Indians and is growing at a pace Pakistan' GDP can probably never catch up with.

Having said this, I must point out that we Indians have learnt from our past and
will not indulge in material pleasures like the King Prithviraj Chauhan did.
This time we, Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, Jains, Budhists, Zoroastrians,
Jews, Bahais collectively called Indians, will stick together and annihilate
without leaving a trace of those who have imperial desires. It would bode well
for your country to foster friendship with us rather than taking up violence. We
have a lot in common and lot to achieve together. Hatred breeds cultural
stagnation and will gravely affect a nation's thrust toward progress resulting
in a whole generation of misled youth that become cannon fodder in the name of
suicidal terrorism.

We are not scared of war and will never be, as can be gleaned from history, but have kept aside our arms to embrace human development and quality of life, religion is but an individual choice and we respect each one's faith.
Gujarat was an aberration, like the riots of Mississippi or much recently, Paris, an mindless inflammation of human rage. It would help if you could stop taking these for examples to hate and start seeing examples of human excellence that pervades this country
instead.

Once again let me re-assure you that when push comes to shove, every Indian will leave his religious identity and wear his patriotic cloak in the name of the motherland to lay his life in pride. I can swear by that.
To a hand extended in friendship, we will bestow all our good will as Indians and to the hand that bleeds us, we will use our incredible might, size and intelligence to overcome the threat. At the end of it all, it would look like a 100 tonne jack hammer was used to kill a mosquito. Infact, we no longer consider Pakistan a threat cuz we believe adversaries have to match in size, strength and intellect to maintain a level of fairness. We are looking at
conquering adversaries with the use of prosperous ideas and trade relations and
will fix the nagging pain nibbling at our feet while, say taking a tea break?

A Sincere Plea to my Wife

2005-12-11T22:06:00.000+05:30

My Dearest,

I only wish you make the slightest effort in understanding my predicament. Whereas my love for you is absolute, and that I as a physical entity will do anything for you, there is very little I can do to interfere with the functions of my internal organs. They are obstinate little mindless creatures that never see the light of day, and reason, let alone, understand my love for you, and are ceaselessly involved in blindly doing the same things over and over until I turn into vermin chow.

For example, the endocrine system doesn’t give a rat’s ass if I bought you a fancy diamond ring. It just goes on secreting the myriad hormones into the blood stream while my brain is still screaming out in protest that I busted my credit cards 6 times over and that the banks have sent armed troops to recover the money. The screaming brain is gagged with the happy endorphins secreted with the help of the endocrine; when I see you, my lovely wife, gasp in joy at the wonderful gift.

Likewise, the digestive system doesn’t give a shit if I promised I won’t smoke in the loo. And ‘doesn’t give a shit’ can be truly discomforting in a sense far worse than sitting all day at work fully knowing my stomach is about to explode, with intermittent release of (in)digestive fumes that can induce temporary amnesia among colleagues, sometimes even coma.

If taking a couple of drags, can amicably persuade the snakes to let Mr.Pooper out like an avalanche, baby, trust me, I have slept with Angelina Jolie.
Ask anyone with a shut-up asshole. In the land of the constipated, Any Jolie comes way after the daily laxative. One deep drag of a king sized, releases enough endorphins making the brain happy enough to order the asshole to open up, and the day belongs to me, I know.

My love, by forbidding me from smoking in the loo, you are snatching away my fundamental right to expression……, if that big grin after a good session can be called one.
Millions like me suffer each day in this planet, silently fighting a grim battle each morning, to somewhat achieve sanity that is otherwise lost trying to stifle a ‘you-know-what’ all day.

Cigarettes are the penis of our Happy life., please don’t Bobb It!
Hope you understand?

Your Love

Shoot 'em, Stinky Pigs!

2005-11-27T22:06:00.000+05:30

Personal hygiene is something that most people still know nothing of. Their understanding level is turned down to “non-existent” when you try telling them with subtle innuendos. Its like trying to make an oyster understand Quantum Physics.

There are these guys who don’t wash up after a lunch that consist of a whole buffalo deep fried while it was still standing because “It will remove the taste of the food they ate!!”
Aaarrrgh!!! These are the kinds surgeons use sometimes when they run out of Anesthetics.

“Alright Jim, we are ready, you can tell him the joke now” …and…
“….I told you to make it short Jim, you gave him an overdose, Damn!”

Then there are these that have bad body odor that will come before the person arrives. There is this pretty thing in my office who has never heard of a concept called deodorant. On a good day, one can actually see the compost smelling fumes rising from the armpits racing randomly towards unsuspecting nostrils that sometimes induces even epilepsy. My job profile involves a lot of interaction with this person, who although being my sub-ordinate, finds me terribly scared of her. The truth is, I am indeed, but on a scale not many humans can fathom. My alarm indicator is set at, “Yyyeeeeeoooowwww” when our meetings draw close.

The final kinds are the ones that are exceptionally poor at laundry. Shirts and trousers with a whole civilization of advance, healthy, gun-toting microbes with harpoons to throw at passers by to expand their colonies. Sometimes they are bigger than microscopes and actually get down their hosts to do some shopping. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Dept of Defense and Biological Warfare conduct secret raids in their apartments while they are at work, taking spore samples to do researches to find new ways of attacking the enemy. Packing these guys off with their clothes to enemy territory would be a great idea, I say. Alongwith the above mentioned, ofcourse.
Wonder how their houses will be??

“Bob, how come you are washing your underwear, its not Christmas yet?”
“Darth, you see, if it were only the skid marks I would have waited, but there’s a whole colony of bacteria that has started making conversations with me, they even offered to pay rent!”

I urge the Constitution of India to adopt new legislations to make it mandatory for all to strictly follow basic human hygiene so as to not put his fellow being in discomfort.
Also, Guns should be legalized.

P.S: To all those Non-Indians who read this, the above is not a researched piece of evidence generalizing Indians about poor personal hygiene., but only a jestful tirade. Poor personal hygiene is found in sections of every society in every country and will continue to be found as long as every country in this world has citizens with a fully functioning nose on their faces. Visible Boogers are a different story altogether!

Laments Brings Fame and Fortune!

2005-11-21T22:40:00.001+05:30

oh the of man's tryst with his woman is as un-sayable/explicable as the missing word in the beginning of this sentence, unless you are in the mood for a (s)word fight in the bedroom.
when every man led a simple life of chips, beer and the TV remote., post marriage, his life turns into a constant mountaineering. gender equality is practised with him washing the dishes, cutting the vegetables, doing the bed and his bank account taking the most number of bills ensuring complete depletion before the 2nd week of every month in turn ensuring no dough is wasted (??) on booze or well, on himself!
there are a million men out there who are silently enduring such brutal assaults on their liberties and one such man who, managed to write down his experience in the form of a blog, has hit it big time with the British media.

an excerpt of this most exceptional narrative: (talking of arguments {with his woman called Margret})

Quote.....
Arguments. There are many arguments we have over arguments. 'Who started argument x', for example, is a old favourite that has not had its vigour dimmed by age nor its edge blunted through use. Another dependable companion is, 'I'm not arguing, I'm just talking - you're arguing,' along with its more stage-struck (in the sense that it relishes an audience - parties, visiting relatives, Parent's Evenings at school, in shops, etc.) sibling, 'Right, so we're going to get into this argument here are we?' An especially frequent argument argument, however, is the result of Margret NOT STICKING TO THE DAMN ARGUMENT, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. Margret jack-knifes from argument to argument, jigs direction randomly and erratically like a shoal of Argument Fish being followed by a Truth Shark. It's fearsomely difficult to land a blow because by the time you've let fly with the logic she's not there anymore. A row about vacuuming gets shifted to the cost of a computer upgrade, from there to who got up early with the kids most this week and then to the greater interest rates of German banks via the noisome sexual keenness of some former girlfriend, those-are-hair-scissors-don't-use-them-for-paper and, 'When was the last time you bought me flowers?' all in the space of about seven exchanges. 'Arrrrrrgggh! What are we arguing about? Can you just decide what it is and stick to it?'

Read More at: http://www.milmillington.com/
Unquote......

the sentence "Margret Jacknifes from argument..." is so biblically profound that you can replace 'Margret' with your choice and see the startlng revelation and the stark similarity of manly woes pervading the planet.

Gone are the days when domestic violence meant a women battered by her man., its the new beginning of the end, more like a male-only apocalypse where, males all over the world are persecuted, domestcaited and are silently enduring harsh realities inside their homes, longing for that beer and friends and dirty jokes, because at some point, at a weaker point, a word was extracted sealing his fate to the chores of gender equality which is sealed tighter if he, at a weaker point, were an accomplice in making babies.
Then suddenly, women start flying all over the place issuing draconian diktats, .......with brooms between their legs!

P.S: Those of you who think this is gender racism, well yes, please help us!

Darwin Award's Natural Selection.

2005-10-19T22:15:00.000+05:30

Darwin awards are given to those that improve the Human Gene Pool by effectively removing themselves in abundantly stupid ways. Posthumous as it generally is, we are in dire need of similar awards to honor those who do extra-ordinarily stupid things that do not “effectively” remove them from the Human Genome. As a result, we, the ones who work hard not to remain stupid, are in stark danger of being influenced with their acts and repercussions that may well stall the evolution we otherwise deserve.

Like this story of 2 prisoners who, in a bid to escape prison, holed their way out in an ‘almost fool-proof’ plan, until they were abruptly stopped by, no not the police, but the plumbing! Apparently these Einsteins were poor in their Theory of Relativity and hoped they could squeeze themselves out through the potty’s plumb lines!!!
Read the full story here.

In an other unrelated incident, which happened a few years ago, a whole nation along-with its cronies invaded another nation in pursuit of something that never existed because someone elsewhere carried out aerial attacks on it sitting in a nation that never was (atleast never had a chance) with the help of a neighboring nation that now miraculously is the closest ally!!!
Read the Full Story everyday in Newspapers.

Now we are in a real fix as to who the Non-Posthumous Darwin award should go to?
Can you help?

The Procrastinator - Part 1

2005-10-06T22:11:00.000+05:30

I am giving myself the crown of “The Laziest Bum” that walked on the face of this planet! I don’t see myself posting my honeymoon pics in Sikkim, why, I even haven’t uploaded the pics from my digicam onto my comp to free the space in the chip. Because of this, I missed to shoot a masterpiece that could have won me the Pulitzer for Photographic Journalism. It was a photo (to be) of a rickshaw puller (for those who are not familiar with a Rickshaw, it is a supersonic pulse jet that runs on the ground in some populous East Asian countries with always a man in front on an exer-cycle), who was lying on the road opposite a 5 star super deluxe Hotel that was recently banned from serving liquor, completely smashed out of his brains induced by alcohol with his leg raised from the ground to the rickshaw’s floor-board making his loose lungi (for those who are not familiar with a Lungi, it is a curtain around the male waist and mostly worn without under wears) flail in the air in reckless abandon showing the fauna it is meant to cover.

Damn!!!!!

Walked the Aisle.......

2005-09-19T14:35:00.000+05:30

This time I was not abducted by aliens., instead, I got married. I have willfully ditched my single-hood for life-long companionship. Single-hood means, having beer on a whim, now its having beer on the sly.

Since this was the first time I ever got married, I was a petrified bunch of nerves that HAD to keep smiling for 5 hours straight at total strangers who were in a mad rush to shake hands with us cuz the food might get over.
We had an Arya Samaj wedding, which meant, we had to sit in front of the fire until our faces turned black and our own parents couldn’t recognize us. Then the make-up man came running with a fire hose to remove soot from our faces and twice the bride was washed out of the hall before being safely fished out and planted firmly once again in front of the holy inferno. The make up man was given a tranquilizer dart later to prevent further drowning of very old and frail guests sitting in the front row, although some are still missing.

It all went well cuz we heard a chorus of belching while we, the newly weds, were still shaking hands with blokes who shook hands with the only intent of keeping us away from food. It felt like forever before we were led to the dining hall when the photographer jumped in from nowhere to start the foto session. A barrel of water was used to help us regain our consciousness, which went losing from time to time. Then the food was administered intra-venously before the video-shoot commenced. All my relatives who, were shopping for the last 24 years for my wedding, posed contently in their expensive clothing, which their respective husbands bought by robbing banks and selling their neighbor’s kidneys and are now breaking stones in various prisons.

All right, tirade stops here.

I got married on the 7th of September and it was an extremely happy occasion with the union of a large number of close relatives, friends and associates. Although the foto-sessions were a traumatic ordeal, it was worth it for memory in posterity.
We, my wife and I, left 2 days later for our honeymoon to Sikkim for seven days. This is an awesome place to go if you are a nature lover, which we both incidentally are, and will not be fair if I don’t dedicate a separate blog. This will happen shortly.

But for now, am back in the doldrums of drudgery, a cog in the money making wheel, a citizen of machine-ville, diligently ensuring my boss gets richer.

Practise what you Preach, Sir!

2005-09-03T09:49:00.000+05:30

Katrina wreaks havoc in New Orleans and opens up avenues for mass looting.
Prez Bush says “Looters will not be tolerated”, and issues orders to his troops to have ‘Zero Tolerance” against looters.

The first bullet went to his mouth!

Speak up, and get Dooced…..!!!

2005-08-29T23:20:00.000+05:30

Today, a reader alerted me to the term, “Dooce”. It means, getting fired because you wrote something incriminating about your employer in your blog site and the employer found out. My reader warned that I could be ‘dooced’, with what I have written in my previous post.

Apart from being thankful to her, I must say, I care less about endangering my job. Not because I can do without one, but because I cherish my freedom of speech and expression more. When a people has the right to criticize actions of an elected government under the auspices of the above-said civil liberty, I think its only fair for an employee to share the same right albeit in a micro level. Besides, I only do it in jest, and if I really meant it, I shouldn’t be working here anymore.

I guess that should take care of the prying eyes from potentially dangerous quarters!

HR Dept - Motto: Hire. Fire. Conspire.

2005-08-25T22:27:00.000+05:30

I work for a company that has an HR Dept, which is run by human sized weasels with brains the size of a molecule.

We are a mid size company specialized in making people fall off their chairs during working hours with rabid rules that is born faster than a dirty, perverted rodent out of a whole colony of randomly fornicating, naturally infidel, wall-munching, hole making, shoes nibbling, insolent bandicoots.
One such rule that has hit us lately is: “Do not use office emails to send and receive personal emails, all emails will be read by the HR before being delivered starting Aug’05”

If that doesn’t sound ludicrous to you, then you probably are a HR person yourself and are dabbling with similar ideas, which, in all probabilities will fetch you a big fat cheque, and by karmic laws, a 6mm bullet hole in your head.

The HR is turning out to be an epidemic, spreading out to all corporations of the world barking out their will in the form of company rules, such as, “Stop digging your nose, give me that booger!”

Similar draconian rules we are exposed to everyday are:

1. Half a day’s salary will be deducted even if you are a minute late.
2. “Don’t give me that excuse!”., “We’ll cut your salary, HAHAHA!”
3. Your Car / 2 wheeler will be checked before you leave because we frankly suspect you are scum.
4. Do not speak of other rival companies; it could cost you your job. Even thinking of it will cost you half a day’s salary.
5. Breaks during working hours: 11:15 to 11:30am / 1:15 to 1:45pm / 4:15 to 4:30pm only. Even a minute’s delay will entail half-a-day’s salary debit.
6. We will do everything to deduct tax from you promptly, we will also deduct a part of your salary every month to reimburse the same as your annual bonus – if you are lucky or if we are in the mood, then we may add 50% to the amount we deducted so far and remit to you as our sense of appreciation toward that limb you lost while working for us, and oh! We expect you to be happy, period!
7. Dog tags (aka ID), if not worn visibly on your person, will entail half-a-day’s salary, infact, we are even working on how to effectively prevent paying your salary at all.
8. “Mmmmyyyyyaaaahahhahahahaaaa……..
9. DON’T!!!!! (We’ll add more later)

If you think the above are mere exaggerations, I suggest you work here.
I have been breaking many rules all the time that I now come to work and pay back the company using my credit cards. I have run into a huge financial mess that I am seriously looking forward to a mail from the Nigerian gentleman who, seeks my help in parking his 30 million dollars that he inherited when his lover, also a Nigerian gentleman who was the dictator of Togo until he got killed by a bullet fired by an angry group of rebel water buffaloes that were fighting to revive democracy in the war-torn country.

Speaking of Togo, has anyone been there? If yes, why?
No, but seriously, you seen those water buffaloes? Will they shoot the HR guys??

Yaaawwwnnn!!!

2005-08-23T22:34:00.000+05:30

...forgive my absence, Dear readers, I was abducted by aliens!
They dropped me back saying I was a dangerous specimen after I physically harmed a few of them when I learnt Beer ran in their bodies instead of blood......

How big is BIG???

2005-07-04T22:16:00.000+05:30

Did you know that the size of our universe is about 15 billion light years?? If some of you don’t know what a light year is, it is the time taken for light to travel in a year. If you have no clue how fast light travels, consider this: the distance between Earth and the Sun is 149,597,892 kilometers, which the light covers in about 8 minutes. This means that, in a year, light travels about 6 trillion miles, which again means, 6 trillion x 15 billion = size of the universe. The speed of light is about 186,000 miles per second.

15 billion light years is what we humans have managed to see, ie, we have light source that is believed to be from 15 B light years away, the size could be bigger but we are only not capable of seeing it with our existing technology.
In our solar system, the Sun accounts for 99.87% of the mass while the planets together comprise a meager 0.05% and all the satellites and meteors and other space debris accounts for the rest.

Galaxies are enormous swarms of stars, dust, gas, and dark matter held together by gravity. The sun is one of about 100 billion stars in our own galaxy, called the Milky Way. If you think that’s incredible, imagine this: The Milky Way is just one of billions in the observable universe!
Most galaxies are found in clusters of about 150 galaxies, bound together by each other’s gravity. Our Milky Way is part of a small cluster of some 30 galaxies called the Local Group. Clusters of galaxies are often collected in superclusters. Our Local Group is part of the Virgo Supercluster, which contains several thousand galaxies
Galaxies range in size, containing anywhere from 100,000 to 3 trillion stars!

Phew!!! What in the world am I?

Hiatus Explained

2005-06-12T22:50:00.000+05:30

Almost 2 weeks have gone by since I had a concussion resulting in a temporary amnesia.
It happened when I was visiting my grandfather who, at the ripe age of 84, is so unbelievably active making me suspect he is an alien from a distant scum planet.

Why the vituperation?? Well, in the 80s, when I was a young, hot-blooded, adventurous, innocent schoolboy who, like most his age, liked to try out new hairstyles. In my very first attempt, when I had this funky hairstyle – however hideous that may be-, was ridiculed, blasted and castigated mercilessly to the point of self-annihilation (in simple words, suicide), by this senile geyser. I was paraded back to the barber’s, paraded with a stop at every neighbor’s house for a dose of ridicule by this vermin of a GF who, upon reaching the barber’s, asked my hair to be cut according to his specifications which was straight out of the lawn mowers guide to creeper buster.

Post the haircut, my head was photographed and archived which was later splashed in worldwide tabloids as unidentified crop circles. The trauma caused by peers, which lasted for almost 2 months, left a deep scab of anguish and contempt that could have turned me into a grandfather preying serial killer.
Now my GF has reached the twilight zone of his life and the only way he updates on his friends is by looking at the obituary column.

Coming back to our family re-union:
One evening when we (cousins) were all assembled for tea, we were partaking in a round of jokes, when our man crept from behind me and laughed hard at one of the jokes causing his ancient, saliva crusted dentures weighing closely to the mean mass of Jupiter, land on my head. The last thing I remembered was my mind switching off like a TV when the power goes out.
My doctors say that the impact was so huge, that the resultant shock waves were felt as far away as Mongolia where a bunch of farmers after eating a banana, kept the peel and threw themselves out.

This is how I lost my way to my blog site, dear readers, which I now wish to correct and update regularly with more mindless tirades. Now that the dust has more or less settled, and my memory more or less regained, I kind of figured finally that underwear is not to be worn on the forehead.

Meanwhile, reliable reports from my relatives say that my GF has refused to discard his dentures which, still carries a piece of my scalp with a bunch of long hairs sticking out his mouth, making him look like an alien from a stupid planet called “HairyMoose’sBollocks”

Am Back with a Vengeance!!!!

News From The Future:

2005-05-25T21:13:00.000+05:30

First Olympics in Moon Goes Awry.

In Detail:
61 athletes from 23 countries are missing in action. They never landed after participating in their respective sporting events such as, High Jump, Long Jump and Pole Vault. Hubble space telescope has picked up 14 of them orbiting Jupiter while the rest have turned into space debris, it is believed.

Meanwhile at Earth, fishermen in Alaska lost their front rows of tooth when mysterious objects that looked like shot puts and discus crashed into them from the skies, apparently.

That apart, tension in the Middle East rose to unprecedented levels when 3 javelins killed 2 goats and one potential suicide bomber while they were reportedly having a threesome. The Hamas blamed the Israelis for initiating unprovoked violence and has vowed to take revenge, while the Mossad has secretly convened an emergency meeting with security heads and the CIA, at an undisclosed location, to laugh their heads off.

Equestrian Horses refused to come down after prancing and its riders are still suspended in comical animation.

In an interesting move, for the first time in Human history in a daring effort, the Pakistani Hockey team was tied around a few ballistic missiles (made in China) and launched to the Moon to participate, which was promptly shot down by the Indian Armed Forces. This has dramatically increased India’s chances of winning the Olympics Gold in this event, but hey wait a minute, where’s the team?
Just received news confirms that flatulence has caused the Indian team to self propel uncontrollably into space into an inevitable collision course with basically nothing and the Indian government seemed to be relieved.

Meanwhile, generally, alien abductions seem to be on the rise worldwide. In Thailand, aliens are sold as tourist souvenirs and sometimes even as replacement for chicken meat.
This has angered the Alien community, which was hitherto in hiding, which came out in the open to protest, which resulted in mass abductions by booty hunters, zoo keepers, museum managers and bowling alley owners.
The UN in a strong reaction to this bizarre incident has released a stronger press release that said, “HAHAHA, those dumb aliens!!!”

Finally, the weather report was completely replaced with 3 days of non-stop TV commercials, which by the way, is the current craze among the Americans.
Hollywood has stopped producing full-length 2hr movies and instead are releasing movies in 15 second commercials over months on end.

All right, I shall end this mindless babble right now, don’t run, please come back!!

Aaarrrrggghhhh!!!!!!!!!

2005-05-24T20:21:00.000+05:30

That pretty much sums up how I feel right now after getting back to the doldrums of drudgery from 5 days of unstoppable partying in Kerala for my sister’s wedding.

Good food, awesome Toddy, 24 hr liquor diet, absolutely hilarious cousins, amazing landscape, scorching heat but rather coolish in the coconut lagoon where we had toddy with freshly caught fish and chilli pepper fried mussels with tapioca and raging hot fish curry……… no emails, no deadlines, no production problems, no bosses, no phone calls, no road rage, no assholes…. Just raw, unrivalled happiness and joy.

Compare that to now. The jerk who parked his car behind mine in my apartment’s parking lot this morning, went out with the keys resulting in my late entry at work. Then the usual brinjal-brained pedestrians and fellow road users and then finally at work, 957 unread emails!!!!!!!! That’s right, 957 FRIGGIN UNREAD EMAILS!!!!!!!!!

Aaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.......

My Lord and Google.

2005-05-24T17:55:00.000+05:30

Its taken me about 25 years and an American web based search engine to figure out the history of the Lord I most devoutly worship.

Being a Hindu with my roots entrenched in North Malabar Kerala, Parassini Kadavu Muthappan has been my savior and guide all along my life. He has heard all my prayers and has been a strong influence in everything I ever did since my first memory.
So far, none in my family and friends back in Kerala could offer a satisfactory explanation of the legend that is Lord Muthappan, until now.

This is not an evangelistic preach but an ode to the advancement in technology and the pleasant strangeness in finding out about a very local tradition steeped in mythology and reverence via a medium called Internet and its most popular search engine called Google.

The experience is overwhelming and is akin to the magic lamp where all one has to do is, type the word of what you are looking for, and lo and behold without the huff and puff of a genie, the algorithms churn out exactly what you are looking for in no time.

I would truly be less than half as knowledgeable as I am now without Google.
I am the new age Alladin and Google is my magic lamp. I have the power, just like the millions I share this lamp with.

Click “here” if you wish to know what I learnt about Lord Muthappan.

Its Greener and a lot more Hairier on the other side....

2005-05-15T22:10:00.000+05:30

I have a lot of friends in the advertising industry. They are all creative geniuses with such visibly pronounced qualities such as, unkempt hair, unshaven face, remnants of shampoo foam fashionably and creatively sticking out of their nostrils and 23 kilos of ear rings in one ear while the other just got amputated because a family of spotted owls nested in it for over 14 years which made it difficult to legally evict them.

That aside, their work (not the owls) is what makes them such remarkably outstanding creative persons. Being in the glamour industry, they get to write lines and visualize graphic details for big multi-national brands and form clever strategies for positioning them to increase their marketability. Then they sell, in other words, convince their clients who by the way, are a bunch of educated morons in tweed jackets with a lot of money insisting with all their worldly wisdom that, the Ad guys are a bunch of armpit smelling, incompetent nincompoops, who try to rob by giving outrageous advertisement ideas in the name of creativity that, anyone could have thought of by simply sitting in the loo.

I don’t mean to underestimate these people, I have personally seen a few outstanding work that are hallmarks of creativity. I even admit that most of the times their original ideas are tweaked so much by the clients that the ideas get transformed into a different animal altogether simply because, the client had a terrible fight with his wife that morning, as a result of which he has a bump in the head the size of a blue whale. This causes the client to do the whale song while you bring up the Ad budget.

So you might now ask what my point is?? Well, my point is, basically, does life exist on Mars?? If yes, why?
But actually, my point is, inspite of being in the fashion industry where we make Apparels for many big labels worldwide, my job is horribly mundane, cuz I need to comb my hair everyday and cannot sleep at work on the pretext of creative thinking.
Therefore, if I were in advertising, I would go to work straight out of my bath, with my toothbrush still sticking out of my mouth (occasionally spraying out foam on fellow creative geniuses while explaining some serious creative blip) and thus be considered enormously cool and creative. (HI SHHANDY, OOPS SHORRY….WELL, SAME TO YOU…..!!!)
I would start a trend, cuz I already know fashion!!

Also, I would come up with extra-ordinarily talented ideas that clients will find extremely hard to refuse or tweak such as, a double-barreled shotgun.

Hi There! Who are you??

2005-05-13T22:24:00.000+05:30

Consider this: when you are not home, strangers visit your place, look around and leave, some come back regularly but some come by accident, even some trespass, but nobody leaves a trail or a hint or a message. And all this you are aware of, but can do nothing about. Good feeling?? Think not.

This website is my virtual home. And this message is for all you nice people to show me a sign you were here, better still, share your opinion and comment. Regular visitors will get a cake on your birthday, no matter which corner of the world you are in. (Ofcourse, am kidding, what do you think?)… no but really, I would love to know if there are any one out there that visit my blog regularly?? Am a very sociable person and have absolutely no traits of a serial killer, nor will I invite you home and store you up in my refrigerator and No, am not linked to any terrorist group.

Am a very nice person that, very rarely, say thrice a month, send unruly pedestrians in groups, to where they belong – between my tire grooves. I know what you are thinking, “Hey, what tire is this guy using?”

So people, next time you come here, be nice and drop a line. There’s no more joy than making new friends without boundaries.
Thankyou.

Honeymoon......... Excavated!!!

2005-05-10T22:12:00.000+05:30

All right. As I set out yesterday, here’s the etymology for the word “Honeymoon”.
It all started during some king’s rule in some 340 AD in some North European place which was not part of EU then, which is besides the point. The actual point is, men during these pre-medieval times, abducted their women of choice, with help from their friends who, never revealed the whereabouts even if their genitals were manually bitten off, until the abductee got pregnant and/or her parents gave up the search. So apparently, during the abduction, the man and woman drank a lot of honeyed wine under the moon, and got blown beyond their rockers to copulate, sometimes, with rabbits.

This went on for some time, and unlike now, parents then weren’t too impressed with the word ‘Honeymoon’, it had the same sound effect as the word Gonorrhea.
So one day they got tired of this non-sense and blatant violation of civility, which by the way was in draft form then, decided to march to their King Atilla to lodge a formal protest. So when they arrived at the gates of King Atilla, surprise surprise, he had just abducted his 546th wife and was getting drunk in the French Riviera, which was then only known as Riviera de Francaise Incognito.

What I don’t understand however is, did the chicks of those times just let themselves be abducted?? Didn’t they object, flail their arms and kick the air while being carried away?? Could the mother be abducted if she were pretty??
Well whatever, these guys did seem to have a whale of a time under this cool dude of a King, without ever realizing they were in the process of creating history by coining the word “Hjunottsmanathr”
Aka, “Honeymoon”.

And yes, they didn’t drink exactly under the moon all the time, folks those days didn’t have Mtv and were pretty much coy about public sexuality. The moon’s interpretation came from some jealous, loser of a moron who never got a chic, gave a cynical explanation saying, “just as a moon wanes and waxes out, the thrill of a newly wed does too”. He was later shot in the stomach., but the explanation slipped through history somehow.

Ofcourse, there are other renditions to the etymology, written by complete jerks who never got married and didn’t party in all their nerdy lives. Hence I stuck with this one, also because, it appealed to me.

So ladies and Gentlemen, that’s how honeymoon came into being. And if you are wondering why the abduction part got lost in history, its because, lethal, non-electric, nutcracker was invented soon after.

Cant find it? Google it – you’ll never find it………!!!

2005-05-08T22:47:00.000+05:30

So the date is September 7th 2005, when I, like millions of men before me over thousands of years, will be married. And like millions of men before me, I too have to plan for my honeymoon but, unlike millions of men before me, I have proposed to do something unique for my honeymoon such as, find the etymology of the word.

Even about 10 years earlier, if one had to look for the origin of any word, he (assuming one is a male) had to go to a library 5 kms away from home, look for the book section among the many labyrinthine of shelves, and finally, see that cute girl who can’t reach for the book which makes you offer your services as a human ladder and forget all about the work you came for. Then you want to take her out for a coffee and then maybe a movie and then to the disco and then to the apartment and then you realize you are in love and decide to get married and fix a date and plan for the honeymoon, when holy shit of the laughing cow in heaven you realize, you haven’t found the etymology of the word ‘honeymoon’ yet and your previous fiancée is hunting for you with a lethal, electric nut cracker!!!

But now, life is much simpler with a 6 letter word called “Google” and you hit upon mogazillion links for the search offering etymology, meaning, honeymoon packages, airfare, porno and a Chinese tarot card reading women named honey moon (Chinese for egg noodles). All this at the comforts of your armchair and a muscle of your finger.

So combining the above technique and the muscle, I went to google and searched for the etymology of …… well its unique once again, cuz no man dead or alive I know has ever done this while planning for honeymoon, the word "Google"

Here’s what I found: In 1940, a mathematician named Edward Kasner, while being extremely annoyed that his mathematician predecessors had discovered all there is to discover, drank too much beer because the girls found him to be a booger eating nerd, spent most of his time babysitting his 9 year old nephew – Milton Sirotta, who, like most 9 year old, was evil.

One day, after shooting a tranquilizer dart at Milton, Kasner went about his reams of research papers, in which were lots of zeroes. He knew he was at the verge of a cutting edge discovery, when in one quick reflex action, shot another dart at the kid who was showing signs of awakening. In a flash of intellectual creativity that followed, he decided to give life to the 100 zeroes he had by putting, believe it or not, the digit 1 in front. Like all math geniuses, he too was bad in English, and didn’t know what to name this new outrageously big number with the impressive number of zeroes that would some day save human civilization from running out of numbers. So he carried his stoned nephew and put him in a tub full of ice water and then inserted a live hair-dryer, and the resulting gurgle effect Milton made while trying to stop his balls from exploding, Mr.Kasner found his word. Googol.

So you ask, but the website is Google?? That’s right, he discovered Googol alright, but got the spelling wrong, which approximately 58 years later, a guy named Larry Page, corrected apart from founding a company in the same name, who I, with info from reliable sources, suspect is the nephew who googled in Kasner’s tub!!

I am an avid user of Google that I have now forgotten referencing at the library, and with some new advanced tricks to streamline my search, I manage to get exactly what I’m looking for, and sometimes more, that I forget what I was looking for in the 1st place!
Hey waitaminute, did I start with some thing to do with honey, meads and lunar calender?? Hey, how did I get here and wh…..what the HELL IS THAT?? HELP! AARRRGHHH!!!! (Electric Nut Cracker hurts!)

Show me the finger, ladies??!!

2005-05-01T22:14:00.000+05:30

Males apparently are a defective lot. They, unlike the fairer sex, cannot put a lid on their excitement. This is why, most males around the world, while attending a crucial sports event, in their feverish excitement, will hoist their neighbor high up in the air and wave like they were a banner, or a country’s flag, or worse, launch them as missiles. I am a male, I am civil, I hate sports, I drink beer and so I smoke into other people’s ears.

Now that it is an established fact, that most males are genetically defective, that causes us to drink too much beer, watch only sports channels, eat junk food, fight extreme tendencies to kill fellow motorists/pedestrians, won’t ask for directions and shoot fountains of drool at the next visible hottest chic, we are not responsible for the mistakes we commit, it’s the damn genes, you know!

Being at the receiving end of divine mis-creation, all we ask for, from our fellow species, is tolerance toward the mistakes our genes compel us to commit and, to embrace us as we are with open arms wearing Victoria’s Secret satin negligee and/or pink thongs.

Now that we have reached an understanding about the unfair male genetic aberration, lets look at women. “Hey no Duke, I didn’t mean stare, suck that 100 ft drool back in!!”
With all these male bashing theories, if you thought Women are the perfect creation, you have been drinking too much beer!

According to this report, women whose index fingers are shorter than their ring fingers, indulge in casual sex. This is because only males are supposed to have this physical trait, which is a direct manifestation of our rogue gene, which triggers the restless urge amongst us helpless malekind to spread our gene pool far and wide, resulting in the pool to grow into a lake and then a raging ocean, resulting in over population which again results in people, sometime in groups, falling off the planet when it turns on its axis.
And I am digressing……….

The researcher, who is also a disgruntled helpless affected male, also goes on to say, that the strongest indicator of casual sex, is the amount spent on alcohol. The more you spend, the more population to tackle. So basically, a woman with short index fingers, and holding a mug of beer and is too inebriated to find her mouth, is probably Xena. Watch out, she can hoist you high up in the air, and the next thing you know is, you are in orbit with the hubble space telescope.

But that apart, men with all their shortcomings are forever creative to overcome their evolutionary mishap. We have drank that beer, ate that junkiest food, slunked in the couch all day watching our sport, been thankful for all the one night stands and simultaneously researched and concluded that we have a faulty gene to blame.

How else can you describe the creative genius of the guy who researched the above find using all the girls in his college as specimen???
That Bastard!

Happy returns........

2005-04-26T07:11:00.000+05:30

It’s the birthday again. As the years pass you by, the candles in the cake staggers up to a point where people eat more melted wax than the cake. Then the excuse for drinking (and getting wasted) unfolds. People gather up with last minute gifts with a determined intent of group drinking, and would expect outrageous quantities of alcohol and fried forms of meat and all that fatty stuff, against the total quantified value of their gifts. Some of the fresh, most active memory cells are burned with this info, and is kept at the most accessible slot in the brain stack, that it flashes from time to time like the Viagra Ads on a theological website. This is how you get what you deserve. This is the cycle of life.

Never mind the tirade above. I don’t belong to the gift mongering claptrap plebeians. Where I belong is, a place in a haze, with lots of like minded patrons of ear-shattering music that becomes inaudible as the contents of the glasses we hold, gets emptied in quick successions whilst indulging in good food and bitching about George Bush. Then we realize the futility talking about the world’s most powerful idiot, and so move on to more productive topics such as, radioactive red raging garden ants with nuclear spittle.

Then we grudgingly pay the cops what his mood demands before getting back home with absolutely no human recollection of driving back. This is the dangerous part, drunken driving can kill, especially when you try to relieve yourself by the strange looking dead tree stump, and 24000 Volts of unbridled raw electricity passes through your most important jewelry, jolting the living daylights of those sleeping brain cells with every atom of your metaphysical state, snuffing up all the power in the neighborhood.
Scary, huh?

Reason why I just stayed home and had an insignificant singular beer fighting infinite urges to grab the car keys and rush out that door of pent up alcoholic emotions.

The storm has passed I have prevailed. Those guys up there in long, flowing white robes, doing mission control on me and you, shot up from their chairs in cheer and gave the ovation.

HAH! What better deserving occasion than this to call for a drink!!!!!!!

Saudi Slaughterabia

2005-04-20T22:36:00.000+05:30

Pakkar Mohd, who runs a small Tea shop in North Kerala, borrowed Rs.30,000 from his friends to send his son – Ittiparambil Shahjahan (married), to Saudi Arabia as a manual laborer for a salary of Rs.12,000 (US$.272 Approx) per month, so that the family of 10, mostly children, could ease from their existing hardship.

Shahjahan, who has never been abroad, bids farewell to his wife and folks with hopes of alleviating the abysmal living conditions his family lived under. He packs off with this little dream and goes to Chennai, to board the flight to Damman.

His agent gives him a pair of trousers and shoes for the flight to freedom. Upon landing at Damman, Saudi Arabia, he is caught by the local police for possession of 550 gms of Brown Sugar concealed in his shoes. Obviously, he had no clue prior to this about the lethal baggage he unwittingly wore. He, in his simple mind, had profusely thanked the agent before leaving India and was truly obliged for the favor his agent rendered.

Meanwhile at home, his family was eager to hear from him, about the flight, about the new place, and of course to be re-assured that all was well.

Shahjahan had no clue what was in store for him. Saudi rules state beheading of those who are involved in Murder, Rape and Drug Trafficking. And without trial.

All attempts to free him by the Indian High Commission in Saudi as well as the Human Rights Commission, failed.

He called his wife for the first and last time, to tells her, “Pray for me, I will be killed in a few hours”
He is executed, beheaded to be precise. Without a free trial or investigation, the primitive shariya law was implemented. An innocent man, brought to an end with the haste of chronic civilizational Deficiency.

If you thought the above was a sordid story I spun, please click on the header to go to the news link.

I am outraged beyond human endurance, and am seething with rage after reading about an innocent man being murdered by a foreign state. What kind of country would award the capital punishment (a very subhuman one at that), without a free trial?? What kind of judiciary do those, inhuman, merciless, savage, radical, rascals follow?

Apparently after the execution, in an intra-govt release, the Saudi authorities agreed that Shahjahan was indeed innocent and was merely a carrier.

What causes a whole nation to malfunction this way?? ..,a whole population to shy away from change and continue to dwell in ancient barbarism??

Saudis have extended their cruelty by not returning the mortal remains of Shahjahan to his badly shaken family in India.

Attack of the yak-yak verbal virus!!!

2005-04-17T22:14:00.000+05:30

I have been going through a lot of bad times these days. Bad times are those that deluge your life at the most inappropriate times and keep sticking out more of its friends and cousins in all size and shapes and forms and hues just to ensure you go the whole mile.
To explain, I woke up this Sunday morning (which is very rare) with a clear head (which until now, was thought to be extinct)., with a lot of chores lined up for me to finish.

So off I set out for chore #1, which was, you wouldn’t believe it, getting out of bed without stepping on my sister’s neck.
No actually, my chore # 1 was going to the railway station to book tickets for our family’s Kerala trip to attend my sister’s wedding. So with great difficulty I convinced myself it was going to be fun. After traversing the 4 Kms to the booking office, and after a considerably pleasant drive, killing at least 43 pedestrians, 16 dogs, 8 cows and a cop, all of whom appeared to have been taken by surprise, that this car was not going to stop and this time their luck had run out!

I finally reached the booking office only to find the whole city there in a mad rush to book tickets to all sorts of places, which meant, I would have to wait in line for approximately my great grandson to be formed in the genitals of my grand son.
Yes, I could have asked my travel agent to do this grunt job., but the sleviathan hoogaboogoo (welsh for motherfuckers), turn into money sucking vampires during this season and will hurl all sorts of alternative choices that will lead you to jail for 1st degree murder. So my choice was, either go to jail or bring my car into the booking office.

Chore #2, was to go for my haircut, which I have been putting off for so long that I now resembled a Himalayan dope-smoking, nirvana seeking, mountain dwelling, goat-raping, 275 year old yogi, who was also a sleviathan hoogaboogoo.
At the barbers was no respite either, there were so many much older yogis that looked like they were forcibly pulled out of their graves, with hair like that of a colony of sea anemones, that could be better off burned than trimmed.

Post this came the biggest ordeal via a friend who is a die hard fan of South India’s biggest superstar – Rajnikant, who was threatening to immolate himself (not Rajnikant) if we didn’t oblige to go for the superstar’s latest flick – “Chandramukhi”… we obliged to preserve this piece of work from going up in flames. (Most who are common to us, will know what I mean)

So we went to this theatre in the ‘burbs., where a lot of cattle in the form of human beings come for entertainment. The theatre was on a high voltage frenzy, honestly, I have never seen such mass adulation from such a large number of fans, whose collective intelligence when compared with the door-knob, will make the door-knob look like Einstein.
A Rajni movie here gets a whole battery of people re-charged at the end of it, especially since this one released after a 3 year hiatus, had a multifold increase in dosage, resulting in souped up, turbo charged, radio-active, sleviathan hoogaboogoos.
My friend being one of them, actually gathered up enough courage and the audacity to ask us to pay for the tickets he booked for the movie he threatened us to watch!!!!!

To confess, I have nothing against Rajnikant or his fans., I am personally a great admirer of his movies and have watched a lot of it and even loved some. But since I also confessed right in the beginning that I am going through a really bad time, I don’t want to get beaten up by angry mobs of 'whats-that-welsh-word' for my mindless babble.
I still haven’t transmitted my great-grandson-making genes.

No but seriously, Hail Rajnikant, the undisputed, larger-than-life icon of my most beloved city!!!!!

...phew!!!

Resolving Kashmir issue.......

2005-04-12T22:44:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, I went to this restaurant near my office for lunch., since for some reason, my office lunch rule states, “Shoot the late comers”., I was in a terrible hurry. There’s even a hall of 'game' in our lobby with the heads of victims hanging from the wall looking very surprised, apparently shot from the back while trying to flee. Don’t know what the moose did to be there, though!

So I placed my order and ended up having all the time to solve all the world’s crisis., no not that one, but most of it.

I read an old mag, old because the stains of slammed cockroaches and remnants of some mosquito parts had to be scratched out from entire paragraphs in order to continue reading, and I caught up with an interesting article.

Apparently there was this congregation of actors, directors, musicians and journalists from across the borders meeting up at the Indo-Pak border to exchange pleasantries, and organize shows in both countries to encourage cross-border brotherhood. This program was sponsored, aided and abetted by both govts, and there was frenzy in the air.

I heaved a sigh of relief, cuz a reprieve was born to civilians, who were the usual victims of terrorist attacks in the valley and elsewhere.
Thanks to the discovery of the common enemy.

Monday Morning Blues and Crack

2005-04-11T13:38:00.000+05:30

Its Monday morning, weathers gray and the mood blue. Am sitting in front of my computer and gazing at it like a baffled child. My boss walks by and stops by my digs, and I think he said, “Susheel, it’s a beautiful day, why don’t you buy yourself some beer and drive off, of course its all paid!”

“Whoa, thanx very much sir, but if I have a hangover, can I take off tomorrow as well??”

“Why ofcourse, you can take the whole week off and perhaps take a cruise to the Bahamas at my cost, what’d you say??”

“God Almighty Jesus Holy Christ the son of Virgin Mary born in a barn with 3 wise cracks from around the world., are you for real??!!”

“Absolutely amigo, I’ll even throw in some supermodels if you like and book the prez suite aboard the Queen Liz, with all frills attached.., whattasay?”

“You are the genie outta that friggin old lamp in those stories brother, how about some change to blow on the trip, y’know, its kinda expensive out there and you haven’t given me a raise since I caught you pants down with your secy 3 weeks ago..??”

Wishes, hallucinations, dreams, fantasies etc are all by-products of crack.
I Just got one on my head for hearing my boss wrong!!!

Do unto others what others do unto you... also use a sledgehammer!

2005-03-31T22:40:00.000+05:30

There’s this guy who annoys everyone at work with his remarks on butt sizes. To conceal identity, let’s call him ‘Buttman’.
My grandma used to say, “Those who don’t move their asses, end up having oversized ones” He is the living testimony to her theory.

I have friends who, by God’s oversight, were completely bereft of this appendage. When they get up from the couch, they leave something like 2 pugmarks instead of a whole depression. This is very embarrassing, and I have replaced all couches with wooden stools.

As for Buttman, he sits on his chair all day long, so that his freight-truck sized butt can grow bigger and can be seen from space! If he ever jogs, he need those red reflector spots stuck up his wazoo, so fellow joggers behind him will know to keep distance.
Imagine a small face, medium sized body and a humungous ass. Its like what you get when Oldsmobile gang-rapes Mickey mouse!!

Sorry about my flagrant invective., but he dared comment on my normal rear-side!
This is as best space as I can offer in the context., now, got to ensure he reads this and watches his trap next time around.

Heeeehaaaaww………

2005-03-30T22:03:00.000+05:30

I can swear this didn't happen in Hell!!! Whattasay, boys??

Yoshi’s 'Deep Love'

2005-03-29T23:07:00.000+05:30

Japan is a land of eccentric technology addicts. Everything in Japan is scientifically advanced compared to any other part of the world, especially Africa. In Africa, the best use for internet is to send mails to hare brained internet users of the world asking them for parking space in their bank accounts for millions of dollars left by dead weasels.

Back to Japan. They have toilets that have brains to flush out by itself, robots that does the salsa and people that make and use them. Mobile telephony is so advanced that we look like from the stone ages. With such behemoth advancements, one seem to conclude that, perhaps they are a country of nerds and completely lack in any art forms. HAHAHA!!!

Well, apparently not! They write instruction manuals for Sony, Toyota, Panasonic, Mitsubishi etc… and in atleast 6 languages!

Banter aside, Japs have now invented mobile novels! Yes, the bloke who calls himself ‘Yoshi’., started writing on a cell phone site he started in the year 2000, when he probably got sacked by his employer for publicly digging his nose and not using the ‘patented booger-buster – “Boo-Ga-Zooka”’ technology his company invented.
He started writing ‘Deep-Love’ as a serial story, and got the subscribers to pay for it as they read it. And now, he is the Sydney Sheldon of Japan with a fan following that includes robots, among others. His story is so popular, with huge youth appeal, that he ended up making his story into celluloid, which also became a run-away hit! …..and lady luck continued to stalk him to unprecedented celebrity levels, that he now has a TV serial in the pipeline and already owns the ‘manga’ (Jap for comic) version.

The power to keep altering the story line based on reader feedback via instant messaging, is an awesome tool for any author. You may even wonder how much content at one time can one read on a cell phone. As the screens get larger and at any given time about 4 generations ahead of us in terms of mobile technology, along with simple, scrollable java text, a Kurosawa reaps the benefits of tomorrows technology what a Kumaraswamy helped make. If you are not the type that appreciates SMS, then you are the type I shouldn’t be telling this to. The rest of us techno creed, with some inclination toward reading, this is something that we can eagerly wait to hit India, until then, download that stupid ringtone and be happy.

The next time you see a Jap gaping at his/her mobily, you can be sure he’s watching a cartoon version of Deep Love or maybe, he is communicating with the aliens!
Perhaps there are a few things we must learn from the Japs…., you could start by digging your nose for one!!!!!

(to read the news content of Yoshi’s success, click the title)

Walk the aisle.....

2005-03-23T21:55:00.000+05:30

Marriage is lurking around the corner. Sep or Oct around. Strangely, no butterflies in my stomach instead, a serene calm has descended in my life. A storm in waiting??

Perhaps, it’s the sign of good times ahead. With all the ball-breaking, nut-cracking wild indulgences coming to an end, Sundays will no longer be seen in the afternoons with a pounding head, instead, I might be at the grocer’s at 7 am, scratching my butt and yawning like a disoriented nincompoop. I can be precise at guessing the cost for a round trip to London, but I have no clue how much a cauliflower costs?? I will be seriously domesticated, and yet, I have no flashes of trepidation!! Perhaps it’s the culmination of 7 years of courtship that’s depriving me the second thoughts, or maybe because I know her too well to fear a drastic change that might be upsetting.

Having said this, I must add that men the world over, have been more creative in nay saying marriages than have truly appreciated it. Guess it’s the fear of choking out choice that these people remain unmarried. Someone so eloquently once said, “It isn't tying himself to one woman that a man dreads when he thinks of marrying, it's separating himself from all the others.”
8 out of 10 people I know who willfully remain bachelors attribute the above reason, although you can never catch them confessing this. But it’s the mind over ‘matter’ that has no control… if you know what I mean??

To get married is somehow the most confident venture mankind has shown no fear of failure, yet it is the most complicated setup of adjustments between two people to coexist mainly for more often than not, to leave a progeny behind. In between, all is incidental.
I believe in marriages, as billions of successful ancestors have, for a billion flies cant be wrong sitting on shit all day!!!

Bloody Shame!!!!!

2005-03-21T21:48:00.000+05:30

I am absolutely outraged with the acquittal of both the prime accused in the Kanishka bombing case, by a Canadian court. Ripudaman Singh Malik and Ajaib Singh Bagri, the prime accused, although not proven guilty, were the only suspects to be tried as the masterminds behind the bombing that killed over 180 people, mostly Indians.

This brings 2 main questions to my mind:
1. If it weren’t them, then who?? And were they held suspects
with not an iota of truth??
2. Can India ever extradite persons that were instrumental in
causing mass loss of Indian lives or damage to Indian Assets
worldwide??

I feel like a weakling with my nationality, when seated powers in my country turn ignorant to such important matters and indulge in petty politics. I mean, just what the hell are they doing calling themselves the elected majority, when the majority of the elected don’t even know if Kanishka is a plane or a place!! How can I expect my country to force its will on another when we have leaders holding important portfolios with an IQ level similar to that of a cow, elected by an electorate with the same bovine intellect.

Compare this:
On May 11, 1960 at 8:05pm, four Mossad agents abducted German citizen Ricardo Klement from a bus stop in Buenos Aires. He was shoved into a waiting car, his hands and feet tied together, and was blindfolded and gagged. The commandos then warned their captive: "If you don't keep still, you'll be shot." Forty five minutes later, they arrived at the safehouse, where they confirmed his identity with WW-2 records as, “Adolf Eichmann” – the mastermind behind Auschwitz and a senior Gestapo colonel.

You might now wonder how the extradition happened. Well, there was no extradtion. The Mossad drugged him and faked papers making him a crew of the Israeli El-Al airlines, and took him to Tel-Aviv direct, with minimal fanfare. When news of his capture was made public by the Israelis to commence prosecution, Argentina was outraged and ordered immediate repatriation. Israeli’s sent them a pineapple and asked them to fuck with it.

Legal proceedings started the same year as the verdict to hang him to death was given – even a choice was given to him between trial or summary execution!! This was the 1st televised courtroom trial and hence the 1st live reality show.
He was subsequently awarded the capital punishment and his ashes thrown in the Mediterranean sea just outside Israeli territorial waters.

Now that’s what I call balls! Nevermind the fact Eichmann was a war criminal and that he was directly or indirectly responsible for over 4mn Jewish deaths. Nevermind the fact that Israel still is an aggressive nation against its perpetrators, and will go any lengths to do unto others what others do unto them. The star of David still is a formidable enemy to those on its wrong sides, and no matter how questionable their actions are, they stand for their own making their own seem above all else.

I am not saying India be as aggressive as the Israelis., but atleast don’t be a joke when you ask other countries to extradite your criminals to be brought to justice, so that the bereaving family of those victims find some solace and the nation as a whole, feel a sense of pride and dignity instilled in them simply by how the country fared in its judiciary and how the other country conceded to our pressure.

So now what happens to the Kanishka case?? Is it closed for want of suspects, since it is already closed for want of proof to indict the captured suspects? Where are our sleuths and where is the respect for the largest democracy of the world?? And above all, where is the justice to those slain onboard that fateful flight??
Is any lawmaker in this country listening???

2005-03-16T22:11:00.000+05:30

Sometimes, the profundity of cartoons amazes me!

The Journey of Taste - Walkman Whiskey (hic)!!!

2005-02-25T17:24:00.000+05:30

Kuki, Vjn, Naveen and I were invited to this whiskey tasting event at The Park.
The Brand: Johnnie Walker. The Mood: Hoity Toity. The Event: Not much free booze.

Apparently whiskey connoisseurs are those who have a nose with remarkable sniffing ability. They can sniff any whiskey and say, “Whoa., this is speyside, born out of a sherry cask from Spain, approximately 17-19 years matured in Scotland and is rich fruit flavored with a tinge of….”

“rite Humphrey,” the barman interrupts, “time to go home, pay the bill ye bampot fishmonger!!”

JW-Black label is a blend of 40 malt and grain whiskey brewed from all corners of Scotland, and is a premium whiskey because of the high price. Its so frightfully expensive that you order it only for special occasions, such as your friends birthday and he’s paying the bill. Apparently there are some etiquettes you need to observe while consuming this premium brand, which is the reason for this event.

So here we were sitting by the snooty table, with a bunch of people who, at some point in their life, drank hootch until some of their friends either lost their eyes or started making hootch or are in jail.
And then one of their friends, who moved to bigger things in life, and started drinking McDowell’s, or in times of penury, drank Monitor, got a group invitation to the event.

I don’t mean to undermine those present at the event, but because I got pissed they did not shut the cell phones off. I will take on these social outcasts later, who lack the basic minimum decency to respect silence during presentations. But I am digressing…

Coming to the etiquettes of fine drinking…..
Just wondering how many of us, while at the bar say, “Hmmm, this is bitter-sweet bitter-sweet, taste of apricot and pine with a smokey woody spicy burst at the palate and a smooth tingly trail down the throat…, its gotta be mmm Johnnie Walker black label or perhaps eerrr., Bushmills Irish…???”
Imagine your friends’ reaction, who, ever since you gave up the feeding bottle, drank with you all sorts of putrid intoxicating nash that has made you all collective accomplices of drunken debauchery…,

“(Hic), what was that..?? just 13 shots down and you thi ..hic.. nk you are a conn err coonosir.. hic.??” “…brother dude, can you (hic), stop drinking sauce…..(hic)?!!”

Well whatever. We enjoyed the tuition at The Park, tasted those miserably small teasers of fine Scotch whiskey and took the first step toward alcoholic snobbery.
But when its time to hit the booze button with dudes here., its only open, pour and glug glug glug…..
“escoooz me, some water pleeees, bbuuuurrrrrrp!”

after so long.......

2005-02-02T22:19:00.000+05:30

after such a long hiatus, I gather myself most forcefully to start writing again. This might sound like the ruminations of an over worked mind..., but why do we have to work for a living?? Who invented the concept of money?? Why do we have to pay in order to get what we want?? Why can't the world be a huge place to party where no one needs to buy anything, just walk in and take it off the shelf?? ....hey wait..., but who will bother to keep a shelf with things stacked in it...., will farmers toil under the sun so it gets on that shelf that no one owns, for us to simply walk over and take without paying...?? Yeah right., the farmer will bend over and show his tanned ass!!!

Oh well! Utopia!

Well if you notice, my previous blog was more of life and action. After that, I landed a Job!

Wake up every morning much against one's will., perform the daily rituals, get in the car and set out to face urban madness. Reach office and there are about every form of villainy lurking around, in the form of mails, meetings, deadlines, and the boss. Fire fight each day's drudgery and drive back once again in the same urban chaos to get back home like a generously mangled matador.
All this for what?? The damn bills, see?

I do love my job immensely (am lying, incase my boss reads this)., but I dont like the routine of it. Its fun at work all right., but its more fun sitting on your couch with the remote. But then you got to become something in life..., achieve something in life., prove in life...eat in life, drink and watch TV in life and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

.....but the bills!!!!!!!!!

Blog Bloom blah blah...

2004-07-22T17:25:00.000+05:30

I don’t have the Pulitzer in mind. Bear that. What I write may sound extremely tasteless to the snooty civil, but they are not invited to read in the first place. This is for those with their tongues in the wrong places doing the right things. Geddit?

Do I sound seriously twisted in the head? Well, if you got till here, we’re a fraternity already! So Bienvenue!

Why I decided to blog? Mainly to amuse myself and secondly, its none of your business.

What you will find here?? ...excerpts of a life lived askew that will someday embarrass my children. I promise, this will have juice, if not mine, then others’!

I have a lot of friends, some changed nappies with me while some lasted a blink. …friends who stick with me in times of need and flee in times of deed.. but nevertheless, we all have a trait that so binds us together. We’re all animals drinking out of the same water hole....

I have friends of all hues and shapes.., some tall and wanting, some short and wanking, some arseholes and some without, some that drink like fishes while some just search their bushes… all hues and all shapes, trust me! Devils with separate surnames.

So heehaw brothers, this blog will have posts of what we did unto ourselves and unto others. So raise your hand my brother, let’s poke each others eye and howl into a strangers ear!
Watch out for this space, boys and dirty girls, leave your foot outside and crawl in here, cuz’ this place is no place for the ludicrously sane!!

2004-07-21T15:27:00.000+05:30

That's me, at the Zara Tapas Bar in Chennai, clicked by a good friend, Eshwar!