Stupid BPO joke.

“Dude, I don’t think I’ll be up for the parallel run.”

“Why’s that?”

“I get tired very soon.”

—-

It’s a stupid joke not just because I made it up, but also because none of my colleagues laughed.

—-

Ponder over this: What if the west outsourced cockroaches?

I know, I’ll stop.

Amen.

Indian Idiots – I (patriotism guaranteed, conditions apply)

It’s probably high time I kept my thoughts to myself. It’s not because I’m afraid I might ‘hurt’ someone or worse, ‘emotionally scar’ them. It’s not even because I want to be ‘liked’ or worse, be ‘popular’.

But it is definitely irritating when someone with a self righteous attitude comes up to me and tells me they don’t ‘approve’ of my tastes – the music I listen to, the way I (don’t) comb my hair, the way I talk, the way I walk, the underwear I (sometimes) wear, the list is long and more ridiculous.

Let me make a list of “little things” I don’t like about people.

1. The ring tones in their cell-phones. Specially tones from the following movies.

a) Anniyan: If you thought the music sucked, wait till you hear the tones. No wait, you already have it in your phone. Asswipe!

b) Aashiq Banaya Aapne: Fuck the movie. Fuck the song. Fuck the tone. A nasal title song. An anal tone. Fuck you for downloading that.

c) Zeher: I’m tired of “Woh Lamhe”. Agreed, I liked that song for a while, but a while is all I can like it for. It was and still is everywhere. I hate Kunal Ganjawala for agreeing to sing that song. Fuck him. And yeah, fuck you.

d) Any other “Latest Bollywood Hit”: I know there’s a lot of peer pressure in your smaller-than-a-dot circle of friends, but for fuck’s sake, don’t waste your money on meaningless tones that most of the time are actually out of tune.

2. The “new and hep” Caller Tune culture. What I don’t understand about this is, why would someone pay money to download a tune and then pay monthly charges for the tune just so that someone else can listen to it? What kind of satisfaction do they derive from that? If they really want to please others, they can very well donate that money to a “charity organization” or just buy three notebooks for thirty bucks and give it to a “deserving student”.
Oh well, I can dream, can’t I?

It also irritates me to listen to the damn thing. Again, it’s some shitty Anniyan, Aashiq Banaya Aapne, Zeher and other miscellaneous shit. People are just wasting money on something I don’t even like.

3. Politician-Bashing-Couch-Potato Syndrome. “I don’t like something about my country. What do I do? I diss politicians. I form opinions entirely based on their performance, or should I say the lack of it? I forget the fact that I did not vote. I also forgot when the fucking voting was held. Why do they have voting on holidays?

“And yet, since I pay taxes – which by the way I’m not too happy about – I automatically have a right to point my finger at the politician. I want what I want. I don’t like the traffic jams here, but I’ll not stop myself from cutting lanes at the same time. I will definitely overtake a vehicle from the wrong side if the situation demands it and I will talk on the cell phone – even try to catch up on my unread sms – while I’m riding. Who wants to stop? The traffic’s bad, remember? And you know why? It’s the politicians, I tell you.

“They’re the real assholes. What are you showing that finger for…. Come back here, I want to tell you more. I think…

Fuck what you think. Asshole.

4. Religious “Atheists”. I hate them. They’re the most hypocritical pieces of shit I’ve ever come across.

No, I am not talking about the Shiv Sena who want Valentine’s Day, erhm, well, banned. Oh, by the way, I have a theory on why they want V-Day banned.

Valentine’s Day is a day to celebrate “love” right? So, it’s a “Love Day”. Say “love day” repeatedly and if your Hindi’s not bad, yo\u’ll know why the Sena’s pissed off.

Coming back to atheists, well, they just suck. They religiously follow their idea of no-religion. Well, that’s kind of true, right? They even have Atheist Conventions and shit! That’s just taking things one step too far.

5. Can’t think of a name here. This is about the gullible pieces of shit that almost everyone seems to have become. What the fuck happened to the slow research one used to do before they actually bought a particular (expensive) product. It looks like people would even eat shit if it is marketed well. Yeah, you know, have a lucky “dip” contest, give them some free gifts, and promise a tour to Switzerland or Australia or even Nigeria for that matter.

I repeat – People would even eat shit if it is marketed well.

TVS Victor sales drastically increased after Sachin Tendulkar was signed on as the ambassador.

Too bad, many fuckers don’t know he can’t ride a freaking bike.

Thus, I repeat, again: People would even eat shit if it is marketed well.

Or have Amitabh Bachchan market the shit. He can draw from his “experience” in the film industry and tell the gullible idiots at home how eating shit improved his intelligence and made him rich man. People will buy that.

Man, I should get into marketing! I’m so full of shit, no, ideas!

6. The “Can-I-Have-A-Light” Syndrome. Smokers, if you don’t have a cigarette lighting device, buy one. It doesn’t cost much. The cheapest matchbox costs around 40 paise and a wax thingy costs ten paise more.

It does not make sense with you in your costly looking clothes walking around with a cigarette in your mouth asking me “cen I hev ae lih pfees?” Some people don’t even ask me that these days.

They just stand next to me and give me some sign-language shit.

To the people who ask me, no, I will not part with my matchbox.

To the people who give me sign language, the finger.

I just don’t get it. Someone who spends twenty five bucks on a pack of Wills can shell 50p more for a matchbox? Why, you’re suddenly aware of the money you’re spending on “sundries” and you want to cut down on that? If you want to cut down on spending on sundries, stop buying stuff for yourself, you self-centered son of a bitch.

—

A nine hour shift means I have just about forty-odd minutes to write whatever the hell I want to. I mean, the rest of the time, I’m reading forwards, smoking, eating, playing the fool and well, reading more forwards. I know, I work so hard.

The list is incomplete. Expect more. And be scared. Very, very scared.

Amen.

A request.

If you feel my tastes don’t quite live up to yours, please shut the fuck up and mind your fucking business.

I do not comment on your hypocrisy, your preaching for scientific thought and yet clinging to faith – on an invisible fucker sitting up in the sky and the thought that he yields all the fucking power. You’re wrong, motherfuckers.

Well, now you may say I have just contradicted myself by actually commenting on your hypocrisy.

Then again, fuckers, I’ve merely stated a fact.

But then, I don’t really think you’ll understand what I’m saying because of the dimwits that you are. Again, this is not a comment or an opinion. It’s just what you all are.

And don’t bother commenting unless you have an opinion.

Thank you, fuckers.

Amen.

People should just die… no, they should just vanish into thin air… maybe thick air… no, wait…

1. People who hum off-tune.
2. People who wear jewelry even to go to the loo.
3. People who derive pleasure from the vibrate mode in their cell-phones.
4. People who swing their arms while they walk.
5. People who take up laughter therapy. And worse, people who prescribe it.
6. People who run their hands through their hair at a fast food joint.
7. People who honk at signals. Even when it’s red.
8. People who honk at signals. When it’s on yellow.
9. People who honk everywhere else.
10. People who think I’m being unfair now.

—-

On a more joyous note, I’m an now an uncle.

—-

Now, that’s a paradox.

Amen.

Me.

The animal, the human, the son, the brother, the friend
– just to name a few.

Illiterate, uneducated and uncouth.

Overbearing, possessive and shy.

Selfish, cynical and sarcastic.

Passive, aggressive and paradoxical.

Critic, analyst and judge.

Birth, life and death.

Rants, cribs and musings.

Quiet, loud and noisy.

Wins and Losses.
A Victor and A Loser.

Perseverence and Fatalism
FICTION AND FACT

Amen.

Du Arschloch

Go figure.

Amen.

Credits – Google.

Du Arschloch, ja Sie

Random Rant…

I sometimes wonder why I try to express myself, why I try to write, why I try to indulge in what most people call “whining”. Some call me funny, some call me sarcastic and some say I should not write for the benefit of humankind. I’ve tried long and hard to describe myself as a writer. I’ve hit a dead end every time I did that.

When it is so easy for me to pass a judgment about someone or describe someone, why do I falter when I want to do the same to me?

But I don’t think anybody can ‘describe’ themselves honestly and accurately.

I have noticed that in so many people. They either have too high an opinion of themselves or their self esteem is lower than ‘rock bottom’. And neither of them is accurate.

I wish I knew why this happens. Is it the way they see themselves of is it the way they perceive others to see them?

I’m probably the first person to write about something as small as this but it is fun when you ponder over it. It makes you, well, think.

I talk to myself – a lot. I have debates, arguments and verbal fist-fights with myself. I call myself a bastard and then say, “Yeah, you too!”

The real me? I wish I knew. Nobody knows what emotions I’m capable of, not even me. And that’s probably the most fascinating thing for me about me. I learn new things everyday. I don’t remember them all, but yes, it is stored somewhere in my brain and recollection does occur someday. And when that happens, I won’t even know how I learnt it.

It’s like learning how to walk or talk when we were kids. I don’t remember when or how I learnt to walk, but I know I learnt it somehow.

Simple things like these amuse me and are a particular interest to me. I want to notice the smallest of things, sometimes really stupid things, and wonder why we do that.

George Carlin does that and he does that really well. He is my God for now. He has taught me to open my senses and observe even the obscurest of things around me. Nature, according to him, is the best teacher. I’m not there yet, but I am waiting for the day when I learn the true meaning behind that though.

Until then, I’ll stick to being me, the one-eyed king in the land of the blind!

Amen.

Weird links.

http://www.nothing.com

http://idontknow.com

Heh.

It’s smoke time and in no time, I’m in the ‘Smoke Zone’- An open space dedicated to smokers, an open space, designated to give pleasure who crave for the smell and taste of nicotine, an open space with tables, chairs and huge ashtrays, an open space where you’d unwind and relax, loosen your tie and sms your loved ones, an open space not immune to the harsh sunlight but for the tall coconut trees, not immune from the rain but for the umbrellas you carry, an open space where everyone passes through, an open space where you are one with you.

Heck, it’s just an open space! Well, what is an open space anyway?

Amen.

It is amazing how things just go “poof”.

—

I hate blocks. Oh well… Hot news, if you want to call it that. I’m not quitting the blog-world in a hurry. In fact, I have bigger (and hopefuly better) things in mind.

1. A three or four part semi-fiction series on shit I have been thinking about.

2. A new look to the page and a new URL maybe. I might buy some hosting.

3. A happier new year.

Of course, with the time I have on hand, the first two “points in the to-do” list will happen at a very slow pace. The third one, well, I’ll just let the rum do the talking on 1st Jan. Heh.

Oh and Hippi Dipivli.

Amen.