Check this out..

if you search "do blowjobs cure headaches" on google,
google replies - did you mean: do blowjobs cause headaches

now i know for sure that whoever wrote the code for this was a girl.. lol

AIDS dinotsava subhakankshalu..

just read this report somewhere on the net// I still haven't recovered.

Only a quarter of condoms made in India are used for sex, most of the others are used to make saris, toys and bathroom slippers, a newspaper reported on Saturday.

The condoms are valuable to manufacturers because of the lubricant on them. Sari weavers place the condoms on their thread spools and the lubricant on the prophylactics is rubbed off on the thread, making it move faster through their sewing machines, the newspaper quoted an Indian industry official as saying.

Sari makers also turn the condoms inside out, place them on their fingers and use the high-quality lubricant to polish gold and silver threads used in the traditional Indian women's outfits.
Just for the record, India manufactures more than 1 billion condoms annually to check population growth and curb the spread of HIV/AIDS.

rotfl.

There is some food in my oven [not a metaphor, I'm cooking dinner] The timer is set for twenty minutes.. trying to make pizza... trying to get the hang of this oven thingy process. Okay I am going to blog until dinner. --- [Note: At this point, i browsed the internet for seventeen minutes] I was just on some other blogs. you know.. Nobody ain't missing out on much. There are some Youtube videos, a few links to some stupid articles and wait.. whats this.. oh.. nah.. its just MONKEYSHIT. The blogosphere is a pretty low-latitude sphere, residing near the crust of the earth. It is between the nerdosphere... and the dickosphere. Before the word "blogosphere" was invented, they actually used to call it "The Nerd-Dick Region. "I guess quittin' blogging is not so bad an idea.. Ka-Ching!!

Three Blind Mice

See how they run.

Goddamn scientists messin' up our nursery rhymes now. What next? They'll figure out how to put Humpty Dumpty back together again?

So NOT interested...

i am SO not interested in my work today. i mean, yeah, there are days like that for everyone. but today, its particularly bad. unfortunately, it's very pressing work, and it has to get done today!!
oh helll.. fuck it. it can just be done tomorrow. let it just 'press' me more tomo
that is a good thing about working on a sunday. eh? NO BOSS around!!! not to be obnoxious about it or anything.
i guess i’ll goof off some and then find some other stuff to work on that is interesting me in the moment. that’s way more fun. and maybe write something. or read something. or just think something, for that matter.

peace out, folks!

My life oscillates between really busy and totally dead. My blogging never knows where to fit in. If there's nothing happening, I'm not too motivated to write and I dont have time to be online when there's better things to do. I know it sounds like the internet is the preserve of the geek, the nerd and the socially unaccepted, but I don't judge. I've been all three. When necessary, I still am.

What sucks..

What sucks is I don't have time for a proper social life.

What sucks is that i can't go out tomorrow night for a drink cos i have to freakin' work..

What sucks is that somebody ate the last cornucopia in the fridge

what sucks even more is that i don't have any money left so that i can go visit my sweet angel in delhi?

Hmmm...what else....

Okay, I guess I can do one more quick one.

What sucks is Lukas "Don't Call Me Frodo/ Lisa Minnelli dupe" Rossi won Rock Star: Supernova.

end.

i just heard..

that soon after irwin died..australia zoo had to call an emergency board meeting. Apparently there was something that steve needed to get off his chest.

But seriously, the funeral is going to be a big event. They're even inviting some big names that were once friends of Steve, like STING, RAY Romano and BARBara Streisand.

I guess it's like they always say: If theres one thing worse than getting sunburnt it's catching too many rays.

Yeah i know.. im going straight to hell!!!

Crikey!! He's no more.

In case you haven't heard Steve Irwin, better know as The crocodile Hunter, has been killed. According to what i've read and what i've seen on tv, he was filming a program about the Great Barrier reef when a stingray barb went through his chest and killed him before medical help could arrive. The hardcore SOB even pulled the barb out before losing consciousness.

I seriously didn't know stingrays could kill people. I just thought they stung people and occasionally rayed them. I mean of all the animals he fucked with over the years.. a stingray? Irony is a cruel mistress.

Steve Irwin always seemed like he was hopped up on happy pills but thats the way he was. The man lived with no fear and was trying to make the world a better place. He made a movie, albeit a bad one, and donated all of the money he was suppose to make to wildlife conservation. Thats something to think about.. He put his life on the line to entertain drunk kids like me when i was too sloshed to even change the channel late at night. I now feel kind of guilty for openly rooting for the alligators and crocodiles a few times.
I guess he had it coming.. but a friggin' stingray?? i always thought he would have his testicles chopped by a big ol' mean alleygator or something.. anyways.. just knowing that Steve existed in the world made me feel a little more sane, a little better about myself but now the man who made Crikey! a global term is sleeping with the fishes. Ok, that may have been a poor choice of words considering he was killed by a fish but wateva you get my point. The next time you're enjoying a Fosters pour a little out for your boy Steve.

and make sure you recycle the can when you're finished.

RIP Steve Irwin
(1962-2006)

before another bout of procrastination sets in..

it's been just 2 days since I last posted, so I won't rush into it. i'm not short of ideas or anything but me tooo lazy right now.. lemme just savor the moment. wow 2 posts in 3 days.. not bad andy boy. actually i'd rather blog than sit n work in this dumb cubicle of mine..but wateva. Anyways this post is just to direct any new readers [if there are any] to scroll back to the earlier posts and leave comments. For those dedicated fans out there [that's you], feel free to visit later for the new wave of posts. Anytime now. Yep. Just you wait.

over n out

Thus quoth the scribe!!

I thought about writing today. Not the verb. The noun. Writing. But writing is so innately human, that it does not stand alone in my mind. When I think about writing, I think about people. And when I think about writing, I think about me. Is this going to be another stupid post? I should hope not. But I am going to string together a bunch of adjectives and metaphors and hope I get some closure. I write because I love the language. I write in stead of making talk. I write for attention, to be more than who I am, and to stretch the space-time continuum of my written work. I write to separate the noun from the verb.

Writing is cathartic for me; at times effortless, at times a chore that I embark upon just to feel the endorphins flowing again. And writing is important to my identity. I cannot look on a future without it. My wrists have become precious; my fingers, cherished. I have struggled to fathom my fascination with semantics and syntax. And it seems to be a common search among writers. I want my words to do everything I cannot do. Paint pictures across the sky in rays of brilliant contrails. Scratch dark grottos in dim forests. Splash whirlpools and whitecaps through a reader's fleeting attention span. Etch fiery whispers that linger in the dark. I do not know why I am so fascinated by thought and word. Shaping ideas, shading dreams, twisting a seeming into surety; its all possible with a word or phrase laid down at the fulcrum of events. The birth of the perfect line is a work of beauty and pain. I have seen children stringing together bead necklaces for each other. They pick and choose colors and shapes, look for continuity and aesthetic and thread a thin string through minuscule holes that defy patience until they are satisfied with the heft of their creation. The look [when they whirl it in the sunlight, or give it to a friend, or feel it lie on their neck] is the look I want on my face when I see my writing.

i really should blog more often.. work's takin up too much of time and my creativity.. while i was sloggin my ass off, blogs got banned and then blogs got un-banned.. wat it eez i yam not understanding only.. anyways i am kinda enjoying my first non-hectic day at work after almost 2 months.. can't even go outside cos its raining like shit.. wat to do.

i lie in futility

I lie in the welter of my emotions, listening to the steel riffs of half familiar rock songs vibrate air molecules on the way to my brain. I lie on a bed with socks on, dressed in the clothes I went out in, looking at my ceiling and the interplay of light and shadow. I lie here waiting for life to come and kiss me bye or kick me in the ass or even, dare I hope, smile sweetly and make me drunk with giddy happiness for 'koncham' joie de vivre. I lie on my back through it all, imprisoned more surely than any raving loon, held down by a sense of futility, of a world getting away from me, of sand running through my hands. I lie until it is time to get up again and go look at the bright sunlight, at people playing at life, at color and texture and feeling and right now it is all a chore. I lie surrounded by the broken pieces of my failed aspirations and smile at neurosis. I wonder if other people are as comfortable with their incipient madness, with the stranger whose lunatic gaze peeps out from their soul.

Is Back!!

Recently Uncancelled"

Now Playing: "We B Clubbin' " by DMX n Ice Cube

Most part of May and June was a difficult one for me n [my] so-called [Blog afficionados], as the sudden loss of their favorite blog sent them spiraling down into a state of miscarriage-inducing panic. Until today, many people [thankfully?!] believed they would never again be moderately entertained/grossed for 10 minutes after loggin onto the net after they finished watching the first five minutes of The Simi Garewal Show, which is the longest anyone can probably bear to watch that god-awful waste of the exposing talent of Simi Garewal. Yeah, believe it or not, she was hot at one point in her life back in those Eastman color movies.
But whatever, I is back peeps,i uncancelled myself cos im getting bored cos there's pretty much nothing to do except WORK. work more work. And I've decided i want a break. And last night i slept for TEN hours which is news cos i have hardly been catching winks for the past 3 months.

Like many others of my ilk, I dream in my sleep. I dream otherwise too, n do i dream BIG... as evidenced by the fact that in my sleep dreams my writings outsold shitty Dan Brown merchandise by a factor of 6.57 million to 0 according to statistics I obtained from Akbar the Economics Centaur who lives in the underground tunnel that joins my room to a secret military lab in a dream I might have had after eating too much curd.

i know that I aint making much sense.. most of are wondering ki whats happenin to "good ol' andy", as i am amicably referred to in various circles? Here's what happened.. in my dream ----------..

..---->I was awoken with a start at the unholy hour of 5:30am on a Saturday by a knock at my door. This was unusual, because my maid knows I don't like to be disturbed before 11. "Open up," a serious voice belted. "Police!" At first I thought that sort of thing only happened in the movies, and I ,therefore must be dreaming. That's why I hollered back, in a groggy and irritable tone: "You can't arrest me! I havent brushed my teeth yet." I then realized this didn't make a whole lot of sense but hey it was my dream and I could take whatever creative liberties I wanted to. This was probably a mistake.
-After the door was busted open approximately eight seconds later, I found myself being handcuffed and led out to the back of a police car. "Great", I thought to myself, which is really the only way possible to think...I mean how could you think to someone else unless you were some kinda telepathic mastermind like in that movie Minority Report, and even those guys needed special equipment and a pool of melted jelly to get that glisteny sheen that reflected off their submerged foreheads... "There goes my door!!".
Even as i hopelessly pleaded with the officer to remove my cuffs so i could un-COMMANDO myself [hehehe]., my mind began running through the possible reasons I might be in this pickle of a jam, which was a phrase that seemed way funnier in my dream . Why was i getting arrested. Was it because i flicked an ice-cream from food-World the other day? Or was it because i 'unknowingly' scratched my 'friends' car all over with an army knife after 'accidentally' letting the air off from the tyres??
[-If maybe i was being arrested for something much more benign than any of those crazy ideas then you should in no way inform the concerned authorities.wohkay?]

"Can I offer you something to drink?", asked the detective after we arrived at the interrogation room. I figured this was a pretty easy question, and didn't really necessitate a whole room, but I played along. "Do you have Mountain Dew?" Ordinarily I wouldn't answer a question with another question, but I figured that's how things worked in the interrogation room. I mean.. think about the name dude. Anyway, the detective comes back with a Coke, which btw Aamir Khan is doing a superlative crappy pathetic job of advertising. "Didnt I ask for a Dew?" I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this interrogation thingy..

-Over to my prison cell,in almost all the prison movies I've ever seen, the bathroom is a dank corner of the cell where flies buzz around a dilapidated rusty toilet and all the guards point and laugh whenever you have to poop. So at first I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that my cell had no bathroom at all. The relief quickly faded into puzzlement, however,when that MOuntain Dew finally wound its way through my small intestine and the need to [DO] a private bodily function became quite intense. I called over to one of the guards, and asked him what the deal was. He replied that the bathroom was down the hall,and I needed to ask permission and get a pass every time I wanted to go. Now i got it figured out why its called Passing[it].. bad joke eh? Wait,there are cameras everywhere filming me while I poop. Perverts.
There's not a whole lot to do while you're sitting in a cell even if its in your dream. A lot of people don't realize the sheer level of boredom you experience.. I tried accessing a computer so I could post my loyal readers a blog about this, but the computer refused to connect to the net displaying a [nobody fuckin cares] error message.
-Finally, several hours later, I think i finally wake up. The experience taught me a lot, such as that prison isn't just for pakis and hardened criminals like Osama bin Laden and MonicaBedi, but also for ordinary folks like you and me. And now that i am finally up and the ordeal is behind me I can go back to living the life of anti-sloth I enjoyed before this fiasco. So to all you readers out there who patiently waited for me to return, and refrained from sending me any emails of concern, knowing that it would only increase my agony, thank you. I love you all.

PS: Someone explain to me this tagging business. what only it is i am not understanding only.

people.. take notice!!!

blogger Andy has gone away
but he'll be back another day
to rave and rant and bitch and moan
with humour that will make you groan

he's still alive and full of beans
he's got the end to make the means
but if you think he's gone for good
it's certain you've misunderstood

for tired is what he really is
he's not about to leave the biz
a snooze is what he's gonna get
so that his brain will be reset..

Avakai..

Our mango tree has bore fruit... so the queen of cuisine... my grandmom, my mom and my aunt got down for the annual ritual.. making the Avakai.. or rather Putting the Avakai [ avakay pettadam] :P

My mom and my aunt cut the mangoes into li'l bunch a pieces.. while my grandmom was patiently mixing the whole thing with her hands.. putting in the required amounts of uppu, karam etc etc.. and the smell that emanated was too much for me to resist and i quietly managed to sneak in and grab a handful for me to munch on even as my ammamma started her endless trademarked tittus exclusively reserved for me. .. Oreyy Vedhava sanyasi... chetulu pettaku.. intaga edigavu.. inka vedhavveshaalu maanledu... adda gaadida!!!!

lol.

In my opinion, there is no better pickle than Avakai.

Mango's the king of fruits

Avakai's the king of pickles

Period

Avakai + mudda pappu.. Here i come.

Burp.

PS:Ever tried Pizza+ Avakai combo.. yummmmm it is.. :D

Richie: So, are we in a serious relationship?

Me: Why does it have to be serious? Why can’t I be in a funny relationship?

Richie: What’s a funny relationship?

Me: It’s one where you can make out and party and laugh and have fun 24/7.

Richie: That’s fine. As long as it’s in a serious relationship.

Me: I’ll never understand women.

NEVER accompany women on shopping trips..

[Life's Lesson # 3457 : Never accompany women on shopping trips. I learnt that the hard way. ]


Richie's in town from Chennai.. and she had to do some shopping. so as usual picked the ever-jobless yours truly.. even i had to get some easter shopping done as well. so we went to Lifestyle.

She decides to buy these two tops. Both of them are in some sorta similar Brownish colors. Now I notice the top she's wearing. No prizes for guessing but you can guess anyways. Yes you're right.

Brown.

I'm assuming you got it right. So if you didn't, blow me.

I did what i do best ie Ask a stupid question. Now at that time point of time it didn't seem stupid at all.But in retrospect, i have to own up. That was one of the stupidest questions ever cos all i got were weird answers . Here's how the conversation ensued.

Me: wats with all the brown clothes ra?

Richie: Brown is the New Pink. [?] -Weird answer#1

Me: what happens to the pink ones then? won't people buy them anymore?

Richie: People are still gonna buy pink cos Pink is the New Black. [??] -Weird Answer #2

At this point of time, i was more confused than ever, but still.. i hung on in there..tried to get one more query clarified.

Me: Errr.. o...kay but then what about the Black clothes??

Richa : Black Rules forever dude.

Me: *Chukkalu*Chukkalu*More Chukkalu*

:S

finally felt the depth in what mayank says all the time.. Ab kya bolna samajh mein nahi aara!!!hehe

sentence fragment [consider revising]

or it can be... why i dont follow correct grammar religiously.

image dictates impression.

tryin to deconstruct the use of grammar. recast the shape of a sentence to reflect the immediacy of the moment. trim excess foliage and allow the naked thought spotlight. or allow ambiguity to creep over the branches and bear fruit. in your mind.

i've noticed that words can get in the way of ideas. that by the time we decipher the convoluted skeins of thought we often deal with, we've lost touch with our core concept. do we need to add excess verbiage to that mix?

read my ideas. i've tried to express them as i see it in my head. the bloom of color on a blackened gray horizon. i chase after meaning, and the expression of thought.

ps : ugadi subhakankshalu :)

Why drink beer.. the ultimate logic!!!

A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers.

burp.

If you're ironing for the first time, its not the best idea to start with your favourite shirt. :/

Ouch.. boo hoo!!

There was once this pretty dame
Silpa J was her name
She kinda is a cranky *Beep*
cos she always calls me a creep

And thus once enraged, it came to pass
she fell down and bust her ass
she flipped and flapped and yelled out "FOO!"
cos earth made a hard rendezvous.

I knew it was kinda rude a me
But I laughed so hard,
That I almost forgot to ask
if alright she was.

but gotta admit,
it was funny as hell
Her rear got squished
the way she fell.

You might wonder whats the reason
I tell ya her brain's outta season
She might say All This is CraP
but Honey its just Moi RaP.

peace out. [:P]

Happy b'day Spike

Spike turned a year old today..

i have to confess.. i used to be shit scared of dogs. Probably because when I was a one-year-old, a dog tried to maul me.Once, a neighbor's dog, a huge burly Alsatian came a few inches from what I can only assume to be swallowing me whole. And I was a pretty big baby.
There's no proof that that incident actually occurred and there's a good chance i might just be making all this up.

My dog problems culminated a few years later when I was playing outside my home with my cousin Mike. We'd been out a while and decided to sit for a few minutes. With no warning other than a bunch of barking and a loud collar jangling, a large dog bolted towards my cuz bro. The dog easily knocked him over, no small feat to me considering how large a 12-year-old looked to an eight-year-old me. After defeating the leader of the pack (a two-person pack, but a pack nonetheless), the dog headed straight for me in an attempt to finish the job. I did the only thing I could. I ducked. Did Scotty the doggy bite me? Scratch me?Swallow me?Shoot me with the laser beam attached to his collar?

Worse - it jumped over me, kicking me in the head as it landed.

That's right - I am the only person in the world to have been jumpkicked in the head by a dog.

As I got older and less swallowable, I began realizing my fear of dogs was irrational. I am bigger than most dogs, and thus they should be afraid of me. But it's not Completely irrational. In a fight, a dog has less to lose. You can't reason with a dog. And dogs don't follow the 11th commandment of "thou shall not bite thy opponent in the crotchal area." Nevertheless, I'm now okay with most things of the dog-al persuasion.
My friend chetan helped me with this process, since his err.. bitch Danzy's a total wuss. Now don't get me wrong.. Danzy's an awesome dog and a great dog,but the meanest thing she ever did was chew on our socks.

And then one day there was born Spike.. Danzy's offspring.. now This doggydude is the lean mean tough machine-animal of our neighborhood. Don't get fooled by his innocent what-can-i-possibly-do-to-u look in the pic. that was taken when he was 6 months old and i had doggy biscuits in my hand too. Now He's celebrating his first birthday and he's already started humping his own mom.

Mofoing s.o.b.

Anyways here's wishing Spike a very happy birthday and here's to Danzy and Chetan as well.

Cheers.

Arf arf.

Dont get smart with me.

I was recently told not to get smart with someone. I apologized, and assured her that I was only being smart in comparison.

"Don't get smart with me" is one of the dumbest phrases we use. Well, one of the dumbest phrases People use. I can't say "we" because I don't use it. Making fun of people who say "Don't get smart with me" is the only time I ever say "Don't get smart with me."

What is "don't get smart with me" supposed to mean? Typically, thats used during an argument in response to the other party making a good point. They should say, "Don't you dare bring intelligence into this in order to combat my infinite dumbness!" Or something more their style, like "I jusht only cannot underishtand whaat only yuvar trying to tell!"

The phrase is probably intended to mean, "don't be a smartass." But if the speaker means "don't be a smartass," thats what they should say. When the chick I was arguing with said, "don't get smart with me!" I wanted to tell her I wouldn't have to get smart with her if she weren't so dumb with me in the first place. Then she'd have to say, "there you go, being smart again! We're never going to get anywhere if you keep being smart!"

Its not my fault i was born smart, no?!

Bored

I'm bored.

today me sitting around @ home being bored and doing whatever it is i normally do when i'm not sleeping or eating, chanced upon this brand new box of crayons, so took them upto my room[ i was bored, shut up]. I loved them. But here's my problem.

Too many colours.250 freakin' colours. Who the f needs these many shades of white and who's the brain surgeon who comes up with names for crayons? What the hell is 'pecan' anyway? Isn't that some kinda food? I have one white crayon named 'Snowflake' and another white crayon called 'Igloo'!!
Hey you know what igloos are made of? Snowflakes. Lots and lots of snowflakes. Shitloads of 'em.

Thats not the point of this blog, mind you.

I just had to let that out.

Point is, I'm bored.

People ask why i make no sense.

I say,

I speak from experience.

When I die..

When I die,I seriously think it'd be kick ass to really mess with all my friends and family. That's why at my funeral, I really want to do something spectacular. Something so that nobody will ever forget me.

Here's my idea: At my funeral, I'll have a closed casket. That way, everybody will think that my body is inside. Little do they know, however, that when people are sobbing and praying, or whatever it is they do at funerals, my body will drop down from the ceiling suspended on wires. The lights will go down, a strobe light will turn on, and techno music will play in the background as my corpse flops and floats around while soaring over the heads of my loved ones.God,I'd give anything to see the looks on their faces.But then the whole point behind being dead is you can't experience such privileges.So I have decided that I'll conduct the same fiasco,if u wanna call it that, on somebody else.Hhmm, there are so many names that come to my mind now. Its hard to choose.But you can't have a funeral unless you're dead. SO i'll have to accomplish that task also myself.

So i Choose You.. yes [You] only.

My heart quivers at the pleasure of killing you first cos the primary objective of having a funeral is to 'Honour' the 'dead' dude.You are most welcome to post any of your comments and suggestions.Thank you for your kind co operation,i'm sure you had nothing better to do anyway cos u all lead miserable miserable lives.

>>God damn I am such the fucker<<

Block Block

It's getting incredibly harder for me to write, to blog these days. It seems that the part of my brain responsible for verbal faculties has suddenly atrophied! I really don't know what will get me to write on reflex! It used to be so easy. Nowadays, it takes several days for me to stew and simmer my thoughts to give textual form to the intangible images floating in my mind. Several days of stewing that translates to an entry that nobody reads.Stupid writer's block.

What to do now...

true love comes quietly...

today [ Feb14] is valentines day...the day for love.....and exactly 9 months later, on the 14th of november, we have childrens day.....hmmm...food for thought ah.....Its time ppl use the rubber more i might say ;).

They say, "The way to a woman's heart is through your wallet."......well it is no wonder I am still single.Actually i have beeen smitten by the love bug quite a few times, 3657 to be precise...but the problem was that none of them reciprocated. But i am a believer.

"If it is your time, love will track you down like a cruiser missile."

..and im waiting for my time[Losing patience in the bargain].....mera time kab aayega......???

All my life, I have been regularly falling in love at an average of 3 times a day! Every time a hot chick passes by, my dil ki ghanti starts bajaaofying...and it has bajaaofyd so frequently, that over the 22 years of experience that i have managed to garner, I have begun to realise that True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. I've learnt one more thing.. if you hear bells, get your ears checked.So I conveniently ignore all the sounds that ring when women pass by me... its probably just their cell phones or their bells or horns telling me to get outta their way..

I am waiting for that moment of silence...i am waiting for true love...and true love's first kiss.....ok!! now this is as romantic i can get... cos i follow the following blog commandment..

Thou shalt not put senti.Cheap senti or otherwise. Not online, not offline, not phone line. Wohkay!!


So All u beautiful people reading, please consider this honest appeal...

Try me once, if not satisfied, love back guaranteee.....get me out of club67

pleej..

Haircut Ho!!!

The world of hair care is plagued with this male-female dichotomy[no idea what the word means but i read this phrase somewhere].

You have your manly haircutting saloons and the shack i goto [Surya Haircutting Saloon] features Surya,the guy who's been giving me haircuts since i was 10 and a TV with AdityaTV always on..

and then you have your girly Salons [ with the extra O conspicuous by its absence to differentiate it from a saloon]..

The girly salons will feature perms, dyes, highlights, curls, nails, massage, wash, dry, spin cycle, and various monkeycrappy hair products whose 'clients' mainly comprise of old fat balding men and gays and suckers who call themself "MetroSexual". What is with that word anyway..how can i also start calling myself one.. by having Sex on a Train?! Metrosexuals are effeminate LoseRs!!! Period.

Now you'd think the choice would be obvious. If I go to the manly place, I might have to pay fifty bucks as opposed to five hundred. Plus,Surya's as close to a modern day pirate as ever will get. THIS IS A HIGH SEAS HAIRCUT ADVENTURE. But there's one thing you're forgetting: the girly salon will probably give you a GOOD haircut...and a nice facial to boot! Unless I take a picture of Surya and carry it around as explanation for why i have buzz knicks and claw marks on my scalp, it's safer to go to the girly salon.

And who knows you might run into your CRUSH there! TEE-HEE!

So hopefully this time i have decided to skip Surya's and get a haircut at one of those ~posh~ salons where gay people mostly hang out.So now let's decide on what style I want. I have no clue as usual. You have no clue, don't worry that's normal. The haircut people have no clue what you're trying to say anyway. Even Surya doesn't.They just toss out jargon to muddle you up while they proceed to cut in small baby-step stages. This is because "taking more off is always okay, but putting it back on is the hard part." That was an actual quote by my barber translated by me from crude telugu to english...every time I go in there,he still wonders why I don't come in that often.
S: " Enti ee madhya ravatledu"?
Me: "Dude,its not like i need a haircut everyday, im not a were wolf to come in that often!!"

Btw Now what if you DO know what you want your hair to look like. Well you should bring in a picture of a celeb with that hairstyle so that your haircutter will know precisely what you want. NOT Shah Rukh khan though,as a fact all hairdressers' favorite character is Salman Khan. Surya's even got his face painted on this board outside..

One of my friends goes to this Habib's or Jamal's or some salon named after this guy where you even have some chicks give u a cut. He always comes out with a huge smirk on his face.Yea maybe we also should go there..this is going to be nice! You're in for one semi-erotic experience. With Sunny running fingers through your hair, making you go up and down in the chair, and blowing on your ear...with the dryer, you're damn justified for having that erection. Everyone over there knows you have one, so be proud! If you dont get one, that means you're probably homo. Why do you think they cover you up in that big sheet. And we haven't even gotten to the hair buzzer. In the right hands it is like a vibrator for your neck. Tingly nerves are driving you crazy. She's totally flirting with you! Then she goes, "Mind if I give you a quick tease?" Calm down sailor, she's just going to tousle your hair a little and then you have to leave. So while you may think it's out of hand to spend 500 bucks on a haircut, it's quite in your favor considering you leave the place with the "effects" of a lap dance.

Oh and by the way Sunny is a man's name too.

someone lend me some money..

You know how They say that "Everything in life has a purpose!"

.. now before you ask me who [They] are.. beats me.. i got no friggin' clue either..

Well I was in the shower today and got to thinking why do men have nipples? I mean they serve no real purpose... atleast not any that i can possibly think of.. its not like we men can lactate too..

:-/

FEm

I hate it when people ask me for my opinion and feel bad when i tell them the truth.. I'm brutally honest; if you don't want me to be honest, then don't ask me. I hate it when girls ask,
'What do you think about this top'? When I say its skimpy and it sucks, they're like ' Hey don't be mean its sucha pretty top and i like it, neha liked it and she's a fashion designer and she liked it and all my friends liked it. ' Unlike Neha, i'm not a designer. I'm no judge of tops and bottoms, so why ask me in the first place?
n then i used to have this other friend who always used to ask 'Do these pants make me look fat?' I'm like, 'No, your fat makes you look fat. All the pants' trying to do is get off you.'

n i also hate it when people take me for granted.. i try to be a nice guy and lend a couple books to a friend S and its been almost 2 months... not a word allthis while and when i finally ask for them.. comes the reply.. "Fine, you can have 'em after two days".. as if she doing me a favor by returning them... [??] .. fine i can live with a li'l attitude.. but two days pass n still nothing... still no sign of my stuff!!! what am i.. running a free library or what// if she were a guy.. she would have got a much deserved kick in the butt long back..

but nevertheless i call her still cos i desperately need those books.. and here's what she has to say about it..

S: "Andy dont bug me yaar, i'm unwell"

Me: ''why what happened to you..''

S: ''Nothing!!'' [???!!!]

The above was repeated thrice during the course of that telephonic conversation. Now listen up, I'm not some sorta telepathic dude like one of those zero bodyhaired bald beings from that movie Minority Report to be able to understand whats wrongwith you and even them beings needed a poolful of molten jelly to do their thingy.

[I've had it with this S female cos she makes no sense and females as a rule generally dont make any sense whatsoever and here i take this opportune moment to define the word Female.. it can be deduced that a female is a male with a 'Fe' and what does this 'Fe' stand for..u might be wondering..the answer, my dear reader is Fe stands for inFErior.]

Yes, I am a Male Chauvinistic Pig and i wholeheartedly approve the above paranthesis.

so blow me.

.l..

Don't hold your farts in, because when you do, they go straight up to your brain and that's where you get your shitty ideas from.

how to grow a beard..

Occasionally, I've been known to be somewhat opinionated. Oops...just caught that typo in time. I have been known to be VERY opinionated. I have at least two opinions on just about every topic. I am sure there are times when people have felt like rearranging my face.Unfortunately [for them!] there is no legal method for them to do that.Being a kind and generous individual, I have been searching for ways to help these unfortunate victims of my over-active opinionation.Finally, I have found a way to rearrange my face.To help them out, I have grown a beard.

Here is how to grow a beard. [Ladies, please don't try this at home.Some so-called 'Ladies' i know neednt try at all.. they already have a beard n muchi n the works..] .. so here goes..

On Day 1, I did nothing.

On Day 2, I did nothing again.

On Day 3, Idid nothing twice.

On Day 4, I verified that nothing was still being done.

Then I simply repeated the cycle.It's been about two weeks, and my face is definitely rearranged.

To tell the truth, the decision to grow my beard was not just to atone for my hyperopinionation. In fact, what I really wanted to do was to see how I looked in a beard. Curiosity is the real reason I have been growing a beard.Oops... there I go, catching a typo again.that line should have read:
"Laziness is the real reason I have been growing a beard."

Truth be told, I did the four-day nothing cycle more by accident. When you have nobody to impress, the days can just kindof get away from you. Before I knew it, I had the foundation of a growing beard.That's when I got curious. And lazy.

Anyway,I think my curiosity is settled. I am still lazy, but I am ready to shave off my beard. Unfortunately, my girlfriend hasnt yet seen it, so I am keeping it on by special request until she can see it. Dueto a heavy schedule, that visit might be a while.
Oops. Silly me... i have saved me from inaccuracy once more. I just realised that due to being too lazy to shave my beard, that visit might be a while... and i waitaminnit... who girlfriend...??? :?

But i shall definitely shave tomorrow, because its madhulika's engagement and im gonna get butchered if i turn up in my present avataram.. what if i dont get let in cos i look like a goon... can't let all that food goto waste kada.. ;)

over n out

thinkin...

There was a long involved chain of thought that went through my head. It was curiously enlightening.

It started from a question of whether taking human life in any form is bad. Or in other words, is it possible to take one of jesus sayings like love your enemy or something like that and carry it to a logical conclusion that would end up being the total antithesis of what he meant. Bear with me.. i know im not making much sense just yet. So is there any reason human life should be sacrosanct? or are there any laws that we have that God should be bound by. It only seems fair... that God abide by the same rules he expects us to keep. and yet, they say it doesnt work that way; if we displease him, he can send us off to burn.
but we end up being his creation and so many things about our universe are arbitrary and fixed. the way we are.. the way God is.. and that makes all the difference.The simple fact is, you dont go to hell if you do wrong... you go to hell if you dont choose God. Hell is not punishment, it is existence without god.. and while proponents of God try to paint a scary picture of Hell, opponents argue that Hell is not really hell. They are convinced that existence apart from god is possible. and so we have the great divide.You must choose one or the other. and on this hangs your life.. the real issue i want to draw attention to is our resistance to being coerced. Yes, if God really forces me to decide, i might choose my own way apart from God. its how we are..and its definitely how I am and i think feeling that God is forcing us is why so many of us dont want God...who wants to be forced to kneel... to have your pride broken.. to grovel like some slave...
The real sticking point in my head is that when I think of the statement.. God makes all the decisions ultimately, or God decides who goes to heaven and who doesnt, it bothers me that he should have that power. I'm upset by it too, when i think about it. i mean, really, what right does God have to do such things? its no use telling me he created me... if he created me with free will, then it should be perfectly possible for me to become independent... isnt it strange that God would provide that and not the means to attain independence from him... ??

think about it.

Sex Ed.

When I was in the 8th grade, I had the biggest crush on my physics teacher Lakshmi ma'am. was she H.o.t or what.. that extremely sexy sari, hair casually tied in a ponytail, that midriff, i used to get lost in her eyes... and that look of hers.. maaan what I wouldn't have given for the chance at a little extracurricular tutoring with her [wink wink].. which is why I find this to be much ado about nothing. Maybe its because I'm a guy, but I think there's a huge difference between a male teacher sleeping with a female student and a female teacher sleeping with a male student. And a female teacher sleeping with a female student is always fine and dandy with me but not the other way round.. ewe.
so here's to all those hot teachers [i've been blessed with tons of 'em]..opportune moment to take some of their names.. miss pratibha, miss rama, mrs. vandana, vrinda ma'am lakshmi ma'am from school and suhasini ma'am from st.mary's.. and if i've forgotten to mention anybody, then i'm sorry, i shall make up for it in my fantasies.. myuhaha/

Fan Appreciation!!!

I don't know where i would be if it weren't for my fans.. Fans help me sleep at night... because i can't stand the room being hot and stuffy with the insecurity of a failed blog. Having just received a strange email from someone in blore telling me that i write really well, and having not written anything worthy in a good while, and having lapses in my sinyasi Posts,it surefeels good...

a little[?] introspection..

soul searching, some call it. i dont want to get that deep here, i just want to examine motive and intent. the self induced ravings of free speech and its bondage.

i wonder why i write, sometimes, in those lost moments, the questions fill my head, as i pore over snatches of conversation, wondering at nuances, thinking, why do i even bother, if i ignore it, it will all go away. but it doesnt, and i do, and its all meaningless, meaningless, meaningless, under this ball of fire we call the sun. eh??

i write and i write, and i do not know who reads this. a few of my friends maybe, and a few strangers who wander across the blogworld. my friends know me and are my friends anyway. the strangers, are strangers until we communicate [which unfortunately nobody has done yet]. and then there is an indeterminate quantity of readers, that i like to posit at zero for my own sanity, who probably read these posts and proceed to form opinions. lol, may i point out that a strong reason to posit zero is that i get no comments from this third group of readers... actually i get no comments on my blog at ALL... which brings me to my motivation for writing... i wish i could say that i dont crave attention, but i'll give myself the benefit of doubt and declare i'm a closet exhibitionist. if blogging's the only way to flash you, then i must blog. what irked me, [ love that word.. irk] was being accused of it in a sly way, as if it's somehow wrong, or even that doing this helps me somehow. other than being a place to vent... somehow, i'll get famous among my peers, by blogging... in inimitable hyderabadi style. AS IF. as if i care about fame. as if my words are addressed only to hydeys.. as if i need anything more, than to say my words.

And that brings me to an argument i seem to rake up every so often with this friend of mine. Does an artist create his work for the audience or himself?

i submit, for himself. my words are strung together not for people to read and say oooh, but so that i can feel the shape of the words running through my mind, the sparkle of little word gems, the heft and warp of the skein i weave with syntax and grammar. like my God, i delight in creation. and just like him, i must. Create.

And that is my excuse to segue into those little tirades that roll around in my head. sometimes people suck, especially me. and sometimes, i'd rather whine. and sometimes, i'd rather not talk in the commonplace manner we've all become accustomed to. and my blog must reflect that. ahh, i wish i knew what the point of this post was. i sort of stopped posting because i didnt want to feel pressured into writing. every so often, i just about find enough inside me to fuel a post. about the only thing i can aspire to is Truth. bear with me. i will use everything, including your comments.

I hope some chicks read this and proceed to make contact.. :D

Now in Pink..!!

Here's the situation:I'll be sitting in my usual 'work' position,in which i put my legs on the table infront of my sofa while watching TV.i leave my feet on the floor,because i have detachable legs.

No,seriously,my legs are attached to my feet,which are propped up on my table while i ponder the kind of question that,in my role as a leading opinion maker,i am often called upon to answer,such as who is the ultimate beech.. is it Jassi / Parvati/ Kashish / or that callcentre bimbo ?

While i am pondering over this, my phone rings. I answer..I hear the caller say.."grppllebbeplleekisht"Unfamiliar with the language the caller was conversing in i hang up..

Now People,I have no problem completing level fifty in FreeKick on my cellphone. When I need to listen to an mp3 in it,its ready. If i wanna take pix or an mms vid of that hot chick who stays in the flat behind my home, its there in handy. When I want to use it as a walkie-talkie so I could pretend to be a GI Joe like I did when I was four, even that's no problem. In fact, my cellphone lets me do just about everything except have a simple conversation.

Thanks for all the extra features guys, but it doesn't really matter when I still have to climb on top of the roof wearing a tinfoil jumpsuit to get decent reception.By the way, Why the hell are you pink now.. doesn't make any difference does it.. Pink is a slutty colour!! not like i'll get better reception if i wear pink... will i??

Don't forget what the primary purpose of a cellphone is: To ANNOY people in movie theaters and it irritates me even more when i see my service provider's advertisements..i mean Who the hell wants a dog following you wherever you go i mean come on.. you don't want a mutt sniffing about your ass when you're in the loo.. thats just plain perverted.

but then if you like such things i think you have some serious fetish problems to sort out... I recommend some medical attention..to the dog.. myuhahaha!!!!

By the way, just in case you're still wondering, the answer's Tulsi!!

HUTCH..CHEEE!!!! god bless me.. :D

sthothram...

you know how a lot of telugu christians say sthothram all the time.[ for all the non-christians/ non-telugus, sthothram is the telugu word for praise . Sthothram is pronounced ssthothrum - sss from snake, th from thick, o from raw, thrum like thrum... so it comes out sthothram sthothram]//

got me thinking...

don't these people say sthothram all the time. like its a chant... to keep the devil away and praise god or something lathat...

and then i thought about how people say oh god all the time too.. the english equivalent ie.

and with a one track mind like mine which thinks abt [u-know-what] most of the time it seemed natural to wonder how oh god gets used...and i wondered if ppl say sthothram the same way...

sthothram sthothram sthothram sthothram sthothram sthoTHRAm sTHoTHRAm STHOTHRAM SthOTHRAM STHOTHRAMSTHOTHRAM STHOTHRAM OOOO sthothram.. :/

that would be some weirdass shit.. hehe

i hope you forget about this by the time you're in church and you hear all the sthothrams.

just making a comment about how even the best things can become meaningless and then ridiculous...

EWES!!!

just how do you pronouce that word? out loud.
ewwwwwwwwws?
eoooooooos?
eveees?

i had the greatest difficulty reading this out loud in church. i rarely read out loud in church.but i had to do it for the evening sermon. this time i thought i'd go for it, since it was sunday night, and not a whole lot of people were there. not cos im shy or anything, just not a reader outter of the bible in the church-er.
it was the verse with 200 cows, 30 bulls, 50 donkeys etc... and apparently there had to be 200 ewes as well... so i see it and it suddenly pops into my head that it sounds just like a plural ewwwww..
unfortunately, i'm already committed and i have to finish reading. so i'm reading two hundred female goats and twenty male goats, two hundred ewes and right there i start spluttering, trying not to laugh out loud, because pastor Daniel is sitting there and i dont need to get into shit with him. i just hit a mental brick wall right there. it was like an ewe came and kicked me in the balls err.. head. i could not say that word for the life of me without laughing...finally, i limped through the rest of the verse, and it was never mentioned again.

this is exactly why i dont go to church regularly..

methinks we need to change the pronounciation to evays or evees or anything.. Oxford are ya listenin to me..


what a start to a [Happy New Year]..