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.