dead man moonwalking...

cherubims & seraphims beware!

It's NOT mean if you make fun of a dead pedophile junkie!
enough with the rips already, whats the world coming to?! just because the man (?) was an obscenely talented musician doesnt mean you overlook his actions & mourn his death. he dangled babies outta balconies, for crying out loud! and thats, like the least of his crazy acts. anyway, may MJ the musician r.i.p, while the world is now minus one ultra deranged psychopath & a better place for you and for me.

softly...

Softly the dew dropped from the leaf
signaling arrival of the morn,
tis dawn already?, exclaimed our hero
“I love my new stack of porn.”

I suspect that there is a black hole in my room that sucks up all my handkerchiefs and socks.

friday evening...

Carnatic music. Payasam. Bliss.

Chronicles of Shareef miyan

He started out without any worldly advantages in life, and had come up the hard way. Born to a rickshaw puller in Chintalbasti, he worked his way up the ladder of the hospitality industry – selling palli-bataani, onto chaat bandis, tea stalls, Irani hotels to when finally, by what only seemed to be the Grace of the mighty Prophet (PBUH), he landed a plush job in the climate-controlled environs of Café Coffee day, dsnr. Till one day, all his dreams came crashing down…

SM: Saar, order?
Customer: yeah, one café Latte!
SM: hou Laatu saar, kaunsa bolo?

Shareef miyan – done in by a classic case of Hyderabadi Tourette’s

ps: only a true hyderabadi can comprehend this joke.

As she stood...

As she stood at the bus-stop in Koti watching him walk away with another girl, a single sparkling tear fell from her cheek onto the footpath, then slid onto the side of the road, and into the drainage pipe, there to join its course into the not-so-mighty-anymore waters of the river Musi, and eventually the Hussainsagar, where that solitary tear splattered into his eyes, as the other woman playfully splashed water on him, as they were boating on the Khairunnisa.
Within 10 days, the man was rendered blind.

Morals of the story
#1: Never scorn a woman’s love.
#2: Never go boating in Hussainsagar's dangerous dirty waters
#3: Don’t read my blog expecting sensible stuff

Voices in my head

- "One child dies every minute from AIDS."
"Isn't that sad?"
"Hey, children shouldn't be having sex."
"They get it from their parents!"
"Their parents shouldn't be having sex with them!"

yes, we deserve a bullet in the head!

Hairy Situation

lent has started. usually i don't shave the whole 40 days. don't ask me why. i just don't do it.
maybe i wanna look like santa claus and confuse the kids just to prove a point.
but this time around, i forgot to do the customary clean shave before embarking on the path of anti-shave-it-ism.
its just been two days of lent and the last time i shaved was, pata nahi kab, so i look like a bearded bear and now i have landed myself in a hairy situation. i have some pretty important meetings lined up this weekend and now i am in a quandary.
this quandary is a place between where i'm sitting now and the nearest barber shop.
an important decision, no? do i sacrifice my ideals & my beliefs and go shave, will god forgive me, will i burn in hell? do i say a prayer - forgive me lord, for i have sinned, i have shaved, my face is naked, i am shamed. i don't know.
but i know one thing for sure and all the guys will agree with me on this. as a kid, i have always been excited to grow hair. I still remember when i was 13, and hair had just started sprouting in various places. Boy, was that fun. ! I would mark its growth, and fertilize and water it, hoping it would come just a little fuller.
Well CONGRATS to myself , because my wish has been fulfilled… about 6 times over in fact. At first i thought maybe it was just god's way of reminding you to do the sign of the cross. Face, crotch, armpit, armpit.
Awww, thank you Lord and Savior! But then what do u do when he goes a little overboard and draws the cross out all the way, and then extends it to your back like some kind of cross vest. Right now I've got a full robe made entirely of hair.

Wohkay I'm joking, it's not that bad… yet, but you may need to take precautionary action. When you wanna give me a hug, and my hair clings back, that's a little too much for me n maybe for you too..
But people, don't ask me to shave OH NO NO!! i'll just trim it a little if i feel so obliged. Personally I'm not ashamed of my hair. i am told chicks dig it.
dig on baybysu :)

except a webcam chat with her first thing in the morning.

the first one i've had with somebody in like forever.
just awesome.

nothing and i mean nothing beats reading a mail from her first thing in the morning :)

shit happens...







usually in the mornings.

sometimes during the day too.

god i hate getting up early. just received a pseudo-order from australia demanding that i wake up early so conversations may happen, early morning for me, nice sunny afternoon for her.
i am enn oh tee not a morning person ra.
unblink.

i used to blink when i was not in love

I believe, in my heart, that despite all the crap we go through in life, if you get up in the morning and work a little bit harder and a little bit better than the other guy, you will succeed.

invention has its own algorithm:
genius, obsession, serendipity, and epiphany in some unknowable combination.
how can you put that in a bottle?

lipstick... dipshtick... dickshit!

i met a woman today who was either
a) a vampire who just had blood for lunch
b) a human who just had blood for lunch.
c) an insecure woman with a boring face who decided to cosmetize her natural lips with an unnatural 'bright crimson hue', as described on her lipstick stick [?] or the color red, as non-discerning men like me would call it.

my discerning readers have already realized what i'm talking about - today's topic: what is with Red lipstick and women who wear them?
there are very few people who look good in red lipstick, and those clowns usually juggle for a living. of course, there are a few women who are able to pull it off - dimple kapadia and madhuri dixit. but the fact remains, red lipstick looks horrible on most women, and all men.
there have been literally thousands of names for the same color of lipstick over the years. yet there are only about three shades of red - dark red, red and light red. Period. And i mean that grammatically, not menstrually. although the context of it makes sense now that i think about it.

i dread the day a new lipstick brand launches into the market and they hire me to come up with names for their same-yet-different-shades of red lipsticks. how does menstrual red sound?

over n out

siamese twins... what happens if one dies before the other? does the other one have to lug the corpse around?

naturalism vs evolution

Apparently you can remove three-quarters of your liver and it can regenerate into a full liver again.
Either God created men like this so we can drink or men evolved into this so we can drink.

once upon a time, a drunk dude stood on a mound at durgam cheruvu to pee. as the urine gushed out, he savored the simple joy of a Pee Brr - that wonderful one-second shiver that comes and goes without warning. Long after he was done saying hello to nature, he stood there... marvelling at the Pee Sprinkle pattern that formed on his shoes.. till, like all things wonderful, the pattern disappeared... and he returned.. his bladder empty, his soul in bliss, his body invigorated, his mind hazy, and his drunk ass still drunk!!! :D

"Sorry i haven't written anything in a while"
wait... why am i wasting your time with apologies?
the best apology's probably 'new and improved' content. But does that mean what i used to blog back then was shit? i dont think so.
What i probably need this time around is just a wee bit more consistency. Okay. Lots of consistency. Shit loads of it!
Alright boy! Pick a schedule you can live with. and Stick to it!
but wait again... no more substandard crap posts. no more 'what to write', 'nothing to write' , 'i can write', 'i cannot write' posts !!!!!!!!!!
promise? promise! mdp? mosquito dead promise macha!
wohkay... cya around then

I was once captivated by the things you'd say.
Just thinking about you, would brighten up my day.
Now it seems as if all that has changed.
The only thing you do, is cause me more pain.
I wish I had known who you really were.
It wouldn't have been so hard.
The agony inside me, makes it hard to breathe.
The impact you had, was so hard to believe.
Now the walls are there, forever guarding my heart.
If only they'd been there, to protect it from the start.