Friday, September 15, 2006


Quick acknowledgement in the face of scary accusations of plagiarism:

The credit for title of previous post "Post party-um Depression", must be duly shared with one Giggly Items whose beautilful blog is linked on the right.
It has taken offence that I have passed it off as mine without so much as a blink. Well, well, well. I am blinking like anything. Like Bertie, in fact. I have no qualms in admitting that great minds think alike and that, in our case, dearest Giggles, even at the exact same time. Mooahahaha.

Guess we'll have to mud-wrestle to decide this one.
On that optimistic note, have a supaar weekends. Ta!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Post party-um depression

My dearest Tits and Jakkur Jazz,
It was wonderful and am gladdest for you rascals. Yay! Joy! My cups runneth over! Let the madness nevvver, evvver cease. For shuvvvvar.

Aw, Mithai-di, we miss you like anything. It was insanely nice meeting you and the rest of the loonies. Except that now, and for a month on at least or till my next PMS, whichever kicks in first, I'll be in a blue funk. [And when i say blue, I DO NOT MEAN PORNOGRAPHIC. Lillah!]
A beedi will never be looked at in the same off-hand, perfunctory way again. No other nape will ever be looked at, period. Sniffle.

Boomsa went back to Monarch's last night and stole your bedsheets, just so you know.

Come off, fast fastly. In the meanwhile, I'll make a preparatory trip to Blush.... Rrrrrrrr.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

So long, maestro.

You have given us great joy.
Tashkor, Hrishida.
So, I really love these guys.

Can someone get them to come over? Please? For a small little private concert here in Bangalore?

Thanks very much.
Black Veil, Long

Monday, August 28, 2006

How Green Is My Valley. Larks!

Ma and Abba are having a grand time up in the mountains. Them and their frund-couples from the last generation, having relievedly [and finally] dispensed with such afflictions as: [1] Us kids, [2] Us kids' weddings/educations/miseries, [3] Each family's private scandals and heartaches, have all come to that beautiful phase of life where, hopefully, it's all done with.
They're having a mad picnic in a place untouched by silly things as electricity, noise, and yes, even the wrong kind of people. There is a grounded goodness in our villages that one can only hope never dies. Ma's giggling over the phone yesterday telling me about it warmed me to the cockles of my heat, whatever that means. She was telling me about all those things I remember from my holidays there: misty days, cold breeze, hurts-your-eyes-green hills, sweet water springs, wooden cottages, bonfires, buffaloes, sheep and.... the inevitable- shish kebabs and barbecues! [Mooahaha. Sorry, Giggly.]
We are lucky to have that beautiful village on top of that remote mountain. Where Abba spends a lot of the year being a Son of the Soil. He revels in it. It has taken years off his considerable years. By the time I'm as old as him, I'll probably need an voice-driven wheelchair and 12 helpers. (I shall make sure they are good-looking and well-toned just for the heck of it.) But there be's my pater, swinging a scythe with the best of them. Turning over leaves in the apple orchards looking for tell-tale signs of things only he knows. Watching the movement of bees to predict whether we'll have honey this year. Sitting outside the village mosque after the evening prayers with friends, telling tales. [Some tall tales, granted, but...] He's happy and I'm happier for him.
As for Ma, if anyone ever deserved a break from life, she did. She's taken our family through it all. She is the mother from The Grapes of Wrath. I think a million times to myself, "How much more can she take?" And then I promptly go and add my own little two-bit to her world of troubles. There's a beautiful, she is. What I mean to say is, I hope we're done tormenting her for the anon. That laugh of hers yesterday- it was gorgeous.

Here's to you, my Parentals. Enjaii like anything.


It is so tiring to have to be pleasant and chirpy allll the bleddy time. It is.
Sometimes I don't want to, okay?

Friday, August 25, 2006

So, yesterday was an old, old Friend's birthday. From way back when I was a gawky, unsure teenager. I mean, she used to be a friend though I won't say we were ever tight. It's just that growing up with someone, no matter how weak the link be, feels like a whole new feel when you look back years later. So anyway, it was her hap-birthday. And it was an annual ritual of mine to write her a few wishful words on her big day. No matter that the greetings weren't ever returned or that we really had nothing else to say otherwise. Whatever. I liked to wish my friends, and I would. It was my thing.
Except all of that changed last year. What with leaving an unspeakably ugly phase of my life behind, severing ties with an Unwholesome Lot of People [ULP] I am glad to be rid of- [definitely very Killable - have formed vivid, graphic, and eerily doable plans of how to dismember, hang, quater etc. etc. one particular Festering Individual among them all, and say victoriously at the end of the Operation: "Said Fester Has Been Neutralised."]- it just so happens that leaving the Ugly also made me leave a large portion of the Nice behind. Persons from the Past I actually really liked, old acquaintances, a whole photo-montage of faces that I have grown up with. A whole childhood worth of memories. Have tied them up in pretty purple string and locked them in a cabinet. But the cabinet is at eye-level. And it has a glass door, so I cannot entirely forget.

'Tis a shame, what else? Tsk tsk.

So, on that note, Happy Birthday, Old Frund.
(And to hell with the rest of you!)

"A loss of something ever felt I—
The first that I could recollect
Bereft I was—of what I knew not
Too young that any should suspect

Elder, Today, a session wiser
And fainter, too, as Wiseness is—
I find myself still softly searching
For my Delinguent Palaces—"

-Emily Dickinson

Thursday, August 17, 2006

It's a bleddy shame!

Getting your period very young

Makes you wise beyond your years
Makes you cries a lot of tears
Makes you lies to your peers
Makes you wish you was not heres
Makes you aches everywheres

If only I had got a comma instead.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

I learnt the same stuff as everyone else in school
Then Life taught me other things
And Boomsa still udders

Dear Mad Cow
It is nice living with you.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Cheers and good luck!

A not so nice month

Actually, a very bad one. I speak of the first week of July through to the first week of August.
In no particular order, recent events that have really disturbed one :
-The Mumbai blasts. Inhumans, sullying the name of religion, and what's more, the whole world lapping it up so that now Islam=Terrorism=Jehad and some such claptrap. My friends and I talk about this often and it is relieving to know that they DO understand that that's not the equation, but really, how many people do? Or care? This is the pits. Especially since I for one, am proud as dammit of Islam.
-Israel: Has 2 soldiers kidnapped and unleash an unbelievably cruel assault on Lebanon as the world watches and the US [but of course!] pats its back. Hello? Civilians being killed. Women and kids in Qana. I suppose state-backed terrorism is okay because really, what else can one call this? Growl.
-Yet another tsunami hits Indonesia. This time round, it doesn't even make it to the front page of any newspaper.
-Alonso doesn't win any and Schumi takes many. Damn it!
-Sania hasn;t been winning ANYTHING either. What's up with that? I'm a big fan ever since I've seen her play up close and personal. Very infuriating to see her throw it all away. Over and over.
-More locally: Deeply respected guru-entity Long Legs left work. Mins like, all louww for her. Deeply saddened [to a surprisingly extreme degree] by her departure etc. and was in blue funk for days. Shortly followed by departure of another old hand, Long Locks, which sort of takes care of the Age of Experience at the Orifice. Feel especially bad for the Reams who pines and weeps silently in her deserted aisle.
-Felt a little at sea after the Mater left for back home. Little at sea means sadness.
-There were other things I'm sure, that made it distasteful, but I forget. Waste.

On a high note, after the dreaded past month, the 2nd week of August on is looking pretty spiffy. My dorling Boomsa has moved in with me. That makes it three mad cats in our cosy flat: Skinny, Boomsa and I. We are parting with all borrowed furniture of yore, and Boomsa and I have been frantically running around procuring essentials. Skinny is on work in the US of [barf] A. She'll be surprised when she gets back. As a helpful note to personalities looking for cheap treasures to strew around the house, I suggest you head to Shivajinagar and discover the whole new world you'll see there. It is a lovely!

And now, enough.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Infancy conforms to nobody: all conform to it, so that one babe commonly makes four or five out of the adults who prattle and play to it.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

But I still want babies. Maybe more than ever now.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Outlook, the perv

Tells me strange things like "You have unopened items."
[High five, Giggly!]
Mah dear Giggly. You are now linked.


Friday, July 07, 2006

Welcome, Hanan The Barbarian

This site be's top secret for Orifice entities. Unless specially invited by moi.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Dear Tits...

It HAS been very long. I have been out of commission for a while, meaning I haven't had the split second required to update my blog.
Post arrival and grand news of fraternal foray into the higher reaches of Academia, the next bright spot in my last month has been esteemed arrival of my Parentals. They have brought with hem bonhomie, warmth and many many cheesy jokes which only us in our nuclear family enjoy and appreciate like nobody's business. We try it out on others as well, but.... No, no, let us not go there.

So anyway, the Mater has firmly entrenched herself in the kitchenette. So far, no one is complaining. Burping, yes. But complaining? No.
The Pater slowly imbibes the morning newsies from 0600 hours till well past 0900. With the tripe that our fascinating dailies have in them, I can only feel pained at what he has to sift through to make sense of the nonsense. With the grand exception of Jug Suraiya's JUGULAR VEIN for which I pine each week till its appearance in the Sunday Times.

Hope the Parentals don't get bored. We flock run out of the house to college and work in the mornings and return home disgruntled in the eves. What do they do in the meanwhiles? They relax, they have funs, and most importantly, they play cards against each oher! Moooahahahah. I love it.
We have taught them the way out of the back-of-beyond where my sister's digs are, so in case of dire boredom, they CAN always escape into a more meaningful part of civilization.

Yesterday we took them to a nice little resort out on Hosur Road. This place is not your run-of-the-mill weekend retreat for pampering and luxury. It is primarily an activity-related joint, and let me be more clear and say that these activites are sports. Hah.
So, we played badminton for a couple of hours, where Abba [being the Pater] whipped our collective arses and made us introspect sheepishly on our idea of our own fitness and skill. Then we took in a below par lunch buffet. Post lunch we all trudged to the tennis courts where we played an initial lacklustre few games, but towards the end we really had a nice go at it.
The Fraternal figure, being Usman, whupped our collective arses on this front.

The boys [being an Usman and a cousin Suhail] then frolicked and splashed about outrageously in the swimming pool while we sophisticated elders stylishly unwound on the sun loungers by its side.
Then the Rain gods had a party and poured like there was no tomorrow. In a bit we collected stray items of foowear, underwear, rainwear and other suchlikes and made our way back to Home Sweet Home. [When I say we collected stray pieces of miscellaneous, I of course mean to say that it was our stuff that had strayed and not any random pieces of underwear etc. that we found about the resort! Hmmph. As if.]

So today.... it is the morning after, and strange and interesting body parts are aching. I feel I have discovered several new muscles in my bum and back-shoulder region. Sorely, this shall soon be over!

I shall now get back to the first priority in my current life. Mins like, works is worships.

PS: Tits, have many funs in the Chennai, but don't you dare comment on pre-marital sex or safety measures to be used whilst so indulging! Take lessons from recent history.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Yay! My brotherly louww is now a college boy.
Let the games begin....
Qestion of the day: How hot is Anthony Hopkins?
Answer: Very.

Friday, May 19, 2006


Frundhsips. Hullo, hullo.

Am updating at the behest of one kind Sir Vaibhav.
Unfortunately, have nothing to say really. Yes.... such is the excitement I experience in my life and times.

Let's say the most fun thing I've been doing in the past few weeks has been gallivanting around town with my little brother, who is now almost a foot taller than me. Life is unfair. Here's a 14-year-old strapping lad at 6 feet [what!!!!] and here am I, barely scraping the line at 5'3". BAWL!
We've been off for movies, to my favorite eat-outs, to musical almost-shindigs: TAKE 5 - a failed evening], to shoot hoops at the Amoeba stalls and win tonnes of tickets with which we then buy Snickers bars, and finally, we hang at home and play games on X-Box. He whups my ass all the bloody time.
He's a good lad. I have high hopes for him. He shan't be falling prey to the vices and immoralities of depraved drug-induced moronic somewhats. He has a steady head on his shoulders.
My main agenda in life for the anon is to get him into a nice scholl/college.
Where he will indulge in some curricular and many extra-curricular activities, thereby developing into a wholesome, well-rounded, interesting and not-annoying personality. Sigh. Yes. I have big smoky dreams for my baby.

How boring id this, I say. Do you guys really want to read bout my fermenting maternal instincts? Noooooo.
Over and out.

PS: Sir Vaibhav, see you around, maybe.
[I might pop in to Bombay soonly. MIGHT. It's a plan in my head.]

Friday, April 28, 2006

Sigh. I know, I know. Had Fernando won this past weekend, I would have splashed my joy across all pages of the blog. Turns out that creep Schumi manged to keep him a nose behind for a lot of the time. Even to the end! Crikey.
Still. Now that I am well and truly over the bittersweet result of Sunday, here's my warm-fuzzy recipe. Guaranteed to bring a goofy grin on the mug of any aesthetically sensitive humanoid.Enjaaaaii.

Saturday, April 22, 2006


May I just say it does not become an establishment to employ grumpy, snooty [and godawfully ugly] men as maitre des. Especially when said grumpy fart has no point to his existence except to annoy the bejeesus out of refined, suave, classy diners, such as ourselves.
Am making public the slip-shod treatment meted out to us jolly office-mongers, when we headed out to Mainland China, Church Street for much raved about lunch buffet.

All arrangements were smoothly executed the previous day. Over phonery items.

ME: Hi, yadda yadda yadda, nice weather, blah blah blah, do you still have a weekday lunch buffet at your fine dinery, kind lady?
KIND LADY RECEPTIONIST: Yes, of course, why not give it a shot? Alive and kicking as anything.
ME: Right ho, then expect around 30-40 of us from my orifice on the morrow. What shall be the financial damages?
KIND: INR 195/- per head, plus taxes.....

[long pause]

ME: Yes, I'm still waiting. So what will be the final financial damages, and let me be crystalline this time: how much INCLUDING taxes?
KIND: Oh, err, yes, of course. That comes to INR 219/- per head, Ma'am.
ME: [stiffly] Yes, thank you. It's a done deal, then. Let's shake on it.
KIND: Err....

So, anyway, any astute legal minds out there will notice that no stone was left unturned. All factoids were clarified, like butter. Weekday, check. Lunch Buffet, check. Cost per head, check.
In this glowing frame of mind, official invites were mailed out to orificers.

Come next day, and we folks [substantially lesser than 30-40, of course. That was just an empty threat] pranced off in the blasted heat to said restaurant. At the door we were kindly welcomed inside by a personality whom I assume was KIND LADY from previous day's conversation.

All looked rosy until then. The A/C had just begun to soothe frayed nerves. The faux Oriental music that they play in all such joints was mildly amusing. The ambience was building to a beautiful something-and-all when... when KIND LADY of our memoirs disappeared and a horrific substitution in the form of GRUMPY FART turned up. With nary a smile, and as if the weight of the whole weight rested on his podgy shoulders [and his podgy shoulders alone] he whisked us up and away to the 2nd floor of the dinery, away from the other human patrons enjoying their food items. His side of the story was it was "JUST FOR US." Aw shucks.

So anyway, that surprise being smoothly taken into stride, we were guided to a long row of tables attached bumper to bumper, so that at any point of time if Person A from the Left wanted to get up, the entire row of people on his side would have to shift base so he/she could move. This idea not being conducive to our sense of freedom and whatnot, we asked many times that the tables be rent asunder so that we, the jolly diners, could easily wander hither and thither. I mean, the whole essence of a buffet is you keep on jumping out of your seat to first survey the spread, then return to report your findings to your friends, then go back to clarify some minute details you had forgotten to check on your first soiree,and from then on, to get your first, second, third and fourth helpings. Right?
Our Lovely Shady Grumps had decided in his mind tha it would be better if we all just sat down at the beginning of our meal, and that instead of the Mahomet going to the mountain, the mountain would indeed come for us! That is to say, he said we should plonk ourselves fixedly on our seats, and that the buffet would be served to us at the table.

Ummm. Sorry, what?

Obviously, this threw the whole festive buffet atmosphere right out the window. But Grumps persisted. After our 3rd attempt at explaining to him that No, really, we'd LIKE to go for the buffet ourselves, we gave up. We were, after all, only human in the face of this monstrosity.

Only concession made: We got about a half foot of space in between tables. For what joy, I shall never know to my dying day.

So to cut a bloody long story short, the buffet came to us in painstakingly slow and unappetizing instalments. First, weak ,watered-down and warmish mocktails arrived. After about 3 years, the starters came. For a while after that again, nothing. Then soup. Followed by another thumb-twiddling episode. To preempt any further inexplicable waiting, we asked GRUMPO if he could please speed things up. Soddy fellow got slightly uppity. I believe he believes that the longer you take to serve your fooderies, the classier your joint will seem.
Sir? That is a fallacy. Please keep in mind for further use and pleasure.

The food in itself wasn't bad. Not to say it was excellentissime,, either. Just about so-so. And of course, we couldn't get rid of the niggling doubt that there were 13 more secret dishes on the buffet that they weren't letting us get a peek at. Grass-grosser-greener-side-theory.

All in all, on a scale of 1-10, that meal gets an overall rating of a piffling 4.78, purely on the merit of some good ol' Chinese fare.
The fact that we had to hand around spoons, knives, forks, plates, glasses and every other thing on the table for about half the time we were eating, didn't help matters. The waiters couldn't reach, you see. Too tight a fit. See above for half-foot spatial arrangements.

The clincher was, in the middle of all of this, a tragic incident occurred with a waiter shattering a glass of drinking water right at the feet [and trousers] of our belle of the ball that day- one Ms. L. Perfect shocked expression she had, as would make any thespian proud.


When the bill came, KIND LADY'S promise to me over the phone struck gold. 'Twas exactly as we had planned it. About the only part of the meal that was.
With a heavy heart we decided to leave tips for the poor incompetent waiters working under the whip of GRUMPS. For GRUMPS himself, we had no tip, no words, no nothing, no anything. We just wanted to leave him be.

Hope you read this someday, GRUMPO. And suffferrrrrrrr.....

Saturday, April 15, 2006

My brotherly love has arrived in town!
*supaar backward flip, triple somersault and perfect landing!*

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Ranting. And also Raving.

Watched another couple of back-to-back Sex and the City episodes last night and realised why I don't try to catch it anymore. Am fully convinced that I completely dislike the show and the characters in it. Especially the whiny, confused, spoilt city-brat Sarah Jessica Parker-character. Or nympho blonde. Or deserves-to-have-sense-slapped-into-her-brunette. About the only bearable character is redhead. Sometimes. [She's one of them.....]
But really. This is a show I will never ever be able to relate to, on any level. Plus there's not a story line in sight anywhere. [Fans might argue that there isn't supposed to be one. Oooooooo-kay then!] Plus, when Whiny Parker does her laptop writing-narration bit, I find it puerile and silly as dammit. I mean, really, it sucks. More than anything else I feel like kicking myself for having wasted more time on watching the damned show.

PS: With the great big deal made about her [Aha! Her charcter's name is Carrie! I got it at last!] Carrie's sense of style, I find her wardrobe atrocious at times. Many times. Mins like, vaaaandi comes to me.

Disclaimer: This is not to say I have hostile feelings towards any of the actresses. I'm sure they'll do nicely elsewhere. I just find the characters in this show to be "eeeeyuk". I kid you not.

Monday, April 03, 2006

And again!

Nyahahahah. This is a guten year.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Monday, March 27, 2006

And in other news....

Went to The Octopus on a Sunday Kroak Night for the first time, after hearing many nice things about it in the not-so-distant-past. Have to say, amidst heart-rending sobs and other whatnots, my insides did a double flip before finally taking the deep plunge into uber-cess.
The joint was flooded with Spinn-offs, bimbettes in contempt-inducing wardrobe and expressions, undergrown boy items with spwarks in their hair-ishtyles, flaky bits of coversation [vaaaandi!] and all-in-all, many many things that I utterly think ruin many a good evening. And have the potential to for many more.
Notwithstanding that my fruit punch costs thrice as much as a chilled-beeru, which I can understand if I'm given the right ambience and good music, the place was packed with humanities and most of its dregs. Plus, the music was, erm.... yes.

Give me lovely talentful nights of Boomsas, Ostriches, Shankies, Sherils, and yet others any old day. Mins like, so long as what I remembered of the nice old place can live peacefully in my head at least.

Ye gods, I cannot begin to tell you the horrors. And what's more, NO SHEESHAH. Waste, I say.

Friday, March 24, 2006

I asked Tits the other day whether she was overwhelmed by her new work-digs. Turns out she wasn't. Which is not to say she was underwhelmed. [Although that is what she claimed at the end of Day 1 there.]

I believe Tits was just about Whelmed. Which would mean she slipped in smoothly and comfortably into her new shoes. Same to same like me. I believe I was whelmed in just the right amount when I joined this here workplace. Like a smooth operator. Err, yes.

So what have we learned today?
Dear Thirtha

Happy Birthday. Very.

Monday, March 20, 2006


Err. This is what I have had to work on for the past week or so.
Highly substandard fare. C-Grade moving down to D-Grade.

But in retrospect, very amusing. Check out the interesting tint of green.
Thy're stepping up software security at our workplace. And one of the silly measures being taken is cleaning out each system. That means our music. Naaaaaw! Not fair.
Don't they trust us? [Read as: I've already finished illegally downloading all the songs I want, they're stored beautifully in my D Drive, and I won't be secretly downloading more stuff in the near future, so Why? Why? Why?].
And anyway, how is my music going to hurt anyone? First of all, it's good music. And I swear upon many sacred things that my system hasn't slowed down any. Works like Speedy Gonzalves on speed. Eeks.

But... ugh.. sputter.. choke...

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Take it away, ladies

Or Take 5 at least.

Much funs were had at a lovely shady joint [shady implying dim lighting] on 100 Ft Rd yestereve.
I had a Cooli Mooli. Need more be said?

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Bye, Chy

Chy leaves this Saturday.
And we've had some great moments of utter and complete madness.
Have fun, longlegs. I shall miss you like anything and all.

Don't forget the masterplan. Earn millions in the Gelf, then come back here, collect me, and we head off to Japan for loafing, and just quite possibly, staying there.

Our earlier plan was a mansion in the Caribbeans, but we watched Memoirs Of A Geisha last night and it doesn't really take much to change our minds.

Speaking of which, it was a nice movie, and the surprise package [in addition to the obviouses of sweepingly beautiful visuals and soundtrack] was the actress who played Hatsumomo. Evil and drop-dead gorgeous. I think she's Gong Li or somesuch.

As for Ken Watanabe... I have loved you from The Last Samurai, good sir.
Hubba Hubba.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006


(Mins like better late than never.)

Whooooopeeeee!!!@!##@#!!%$?? for the 22nd. Such larks, Tits, such larks.
100 points to Pinaki for getting the perfect chocolate mousse cake to stuff our faces with after magnificent dinner.
Lovely to see JJ and Kash Disco Balls, The Bomb and her Eveready Reddy [!!!]. And of course the madness that is Aloks. Deedan was just thrilled to see The Bomb HAD a boyfriend in tow. Yahahaha.

Tum jeeyo hazaaron saal... [why? why? why would anyone want that?]

PS: Oink, Tits. Here's an old, old pic from the old, old days... Skirts for all us ladies. Me in blues, you in pinks. A mad girls'-night-out and our crazy stroll at 4 a.m. through the HAL bylanes. *Sniff*

[Remember when we got back home from Boibabh's restaurant, you found you still had the price tag on your new clothing items? *Titter titter*]

Monday, February 13, 2006

Tits came over to see after me in my time of being an eye-sore. Or rather, of having one. Zo zweet. We went to nearby Arabic food joint to pick up, err, food, for her folkses. I wore my shades and looked shady. I hope people thought I was a superstar and not a freak. This truth I will never know for certain.

This brings me to a deep, dark, disturbing thought which I must share with you,
my dear readers.
I strongly believe, and have for many years now strongly believed,
I swear, I get goosebumps [Not goosepimples- I never get pimples of any sort. Ha ha!] everytime I see him grinning maniacally, because I think he's having the last laugh. [Also because I don't really like any of his songs.]
This piece of information is not mend to offend anyone, but hey! We are SO BIG on freedom of expression nowadays. [$#@^^$@!!!!#^%&&$@@@!!!! with regards to that issue].

Dear Tits
Thanks for :
1]Coming to see me last eve. [Even if I couldn't really see you back.]
2]Getting me lovely bakery items.
3]Not giggling at me and my eyewear.
4]Cracking very bad jokes and larfing like 14 hyenas. [Abbreviated career!]
5]Attempted matchmaking dreams, in tandem with Jakkur Jazz.

6]But the clincher was..... *rolling on floor and choking to death types*... your lame-ass attempted lecture session, with expected catstrophic result. Please, Tits, nyahahahha. Tum bhi na kabhi kabhi.

Pls to come off anytime and all. It was much fun items.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

This too shall pass.

Pig sty.

=Big stye.

This kills my grand plans for promiscuous socialising over the weekend.

Thursday, February 09, 2006


Special dedication: Boomsa!

Monday, February 06, 2006

What a long it has been since my last sortie here...

Spoke with Febi yesterday. Was highly interested in physiological, intellectual spiritual and supernatural development of her little one, the Yasin.
The verdict: All systems are go, and how! Yay.

This weekend saw us beaming at a mad, mad Ian Anderson at the Tull show. What a joyousness he is. Slightly off in just the right portions. Had much funs.

However, splendid thought it may have been, the concert brought home to me
a sobering and disturbing realisation. That.... slowly but surely, I am getting decrepit, palsied, run-down, ramshackle, tottering and possibly rheumy-eyed. Personally, I like to think of myself as 'wizened.' Ha ha.
What I mean is, whereas in the not so distant past I would have been bouncing off the walls and turning cartwheels even after the end of an exhausting, acrobatic concert of mayhem and more, I find that now, in my ebb-tide,
I am spent as an overused debit card towards the end of a month.
It was like so. I was unbelievably pooped.
Perchance [and I say this more to console myself than anything else], it was because I haven't got much sleep for the past 6 moths or more. Accumulate that lack of sleep and it probably translates into Exhaustion and Fatigue, strange, miserable Neck And Shoulder Soreness and the Omnipresent Headache.

Then again, and I like this line of thinking better, it just means I need to get a regular weekly weekend massage to take away my pain and sorrow. Nyahahaha. I love this. Methinks it's a plan. Tits, come off. Let's reasearch some nice masseuse individuals with hygienic joints to help us out. Joints means 'place of work', not elbows, wrists, ankles and knees. Of course, they MUST ALSO be hygienic.

Enough. I must away.

Personalities in Bangalore, kindly suggest places of comfort and care where I may head out to this weekend.
Thanking you,
Yours Kindly,
The Long Black Veil.

Monday, January 09, 2006

New blog

After many important, interesting and infinitely busy days, here I am, back at the blogging mill. Hello, Sir Vaibhav.
Or as Pinaki The Kyoot pronounces it: Boibhabh.
Pinaki is Bengali [Ah!].
Many thanks for reminding me that I should get back to it.

Had the most outstandingly debauch day yetserday. 'Twas a Sunday, and for the first time in my new digs, I slept in late. Or relatively late, at 0930-10ish. Had interesting breakfast [have I mentioned I love cooking?] and then lazed around beauteously.
Sunday, being my Fun day, I folded sleeves [mine] and started on house-cleaning activities. [Say, did I mention I love house-cleaning?]
When house was rendered spick and also span, I moved the entity that is known as me to the bathroom. Also spruced up that mother.
From there on, it was all therapeutic bathing rituals. Had long, long, luxurious type of bath. Sans bathtub, but it was long and luxurious nevertheless. I have recently acquired interesting scented bath-soap from Fabindia. Had much fun with it.
Also have Palmolive Aromatherapy Shower Gel. By the end of it all had to open bathroom windows to allow for easy breathing.

Wrapped in my huge bath-towel, was traipsing around the apartment, till I realised [once more, yet again] that my hall curtains stood at a respectable distance from each other, thereby providing the Outsides with a wonderful view of the Insides. Thank the Lordy I couldn't make out any human forms with binoculars or telephoto camera lens. Although a couple of lecherous crows were hanging about looking shady.
I don't think they matter in the large scheme of things.

Once I gathered my wounded honour, thinking in my head to the imagined voyeurs: Kya tumhare ghar mein maan-behen nahin hai?, I finally put on comfy PJ's and headed for the kitchen. Made lip-smacking something and all for me.
Lounged about, read papers, put on musical items on... OOOH! I haven't mentioned it: I have acquired byootious Creative MuVo Slim Player from kind family members. Have a look-see.

Met up with Boomsa and the Elder Chandrasekaran, and whoo-hoo! old acquaintance from school era at a Daily affair. The Ostrich perched with us after a bit. Ate muchly and more. And yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy! Jai Boomsa. It is having grand, lovely, heartwarming newses. Yaaaaaaaaaaayyyy.

Then. Aameley.
Rushed back home to prettify my face for impending Dinner at college-era-frundship's house. Coorg deal. Very sweet parents, very nice to see the Coorg after so long, very nice time had by all and fabulous dinner items.
Stuffed to the gills, and Tits dropped me home sweet home after.

Highlight of evening. On spur of moment, Tits and me bought the Coorg a dil-shaped balloon with "I Love You" written on it, from traffic junction en route to her place. Much funs it was.

I am tired. You must be too.
This ends my weekend update.