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.