Wednesday, December 23, 2009


Allow me to introduce you to the anti-resolutions.

It's something like French beer. Sure it exists, but do you really want to try it? And then like the wise kid said "there's only one way to find out...".

So why not? Why not a year full of indulgences, excesses and beating the nagging, creeping desire of improvements to a pulp. And then drinking that pulp while eating bacon and sausages. Caviar on the side. After all what's breakfast without tiny fish eggs, eh?

I'm assuming you're going to try and lose some weight...why not, the world and his wife's doing it. And perhaps eat more vegetables, be nicer to people, do something or the other for society.

But that's sooo 2009.

The coming year is all about change. The crazy kind. The wild thing kind. So come join us if you don't want to miss out on the caviar. Ok so caviar tastes horrid and is only a fad. But the bacon. Oh the bacon.

And the baskin icecream, the nirula HCF, the clothes, the splurging on unnecessary but yet essential things, the many different alcohols you haven't tried. We're guessing french beer couldn't be all that bad. Your body is crying out for them. Screaming for them. If only you could hear it.

Don't worry about the beer belly or the cholestrol or the hangovers. We'll get rid of them in 2011 (man, that'll be a boring year).

Oh and Conor Oberst's back. Fuck, things are looking excessive already. I'm soaking it all in. One caviar egg at a time.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Mr. Pitiful

There's a story that the old men of the Sahara tell. But they tell it very rarely. For they believe that repeating the story diminishes the message it carries.

But tell they must. At least once in their lives. That apparently is their burden and that is how it has been for ages past.

They're not sure what the message it carries really means. Most reckon that it's been repeated so many times, it's already diminished in its essence. While some think it's something that man wasn't meant to understand anyway. A few think it's worth starting a religion for (thankfully they've always been a minority).

It's a story nonetheless. An ancient one but a story at the end of it all. And you can only read so much into it. Cause it's a story after all.

But because of the storys' myth or perhaps because of the words it says, the eldest in the tribe is held in the utmost respect. He gets the choicest morsel of food, the first look at the new sun, water whenever he desires and an ear whenever he speaks.

The eldest after all heard the story in it's least diminished form. And he knows more than they ever will.

There's a story that the old men of the Sahara tell...and there are still places where the old don't get shunted to nursing homes.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Thnks fr th Mmrs

It's cold.
Shivering cold.
Is there any other kind? Yes, you fool. There are a gahzillion kinds. And it's all those kinds right now. Like a communion of colds. Fuckers!

The shivering cold is the loudest though. For the moment. I hate loud colds (I'm ambivalent towards loud people).

But they tell me it's going to get colder still. The communion is going to reproduce and do communion dances around my shivering body. They also tell me bitter cold will find her voice and be the loudest then.

I'm a tropical person. Tropical climate oriented that is.

So when my tropical brain - clad in its penguin swimsuit, whilst surfing waves and slurping smoothies - cause brains can do that, reads the papers, it can't help but put on a smirking smile. The devious kinds.

I can't wait for global warming to hit.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009


There is something in the air in Delhi. I know it's mostly bad, but whatever it is, it always stopped me from having a hangover the next day. Maybe pollution does have a good side. Now only if I could get it bottled, with attractive packaging, at a store near me.

I realise I'm coming out as overly alcoholic. Last post, this post. But I'm really not...or maybe I am. Or not. Whatever.

But what's worse is this Obama character. He's waging war after safely tucking the nobel peace price in his pocket. Shrewd no?

Now now, I do admire the man. I would have voted for him if I was of this land, but that doesn't mean he's right in everything he does, now does it? He doesn't get my "yay" to his every action.

And to be fair to him, even he's stopped trying to win everyone over, if you notice the changed tone and words in his speeches. Politics does that to you. You start up being a suckup, and then when you win the election you...stop sucking up.

But if he'd still want to listen, I'd perhaps shoutout..."War. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Ho!"