Do you realise there is something in your body that heats things up?
You know, sometimes when your pee is hot as hell? That's what I'm talking about.
How the hell did it get so hot? You ever think about that?
Now I'm thinking if I should ask for an extension to that organ or whatever it is that does that heating thing.
If I can have a convenient little area to heat my coffee up every once in a while, while using my own energy, I would have to say I'd be very grateful.
Thank you. Thank you.
I'll get me coat.
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
Five of a feather
Have you ever looked at people around you?
I mean, have you ever really looked at the entire mass of humanity that surrounds you?
It is a really disturbing sight sometimes. The air is rank with the stench of negativity. If I was asked what the mood of the average Indian was, I would answer "Unhappy and Bored".
When was the last time a stranger smiled at you? When was the last time you smiled at a stranger? The next time you are out on the road, just look around at people who are alone. Ignore the ones with the cell phones glued to their faces. Look at everyone else. I usually see infinitely bored guys just staring. Staring aimlessly at anything even remotely interesting to their forever bored brains. I see people walking around with an detached look that'll turn into a frown every few seconds for no reason.
Anyway, getting to the point now, a week or so ago, I was dreaming about a perfect world where we could do anything we wanted (Hopefully I'll detail this in a post later sometime) and I was wondering if people have forgotten what fun is all about.
Yes, you get together with your friends once in a while, you cosy up with your boy/girl friend and have a good time, but there has got to be more. There's got to be this element of randomness. Some craziness. Nothing drastic, just something fun.
So here's the idea. It's nothing earth shattering, nothing very new, but it's just a little something I'd like to try. A social experiment, if you will.
I'm going to make a list of five things I plan to do. The thing about these things is that it needn't be something I've wanted to do forever, it needn't be something that will change my life or anyone else's, it needn't be something that will cost a lot of money or take a lot of time or jeopardize anything that is important to me.
Just five simple, possibly silly, hopefully random things that would be fun to do with some close friends, and would be something you can talk about over a nice cup of coffee with said close friends forever and ever after.
Oh, I'm not sure why this post is titled 'five of a feather', but if you can think of something clever, I'm going to say that was what I thought of.
1. Ride aimlessly through the city very, very early in the morning, watch the sun rise from a place with a view.
2. Catch a train to an unknown small town. Play tourist for an entire day.
3. Make a list of all my favourite eateries (not the restaurants) in the city and visit them all in one day.
4. Pack a picnic hamper and a frisbee and find some nice field on the outskirts to spend an afternoon.
5. Spend 24 hours awake with a bunch of friends. Do stuff. Monopoly, darts, hog, etc.
Now this is stuff best done with people. Not alone. I'm going to ask friends to join me for each of these. Except, perhaps, for #1. That's too romantic (kanth, rahul and all my other male suitors, I'm off the market. I hope you understand. I found someone so much hotter than you guys. That includes you, NPH. I'm sorry.)
The list took about 20 minutes to make. Not too long for what might lead to some really awesome times.
Okay, so now to the important bit. I want you (yes, you. I know who you are. I will annoy the crap out of you if you don't do this.) to take 20 minutes and write up a rough list like this. It doesn't have to be perfect, you can edit the fine details later, but I want a rough list. Post it here as a comment. We can do something interactive later if this catches on.
You can think of me as someone who'll bring joy to your lives. Like God, yes. You may refer to me henceforth as 'Him' (or 'He', if the sentence needs it).
Kanth, Mary, tsp, Sudarshana, Aarti, Abhi, Rahul, Sameer, Shambhavi, Venkat, anyone else I've missed...I want lists!! Give me lists!
LISTS!!!!
(You too, hon. First thing in the morn.)
I shall now retire to my private quarters, where my fluffy mattress and pillow await me anxiously.
G'night fellows. Remember, lists!
I mean, have you ever really looked at the entire mass of humanity that surrounds you?
It is a really disturbing sight sometimes. The air is rank with the stench of negativity. If I was asked what the mood of the average Indian was, I would answer "Unhappy and Bored".
When was the last time a stranger smiled at you? When was the last time you smiled at a stranger? The next time you are out on the road, just look around at people who are alone. Ignore the ones with the cell phones glued to their faces. Look at everyone else. I usually see infinitely bored guys just staring. Staring aimlessly at anything even remotely interesting to their forever bored brains. I see people walking around with an detached look that'll turn into a frown every few seconds for no reason.
Anyway, getting to the point now, a week or so ago, I was dreaming about a perfect world where we could do anything we wanted (Hopefully I'll detail this in a post later sometime) and I was wondering if people have forgotten what fun is all about.
Yes, you get together with your friends once in a while, you cosy up with your boy/girl friend and have a good time, but there has got to be more. There's got to be this element of randomness. Some craziness. Nothing drastic, just something fun.
So here's the idea. It's nothing earth shattering, nothing very new, but it's just a little something I'd like to try. A social experiment, if you will.
I'm going to make a list of five things I plan to do. The thing about these things is that it needn't be something I've wanted to do forever, it needn't be something that will change my life or anyone else's, it needn't be something that will cost a lot of money or take a lot of time or jeopardize anything that is important to me.
Just five simple, possibly silly, hopefully random things that would be fun to do with some close friends, and would be something you can talk about over a nice cup of coffee with said close friends forever and ever after.
Oh, I'm not sure why this post is titled 'five of a feather', but if you can think of something clever, I'm going to say that was what I thought of.
1. Ride aimlessly through the city very, very early in the morning, watch the sun rise from a place with a view.
2. Catch a train to an unknown small town. Play tourist for an entire day.
3. Make a list of all my favourite eateries (not the restaurants) in the city and visit them all in one day.
4. Pack a picnic hamper and a frisbee and find some nice field on the outskirts to spend an afternoon.
5. Spend 24 hours awake with a bunch of friends. Do stuff. Monopoly, darts, hog, etc.
Now this is stuff best done with people. Not alone. I'm going to ask friends to join me for each of these. Except, perhaps, for #1. That's too romantic (kanth, rahul and all my other male suitors, I'm off the market. I hope you understand. I found someone so much hotter than you guys. That includes you, NPH. I'm sorry.)
The list took about 20 minutes to make. Not too long for what might lead to some really awesome times.
Okay, so now to the important bit. I want you (yes, you. I know who you are. I will annoy the crap out of you if you don't do this.) to take 20 minutes and write up a rough list like this. It doesn't have to be perfect, you can edit the fine details later, but I want a rough list. Post it here as a comment. We can do something interactive later if this catches on.
You can think of me as someone who'll bring joy to your lives. Like God, yes. You may refer to me henceforth as 'Him' (or 'He', if the sentence needs it).
Kanth, Mary, tsp, Sudarshana, Aarti, Abhi, Rahul, Sameer, Shambhavi, Venkat, anyone else I've missed...I want lists!! Give me lists!
LISTS!!!!
(You too, hon. First thing in the morn.)
I shall now retire to my private quarters, where my fluffy mattress and pillow await me anxiously.
G'night fellows. Remember, lists!
Sunday, 19 December 2010
Dear Mr Dream Maker
Respected Sir,
I am writing to applaud you on the many wonderful years of fascinating dreams you have provided me with. I am also writing to express my thoughts on how you should be doing your job.
(Please note that all points are neatly arranged in sequential order, starting from the start and ending at the end. Very unlike what you are used to, but I sincerely hope you follow.)
1.
Inception-like dreams within dreams are strange and thankfully very rare. It is slightly disturbing to wake up from one dream and think 'Calm down! It was just a dream! Thank fuck!' and then see the same demon/exam/ayn rand book come back to haunt me for a few more seconds before I wake up again and think 'Just a dream. Just a dream within a dream. Can I calm down now or is there more?.'
2.
Enough with the college dreams. Please.
I lived through four years of that crap. It really isn't fun when I suddenly find myself in the middle of an examination trying to pen down my rather vague thoughts on some course I didn't know I was taking (Very realistic by the way. Well done!) with a limp, yellow, rather rubbery penguin in my hand.
3.
From my analysis on the way you end my almost-wet dreams, I assume you have a killer sense of humour. I'd suggest you curb that and stop waking me up at such ill-timed moments or I really will find a way to get to you and make you eat your own faces (I heard you have more than one head. Or did I spell that wrong? Well, that's for me to be unsure of and for you to find out soon enough if this happens again.)
4.
What is it with you and falling?
Off a cliff, Into a pool, Down a wormhole(okay, this one is fun once in a while!).
I wouldn't mind all of these so much if you gave me some sort of insurance. You know, a parachute, little red duck-beaked floats that go around my waist, a little book with big reassuring letters on the cover ... something ... anything at all! At least I won't wake up with a jolt so bad that I spend the entirety of the next morning limping all over the place.
5.
Morning wood. What the heck is that all about?
Some lingering details on the why's and the who's and the how many's would be very very welcome.
Now, onto some commendations.
1.
Good job on the techni-colour dreams. Beautiful shapes, tantalising colours, excellent stuff overall. Really. Well done.
2.
Adventures. Almost always wonderful. The only drawback to this is going back to a suddenly-mundane-in-comparison existence. Suggestions for future episodes : dragons, swords, pirate ships, certain familiar faces, and some fruit chews if you can manage them.
3.
Dream-less sleep. I know everyone is entitled to a night off once in a while. I just hope you feel as relaxed as I do on these nights.
I do hope this letter finds you in good spirits, better health and the best of moods.
Thanking you,
your sleepy friend from ever since I can remember.
I am writing to applaud you on the many wonderful years of fascinating dreams you have provided me with. I am also writing to express my thoughts on how you should be doing your job.
(Please note that all points are neatly arranged in sequential order, starting from the start and ending at the end. Very unlike what you are used to, but I sincerely hope you follow.)
1.
Inception-like dreams within dreams are strange and thankfully very rare. It is slightly disturbing to wake up from one dream and think 'Calm down! It was just a dream! Thank fuck!' and then see the same demon/exam/ayn rand book come back to haunt me for a few more seconds before I wake up again and think 'Just a dream. Just a dream within a dream. Can I calm down now or is there more?.'
2.
Enough with the college dreams. Please.
I lived through four years of that crap. It really isn't fun when I suddenly find myself in the middle of an examination trying to pen down my rather vague thoughts on some course I didn't know I was taking (Very realistic by the way. Well done!) with a limp, yellow, rather rubbery penguin in my hand.
3.
From my analysis on the way you end my almost-wet dreams, I assume you have a killer sense of humour. I'd suggest you curb that and stop waking me up at such ill-timed moments or I really will find a way to get to you and make you eat your own faces (I heard you have more than one head. Or did I spell that wrong? Well, that's for me to be unsure of and for you to find out soon enough if this happens again.)
4.
What is it with you and falling?
Off a cliff, Into a pool, Down a wormhole(okay, this one is fun once in a while!).
I wouldn't mind all of these so much if you gave me some sort of insurance. You know, a parachute, little red duck-beaked floats that go around my waist, a little book with big reassuring letters on the cover ... something ... anything at all! At least I won't wake up with a jolt so bad that I spend the entirety of the next morning limping all over the place.
5.
Morning wood. What the heck is that all about?
Some lingering details on the why's and the who's and the how many's would be very very welcome.
Now, onto some commendations.
1.
Good job on the techni-colour dreams. Beautiful shapes, tantalising colours, excellent stuff overall. Really. Well done.
2.
Adventures. Almost always wonderful. The only drawback to this is going back to a suddenly-mundane-in-comparison existence. Suggestions for future episodes : dragons, swords, pirate ships, certain familiar faces, and some fruit chews if you can manage them.
3.
Dream-less sleep. I know everyone is entitled to a night off once in a while. I just hope you feel as relaxed as I do on these nights.
I do hope this letter finds you in good spirits, better health and the best of moods.
Thanking you,
your sleepy friend from ever since I can remember.
Saturday, 27 November 2010
Four O' Clock News - Interrupted
Hello and welcome to the Four O' Clock news.
I'm your host BigDaddy WantsYou and with me is my new co-anchor BigDaddy GotMe. On sports is ThisIs Parthaaa (stop laughing, partha!) and on weather, Shudha HadAnUmbrella.
On to today's top story.
Yet another scam has been exposed today by the excellent undercover reporters of this channel. This time, it's the sex education ministry that has to go under the scanner for shamelessly stealing hundreds of crores of rupees from the tax paying public.
Here is GotMe with more.
Thank you, BigDaddy. India's sex education minister, Khushboo, was caught on camera yesterday accepting thousands of boxes of condoms and a down payment of several crores of rupees as a bribe from one of our undercover reporters in return for a government funded sex education campaign that would advertise these condoms.
The tax payers of this country have been duped yet again by these corrupt officials who seem to use the finances of this country as their personal ATM's.
Back to you, BigDaddy. BigDaddy? Where's he gone?
frrzzztt - zzzrtrrrtttz - (other noises of static) - bzzzt
Good Afternoon good citizens of this country.
I apologize for interrupting this news broadcast, but there is a matter of the utmost importance that you need to know. I'm terribly sorry this has to cut into your TV time, but I know most of you just want to stare at co-anchor GotMe. Sigh.
Oh, right, onto the matters of consequence.
As most of you would remember, my last campaign to become dictator of this country was an underground success. After a great deal of convincing, nobody voted during the last general election.
However, I underestimated these slimy politicians. They faked the votes and fixed the whole election. Which meant that each of you non-voters thought you were the only ones who didn't vote. I am here to clear the air on this matter.
No one voted.
The politicians rigged the polls and are back there sitting on their gold and diamond thrones devouring all your hard-earned money as fast as I eat my pizzas.
So now I'm approaching this dictatorship thing differently.
You are going to vote for me.
I promise to rule over you with an iron fist. Martial law everywhere, curfews everyday, prison for littering, spitting, peeing off trains.
No more land scams, condom scams, widows-of-kargil-getting-robbed scams, sports-ministry-commonwealth-games-treadmill-buying scams. No more scams.
Just a few free meals for me now and again, mostly pizzas and milkshakes. Nothing too expensive.
I also promise to dissolve the whole election system. No more democracy. Never again.
There'll be no opposition, no ruling party. Just me.
I'll hire people I think are worthy. Start padding your résumés.
And I shall take this country places!
So when the next election comes around, you know what to do.
Vote for the Iron Fist!
Back to the news channel for now. And if you don't stop staring at GotMe, I will line the whole bunch of you up against a wall and shoot you.
frrzzztt - zzzrtrrrtttz - (other noises of static) - bzzzt
Uh...welcome back to the news. We're terribly sorry for the interruption, our technical team is working on it. Here is BigDaddy with more.
Back to you, BigDaddy. Why are you wearing a mask?
Dammit.
Well, I think all of us need a moment to reflect on what we just heard from that completely unknown voice that I just could not recognise.
On to less serious matters, matters of little or no consequence, if you will, here is Partha with sports.
hahahahaha. Stop haha making me laugh hahaha you bastard. hahahaha.
We're sorry about that. Ms. HadAnUmbrella seems to have disappeared for now, so this is probably a good time to end this program. From me, BigDaddy, and the rest of the team here, stay safe, and have a good night. Also, stay classy.
I'm your host BigDaddy WantsYou and with me is my new co-anchor BigDaddy GotMe. On sports is ThisIs Parthaaa (stop laughing, partha!) and on weather, Shudha HadAnUmbrella.
On to today's top story.
Yet another scam has been exposed today by the excellent undercover reporters of this channel. This time, it's the sex education ministry that has to go under the scanner for shamelessly stealing hundreds of crores of rupees from the tax paying public.
Here is GotMe with more.
Thank you, BigDaddy. India's sex education minister, Khushboo, was caught on camera yesterday accepting thousands of boxes of condoms and a down payment of several crores of rupees as a bribe from one of our undercover reporters in return for a government funded sex education campaign that would advertise these condoms.
The tax payers of this country have been duped yet again by these corrupt officials who seem to use the finances of this country as their personal ATM's.
Back to you, BigDaddy. BigDaddy? Where's he gone?
frrzzztt - zzzrtrrrtttz - (other noises of static) - bzzzt
Good Afternoon good citizens of this country.
I apologize for interrupting this news broadcast, but there is a matter of the utmost importance that you need to know. I'm terribly sorry this has to cut into your TV time, but I know most of you just want to stare at co-anchor GotMe. Sigh.
Oh, right, onto the matters of consequence.
As most of you would remember, my last campaign to become dictator of this country was an underground success. After a great deal of convincing, nobody voted during the last general election.
However, I underestimated these slimy politicians. They faked the votes and fixed the whole election. Which meant that each of you non-voters thought you were the only ones who didn't vote. I am here to clear the air on this matter.
No one voted.
The politicians rigged the polls and are back there sitting on their gold and diamond thrones devouring all your hard-earned money as fast as I eat my pizzas.
So now I'm approaching this dictatorship thing differently.
You are going to vote for me.
I promise to rule over you with an iron fist. Martial law everywhere, curfews everyday, prison for littering, spitting, peeing off trains.
No more land scams, condom scams, widows-of-kargil-getting-robbed scams, sports-ministry-commonwealth-games-treadmill-buying scams. No more scams.
Just a few free meals for me now and again, mostly pizzas and milkshakes. Nothing too expensive.
I also promise to dissolve the whole election system. No more democracy. Never again.
There'll be no opposition, no ruling party. Just me.
I'll hire people I think are worthy. Start padding your résumés.
And I shall take this country places!
So when the next election comes around, you know what to do.
Vote for the Iron Fist!
Back to the news channel for now. And if you don't stop staring at GotMe, I will line the whole bunch of you up against a wall and shoot you.
frrzzztt - zzzrtrrrtttz - (other noises of static) - bzzzt
Uh...welcome back to the news. We're terribly sorry for the interruption, our technical team is working on it. Here is BigDaddy with more.
Back to you, BigDaddy. Why are you wearing a mask?
Dammit.
Well, I think all of us need a moment to reflect on what we just heard from that completely unknown voice that I just could not recognise.
On to less serious matters, matters of little or no consequence, if you will, here is Partha with sports.
hahahahaha. Stop haha making me laugh hahaha you bastard. hahahaha.
We're sorry about that. Ms. HadAnUmbrella seems to have disappeared for now, so this is probably a good time to end this program. From me, BigDaddy, and the rest of the team here, stay safe, and have a good night. Also, stay classy.
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
A feeling.
You know that feeling.
The feeling you get sometimes when you unlock the door to your house and you step in, into the dark, and you sense someone there.
You turn on the lights, and you look around, you see nothing but you can still feel it. You tell yourself it's probably just your imagination, but you're still on edge. The hair on your neck is standing up. And then someone comes to the door. Someone you know and love and the instant you look at that person, the whole feeling just vanishes. Like a shroud of darkness running from the sun.
What if at some point, you look back at your life and you try to sum up the past few years, what if this is what you come up with?
This feeling.
The dark, lonely feeling.
And you wait for someone to come to the door.
And you wait for someone to walk in and brighten up your day. and brighten up your life.
And when it happens, you know it has, because you look back and you know it never fit. And you look forward and you know you'll always fit. Like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle. Making sense of a nonsensical world.
The feeling you get sometimes when you unlock the door to your house and you step in, into the dark, and you sense someone there.
You turn on the lights, and you look around, you see nothing but you can still feel it. You tell yourself it's probably just your imagination, but you're still on edge. The hair on your neck is standing up. And then someone comes to the door. Someone you know and love and the instant you look at that person, the whole feeling just vanishes. Like a shroud of darkness running from the sun.
What if at some point, you look back at your life and you try to sum up the past few years, what if this is what you come up with?
This feeling.
The dark, lonely feeling.
And you wait for someone to come to the door.
And you wait for someone to walk in and brighten up your day. and brighten up your life.
And when it happens, you know it has, because you look back and you know it never fit. And you look forward and you know you'll always fit. Like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle. Making sense of a nonsensical world.
Friday, 25 June 2010
A little warning and a story
Just a warning before you read this.
I'm trying my hand at slightly more serious (that only means unfunny. It's still as terrible, don't you worry.) writing. Will post these things on a separate blog, but will post them here too, with little warnings, a free joke maybe, and sometimes a coupon(34Kr3Y for free pizza from me. Yes, the coupon is valid. Go on, give it a try. I know you want to.).
Here we go...
Seriousness : Attempt 1 :
Burst of laughter, tiny golden drops of peanut butter flying all over the place.
Sorry. Couldn't stop myself.
Seriousness : Attempt 2 :
Numb
Feels like I'm on a train. This is the third time this week.
I don't know what's been happening to me.
These dreams I've been dreaming.
I always wake up shivering and wondering where I am and if those images in my head were real.
But I'm never able to stop those memories from flitting away.
And then I remember nothing. No name. No family. No childhood. No memory. No life.
It had been two months since the accident, or so the doctors say.
My name, they say, is Steve Smith. A 28 year old white man with perfect vision and good teeth.
Over the last few weeks I've been able to visualise my new memories.
And they are memories I can't wait to forget.
My first memory is of waking up in a hospital. Under police custody.
Apparently, I was a murderer.
They told me I had robbed a man of his life savings and shot him when he tried to fight me.
I spent the next two years in the race of my life, spending every bit of that money I stole running from the law.
I was finally caught here. In this disgusting damp city. The city so dirty and bleak, it makes Gotham city look like a neat little town.
They sentenced me to a mental asylum for three months and to the electric chair if I manage to survive that. Now I do not know if I should welcome that date or fear it.
I've tried to convince them it was a different person who did those things. Horrible hellish dirty things that no man should ever consider. Things I am not capable of thinking about.
They just don't believe me though. They think I'm insane. They are going to have me killed. For something I have no knowledge of. For something I lost forever.
I just want to try and know the world. I want to see what's out there. Those beautiful places I have heard of from grim faced psychiatrists. The ocean, the mountains the valleys. The huge cities with all their people. Those wonderful rivers that feed countries. The magnificent sky that's a colour I'll never see. I'm on this wonderful planet and I wish I could see it.
But here I am. Condemned to die in thirty days. With the knowledge that beyond these sickly white walls, lies an entire universe that I am never going to be a part of.
I'm trying my hand at slightly more serious (that only means unfunny. It's still as terrible, don't you worry.) writing. Will post these things on a separate blog, but will post them here too, with little warnings, a free joke maybe, and sometimes a coupon(34Kr3Y for free pizza from me. Yes, the coupon is valid. Go on, give it a try. I know you want to.).
Here we go...
Seriousness : Attempt 1 :
Burst of laughter, tiny golden drops of peanut butter flying all over the place.
Sorry. Couldn't stop myself.
Seriousness : Attempt 2 :
Numb
Feels like I'm on a train. This is the third time this week.
I don't know what's been happening to me.
These dreams I've been dreaming.
I always wake up shivering and wondering where I am and if those images in my head were real.
But I'm never able to stop those memories from flitting away.
And then I remember nothing. No name. No family. No childhood. No memory. No life.
It had been two months since the accident, or so the doctors say.
My name, they say, is Steve Smith. A 28 year old white man with perfect vision and good teeth.
Over the last few weeks I've been able to visualise my new memories.
And they are memories I can't wait to forget.
My first memory is of waking up in a hospital. Under police custody.
Apparently, I was a murderer.
They told me I had robbed a man of his life savings and shot him when he tried to fight me.
I spent the next two years in the race of my life, spending every bit of that money I stole running from the law.
I was finally caught here. In this disgusting damp city. The city so dirty and bleak, it makes Gotham city look like a neat little town.
They sentenced me to a mental asylum for three months and to the electric chair if I manage to survive that. Now I do not know if I should welcome that date or fear it.
I've tried to convince them it was a different person who did those things. Horrible hellish dirty things that no man should ever consider. Things I am not capable of thinking about.
They just don't believe me though. They think I'm insane. They are going to have me killed. For something I have no knowledge of. For something I lost forever.
I just want to try and know the world. I want to see what's out there. Those beautiful places I have heard of from grim faced psychiatrists. The ocean, the mountains the valleys. The huge cities with all their people. Those wonderful rivers that feed countries. The magnificent sky that's a colour I'll never see. I'm on this wonderful planet and I wish I could see it.
But here I am. Condemned to die in thirty days. With the knowledge that beyond these sickly white walls, lies an entire universe that I am never going to be a part of.
Sunday, 20 June 2010
The Frog who swallowed his wife and lover whole and lived! oh and just so you know, he never really managed to pay off those hospital bills.
Old Mr. froggie was croaking away as usual in the backyard.
He had never really liked the smell of smoke.
"What the hell is that damn thing they're putting in their mouths anyway?", he croaked.
"I have no idea, but I just don't like it." said beautiful, young Mrs. froggie. Lovely Mrs. froggie used to be a model. A beautiful model who was always smiling and oh-so happy...until she met Mr. froggie. But more on that later. "It smells like a forest on fire. Silly young humans nowadays. They do such strange things to themselves."
"Hmm" said Mr. froggie and went back to his book.
Mr. and Mrs. froggie had been together since the previous year when he charmed the beautiful young ms. froggie by juggling three empty bottles of beer while smoking flies to death with the cigarette butts they had found on their last date. ms. froggie was a very popular young lady back then. Many a suitor came to her with wonderful feats that would amaze her, but she chose the best of the lot.
Or so she thought back then.
Nowadays all Mr. froggie did was complain about their noisy human neighbours and the weird buzzing noise he had been hearing in his right ear for the past six months.
It was time to move on and Mrs. froggie knew it.
"All right, you lousy caterpillar-tongued moron. I have had it up to here with your annoying little yelps of anguish. I'm leaving you for a better man. A better species, to be precise. Lovely buzzy little Mr. bee here is flying me away from you. Forever and ever!. Take that you yellow-livered fly raping mongrel. Good Bye!"
Mr. Bee then buzzed in busily to buzz her away to buzzland. "Good bye Mr. frog" he buzzed. "I've never really had the chance to meet you, but I think you'd have liked me as a friend. Oh dear! I'm wasting time here chatting up my future-wife's future-ex-husband. My lovely future-bride awaits."
Mr. Bee then buzzed over to the lovely ms. froggie and ms.(I don't think we should be calling her 'Mrs.' froggie now that she's running away with the bee.) froggie jumped up with an almighty jump and an almightier fart (croak. I mean croak) and leaped on to Mr. bees back.
Mr. froggie was astounded. He had never seen or heard about bees before, thanks to his lack of education. Not lack of education actually. Maybe lack of a brain. Yes.
Mr. froggie was astounded. He had never seen or heard about bees before, thanks to his lack of brains.
He opened his big froggie mouth in wonder and it was no sooner than he did when Mrs.(I think I've decided I'm going to call her this, because it really makes sense in the end. Really. It Does! I promise! Read on.)froggie and the poor, previously attractive but now rather flat Mr. bee underneath her went sailing in.
"Gulp" went Mr. froggie as he swallowed his wife and her attempted-to-be-would-be-kidnapper,-lover,-husband-of three-little-girls-and-one-boy-with wonderful-eyes-and-a-killer-smile ("one can wish!" as Mrs. froggie would say), Mr. bee.
Thus ends the story of the strangest celebrity marriage ever. The story that came to be known as 'The Frog who swallowed his wife and lover whole and lived! oh and just so you know, he never really managed to pay off those hospital bills.'.
(I know, I know what you're thinking. 'Mrs.' froggie doesn't really make sense, but I just had to get you to the end so you'd stop bugging me about the whole 'she should be allowed to get her name back now that she is running away from her tormentor' crap. Just let things be and live with us without driving us completely mad.)
He had never really liked the smell of smoke.
"What the hell is that damn thing they're putting in their mouths anyway?", he croaked.
"I have no idea, but I just don't like it." said beautiful, young Mrs. froggie. Lovely Mrs. froggie used to be a model. A beautiful model who was always smiling and oh-so happy...until she met Mr. froggie. But more on that later. "It smells like a forest on fire. Silly young humans nowadays. They do such strange things to themselves."
"Hmm" said Mr. froggie and went back to his book.
Mr. and Mrs. froggie had been together since the previous year when he charmed the beautiful young ms. froggie by juggling three empty bottles of beer while smoking flies to death with the cigarette butts they had found on their last date. ms. froggie was a very popular young lady back then. Many a suitor came to her with wonderful feats that would amaze her, but she chose the best of the lot.
Or so she thought back then.
Nowadays all Mr. froggie did was complain about their noisy human neighbours and the weird buzzing noise he had been hearing in his right ear for the past six months.
It was time to move on and Mrs. froggie knew it.
"All right, you lousy caterpillar-tongued moron. I have had it up to here with your annoying little yelps of anguish. I'm leaving you for a better man. A better species, to be precise. Lovely buzzy little Mr. bee here is flying me away from you. Forever and ever!. Take that you yellow-livered fly raping mongrel. Good Bye!"
Mr. Bee then buzzed in busily to buzz her away to buzzland. "Good bye Mr. frog" he buzzed. "I've never really had the chance to meet you, but I think you'd have liked me as a friend. Oh dear! I'm wasting time here chatting up my future-wife's future-ex-husband. My lovely future-bride awaits."
Mr. Bee then buzzed over to the lovely ms. froggie and ms.(I don't think we should be calling her 'Mrs.' froggie now that she's running away with the bee.) froggie jumped up with an almighty jump and an almightier fart (croak. I mean croak) and leaped on to Mr. bees back.
Mr. froggie was astounded. He had never seen or heard about bees before, thanks to his lack of education. Not lack of education actually. Maybe lack of a brain. Yes.
Mr. froggie was astounded. He had never seen or heard about bees before, thanks to his lack of brains.
He opened his big froggie mouth in wonder and it was no sooner than he did when Mrs.(I think I've decided I'm going to call her this, because it really makes sense in the end. Really. It Does! I promise! Read on.)froggie and the poor, previously attractive but now rather flat Mr. bee underneath her went sailing in.
"Gulp" went Mr. froggie as he swallowed his wife and her attempted-to-be-would-be-kidnapper,-lover,-husband-of three-little-girls-and-one-boy-with wonderful-eyes-and-a-killer-smile ("one can wish!" as Mrs. froggie would say), Mr. bee.
Thus ends the story of the strangest celebrity marriage ever. The story that came to be known as 'The Frog who swallowed his wife and lover whole and lived! oh and just so you know, he never really managed to pay off those hospital bills.'.
(I know, I know what you're thinking. 'Mrs.' froggie doesn't really make sense, but I just had to get you to the end so you'd stop bugging me about the whole 'she should be allowed to get her name back now that she is running away from her tormentor' crap. Just let things be and live with us without driving us completely mad.)
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