Why do you women have it so easy!!!

So easy for you to find yourself a boyfriend.
All you have to do is be seen in public alone. A thousand guys will hit on you and you can pick your favourite.
You hardly ever need to pay cover charges to get into clubs or anything.
I've never seen a girl complain about a couples only entry.
It's hot when you check out other women. It's gross if a guy looks at other guys.
Getting a ride home is really easy.
Job interviews are a breeze with the right choice of clothes.
Since we're doing clothes...it's cool if you show off some cleavage, but when we take our fellows out for some air, we're likely to get arrested or injured.
It's so easy to get things when you use your body. Acting jobs, etc. Ever heard of a male casting-couch victim?
You always seem to know more than guys.
You know about the status of the relationship. The guy might be completely clueless about whether you two are a couple or not, but you know exactly what is going on, and you don't mind seeing him suffer while trying to figure it out.
You get to throw tantrums and make other people apologise even though you are wrong.
Only you know if you're going to be having sex later that night. The guy will just pray that he did everything right and hope for the best.
Ladies nights at pubs...need I say more?
Oh wait, I'm saying more...on a non-ladies night, if you're in a small group (less than four) of only females, there is a pretty good chance some guy will come over and ask you if he/his group could 'buy you ladies some drinks'
If you do any 'guy' things, you're awesome and hot and everyone wants to know you.
Things like riding a bike. It's bloody simple, but if a girl does it everyone is all "ooo, look at her go! It's so awesome she can ride a bike" Also applies to playing the guitar, eating loads of food and playing sports. But when a guy does a little crochet to make his bed-covers look nice, he's suddenly gay.

It's all about how society labels things.
We men must break the shackles of this woman-biased hypocritical world we live in!
Come, hold my hand and let us travel wearing pink clothes and remove this wool from over the eyes of all the bigots in the world. Let us be proud of our bodies and our various genitalia. Break out of the closet, break out the fruity cocktails with tiny umbrellas and keep your knitting needles handy so we can stick them into the eyes of anybody who mocks us.

(Drifted off a bit at the end there. Got to do this to confirm my complete heterosexuality...I want beer. Lets play football and bash in some heads afterwards. *Burp*!)

The Dosa

Ah, the wonderful Dosa!
As Indian as the Samosa!
Mostly eaten in the south
stuff it all in your mouth

There are so many
but you can choose any
Utappa, Masala or Rava
all hot, right off the tava
Eat, eat your fill.
Now pay the bill.



ps: Feel free to use with music! Just give credit and donate money for food.

I forget.

You know what the problem with being forgetful is?
If you do, please let me know. I knew it too, but I've forgotten.

So there I am, talking to someone, when I realise I don't remember the person's name.
Now this happens to me a lot more often than you'd think.
I figure my head doesn't have enough free storage to store new names. With all the random thoughts floating around like little white wisps of cloud and this hyper active imagination and...what's the mental equivalent of a vast barren wasteland?
Anyway, you get the picture...
So yeah, there I am, talking to some person, don't remember said person's name...What do I do?
Actually most of the time it doesn't matter. I don't talk very much, so I don't really need to know the other person's name.
But on those rare occasions where I do, I never know how to ask.
It's weird. There's this window - the introduction time window - which closes some 10 minutes into a conversation with a new person.
Now once that window is closed, there's no way you can ask that person directly.
There are several things I've tried : asking a common friend, calling a friend over and hoping they would do their own introductions (this has backfired a few times), checking out the seat-listing (on a train or a conference hall)
None of them work perfectly though.
So after much thought I finally came up with one yesterday.
"So what do your friends call you?"
Oh damn. I just realised it wouldn't work either.
"Why, by my name of course"
"Ah! Can I see some ID?"
heh. Might work yet!

The truth and nothing butt!

Okay, since one of my genius friends (You know who you are.) decided it would be a good idea to tell my parents about this blog, I figure it won't be long before they read all the crap that's on this page.
Therefore...

1. When I added the B and M to 'ARMADA' on the cover of my notebook back in class 8, I honestly did not know what a BarMadam was. (And frankly I'm surprised you made that connection!)
I was doodling around during Social Studies class when I added the B to 'ARMADA' to make 'BARMADA' which sounded terribly funny. Like something an underwear would say if it could talk (bermuda chaddies?). And then I thought to myself "You know what'd make this talking underwear even funnier...If it added an 'M' to the end of that word to make 'BARMADAM'. Then it would have it's own little rhythm to sing later. Barmadam barmadam barmadam." (say it 10 times nonstop).

2. That thing with the little hole burnt into my pants really was a lab experiment gone bad. Parag thought it would be really hilarious if my pants were to catch fire during one of the chemistry lab experiments. So he started flinging lit matches at me. Thankfully pant material isn't very flammable, and I survived that incident without too much psychological or physical damage.
So, No, I did NOT try to smoke a cigarette and then stub it out on my pants!

3. That long list of vases and other fragile things that I broke while running/playing inside the house...well, it's probably right.
You really should've known better though! Don't leave breakable stuff and a slightly mental 10 year old in the same house at the same time!

Jokes gone bad

Knock knock
Who's there?
It's me.
It's me who?
I'm me, goddammit! Open the fucking door. I really gotta pee.


The president of the USA, the Prime Minister of India and the Pakistani premier got together for dinner one night.
They discussed politics and left.


What's the difference between a lawyer and a leech?
A lawyer is human. A leech is a worm.


Interviewer: what is your birth date?
Sardar: 11 October
Interviewer: Which year?
Sardar: 1970


Why did the chicken cross the road?
Oh, fuck you!

Sigh!

Sighin' in the rain?

If only I'd been there!
I'd have smacked Gene Kelly in the face with that big black umbrella of his.

"No more happy refrains out of you! Now wipe that silly smile off your face and get out of the rain before you get struck by lightning."

Entertaining Myself : 1