Monday, November 14, 2005

Doggy Style!

My hair seems to have grown all over my face again. My brother calls me a black haired Pomeranian, but I call myself a black haired Briard. But I will continue to be indignant. I will not have my hair cut, out of fear of that insolent barber. Cheeky fellow.



I also have figured out a new way of making a million; this time by suing Nokia. Yeah, those Finnish mammoths. The reason being this.

Imagine, your having a nice nap on your nice bed upon your nice pillow on a nice Sunday afternoon. And then, imagine, just imagine, your phone screaming out, Beep Beep; Pause; Beep Beep.

“1 New Message Received”.

That’s good enough I say.

But imagine, the new message being this;

S: I am going to the Sun,
B: But the Sun is so hot, how are u going to go there.
S: Ah! I have thought all about it. I am going there at night.

Now, now, if your returning from the IIT’s(sorry, no offense, just a cliché), that might be a New Message. But, if you receive the same message, and countless other New Old messages, you feel like chucking your phone out of the window and going back to sleep. How is that new? I don’t know. And Nokia, you will pay for this. HaHA!

A better message would have been

S: I am going to the Sun,
B: But the Sun is so hot, how are u going to go there.
S: Ah! I have thought all about it. I am going to wear a thermonite suit which has the capability to perfectly reflect the Cosecant waves emitted by the heavenly quasars and pulsars.

That, I admit is not a joke[ except maybe to the IITians], but its at least new.

I am now returning to my nice nap on my nice bed upon my nice pillow on this nice Monday afternoon. And I shall wait, for my phone to scream out, Beep Beep; Pause; Beep Beep. Evidence, my dear Watson, evidence.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Billionaires and Pikachu's!

If you have read the latest issue of Business Standard, they have kindly provided a copy of “The Billionaire Club”. If you have read further on, you would have noticed that Azim Premji as the No.1 Billionaire in India. If you have stopped there, fine. That was the intention anyway. But for my more discretionary readers, you might have read the Fine Print. It clearly say this,

“Due to the incompatibility of our computer to process large numbers, we have not included the name of Gaurav. However, we assure that he is the No. 1 Billionaire of India.”

Most of you would not have read this because it requires an electron microscope to magnify.

Psst! Let me let you on to a secret. I purposely asked them to eliminate my name. No, I don’t grow poppy. I don’t even smuggle bombs. I stopped enriching Uranium 6 years ago. But I am scared of those weird Income Tax people who would come rushing home if I had them include my name in the list. Hence, the fine print. Now, now, don’t go around telling this to everybody! Don’t you dare think that just because I am on my way to become a Chartered Accountant, I have immunity from those chaps there.

Now, on to more important stuff.

I got a call from “Retirement Benefits From ICICI yesterday”. I told them I am already happily retired from public life.

Exams start on 24th, so I have absolutely nothing to do till the 23rd. That’s got me to learn to waste away my time more productively doing quite a lot of things. For instance, today I watched the Shark Tale twice in a row. Otherwise, I am just sulking on my couch playing some damn stupid game[ cant play GTA, it uses the F-word a bit too much, precisely, after every damn word spoken.] . Still otherwise, I am chauffeuring people around, especially relatives’ kids asking for a precise metallic brown coloured balloon with a Donald Duck on it standing with Pikachu. You can’t explain stuff to kids; especially that Pikachu and Donald were not made by the same company and hence can’t be together. But do they understand, NO!
So, I told them that Pikachu missed his/her/it’s flight to Disneyland and thus couldn’t pose with Donald. They were satisfied. Got them a stupid pink balloon with a heart on it.

Pathetic.

Also, that loser of a person Amar doesn’t seem to have any inclination to give a birthday treat. Wait till I get Gaurav Kothari to come to his house in a gypsy and bash him up with Hockey Sticks. You just wait! That way, I would also be eliminating competition for the exams coming up.

Ha! HA! I am becoming nastier, and loving all of it.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Celebrating the Uncelebrated

Nothing significant ever happens to me.

Ok, the dog down my street has a fetish to run after me, the ‘paan’ shop fellow near BASE offers me cigarettes when I ask for mint and cops keep asking me for licenses.

Now, that got me thinking. No, seriously, I did use the stairway to my brain this time.
Am I that sinister looking??? That’s the bloody paradox.

Am I that sinister looking?

Dogs running, cigarette offerings, cops catching. Why? Why me? For heaven’s sake, why??

It just doesn’t stop at that. The CD guys offers me the “stuff” incessantly, my principal thinks I have a second home on the benches of M.G.Road and most of all, people stare at me when I walk down the road humming the G- Group’s “Taliban Alla Alla”.

I must be sinister.

Let me start loving kids, loving the Moonwalk, hang my kids down the balcony, have a sister who ‘flashes’ at the Superbowl, and then, who knows, I might just get qualified to get a free plastic surgery too. Get a better face and move away from this sinister world.

The weather just makes it worse. It may be the moisture in the air, or maybe the Cubans are spraying Biochemical weapons from the air using aerosol cans(!!), but my nasty beard grows again in just 4 days. Too bad. It makes me look even more sinister.

Also, the remix version of the G-Group’s Taliban Alla Alla also doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere. I am using another sinister alias for this . Put your rotten tomatoes in your hand in honour of the one and only, DJ TJ.

TIP OF THE DAY

Some people have complained about a bad smell emanating from their computer screens on viewing this page. If your one of them, well, then that’s a technical error and should go away if you unplug your computer, pick up the monitor in your left hand, roll it over your fingers and try to juggle it while staring at a roach right near your little toe. If the monitor survives, refresh and the smell will be gone.

I suck!