Michael Stipes- The Ladies man??

Do you think Michael Stipes ever got laid???
He's got legs of a tweezer,the head of a sawn-off golf ball,the height of a grasshopper,the body of a stick and the arms of a reed. All in all he's pretty much like the inside of a janitor's closet.

so do you think he ever gets laid??
and the answer is....(and for all you politically-correct,insignificant,spineless followers of him, i didn't Wikipedia this)......yes.
Why??
I think you'd be able to charm the pants of a lady too if you had the brains to write Man on the moon,Losin' my religion and Everybody hurts.
Just watched a concert live in Athens.the guy's a killer,what a band,U2 doesn't hold a candle to them.Evergreen oldies, he really should be given a lifetime achievement award sometime soon by some ceremony, god knows there are enough going around.
If there's one gripe about them,there's just not enough news about the orgies they must be having in their hotel rooms.What the hell man??when you've got half the naked chicks in Greece attending your concerts, i think we deserve a little more rock band-like behaviour and a little less of the Oprah Winfrey like shit.

Never ask about a guy's shoes.....again!!

In Varanasi....
Passenger comes to use the washroom and i noticed his shoes.....these flashy New Balance jobs with silver logo on them. Pretty unique.
but i didn't think twice of them until 5 minutes later another guy walks up to use the washroom wearing the identical same pair of footwear.Now either these two guys are sharing one pair of shoes, otherwise it's pretty strange that two guys, unknown to each other,sitting on a flight far apart from each other are wearing the exact same pair of bling.
So i stopped him and asked, "do you have any friends on this flight?"
Old dude:"yes, mumble,something,mumble,mumble"
I:"I'm sorry. Do you have any friends or relatives on this flight?"
Old dude:"yes, yes!"
I:"Well, who is he?how are you two related?"
Old dude(pointing in direction of other old dude wearing the same shoes):"He's my husband!!!"
I:"sorry, can you help me clean up my spit and close my mouth for me now?"

The lst bit was made up......i just said "Nice Shoes" and carried on.

that's sick man.
just plain old sickness personified.
Needless to say i'm never noticing guys shoes ever again.

Am i a Loser??

1. Cos i've been in Delhi my whole life...a city i hate.

2.That i stick around in Delhi when i don't like my group of friends,i don't like my lifestyle and i don't do anything to change it?

3.Cos i got two left feet?

4.Cos i aren't a punjabi?

5.Cos i continue working in a job i hate just cos it pays well?

6.That i keep running away from women who are the most intelligent and interesting people i've ever met just cos i think they're getting too close?

7.A relationship scares me?

8.I don't talk about my emotions?

9. I'm obsessed with things i don't have just cos other's have them.

10.Cos i'm too lazy to change myself. The unknown scares me away.

(2:30am on a sunday night. 2007.
let's see how this sounds 6 months from now.)

This is why Formula 1 rules all!!

Fuck cricket man. Formula 1 is for people way more talented and committed and ballsy than our useless-assed,hiding behind armour and still pissing in their pants, weak-kneed cricketers.
And for those of you doubting thomases out there, i've gone and got some proof:

This is the absolute Shit!!!

The most educative while at the same time enjoyable video i have ever seen about that most popular of human activities--copulation, i.e. sex, for all you horny,dumb fucks out there.
As usual the chinks do it differently, cos in case you haven't already noticed, babes, there ain't no gravity in China Town.
No, but seriously, too funny to be missed!

Fresh Video from BlogTelevision.net (Source)

This is what passes as Airhostesses!!!

The most "awesome air hostesses " in the domestic skies.
rate them for yourselves. and i've got all their phone numbers.

P.S. they're all Delhi behenjis......anyone know of any Bombay babes???

If you can't see the pics.....check out this site---batch173.shutterfly.com

Punjabi chuts

Why do all Punjabi's have to be such ass-licking, cunt-fucking, ignorant bitches???
You have your exceptions but the vast majority of you'll are just horny, dim-witted tits just after the first hole you can fit your dick into, and it doesn't seem to matter to you guys if that person is related to you in any way.
Punjabi's motto in life--Got a hole--will fuck.everything else sucks.

lonelyplanet

No wonder they call it the Lonely Planet.
We're all in the midst of billions of people and yet, effectively, we're all alone. There's no better example of this than the teeming metropolis of India that is Bombay.(only the tits in the neta suits call it Mumbai), but back to the point, millions of people, pushing and shoving you every single day, and yet each one all alone.
Like me, and yet so unlike me.
That's the point of contradictions, they never make any sense.
This blows.

Mosquito curls!

The best way to kill a mosquito this summer.
As you all know, Mosquito season is fast approaching and you need all the tactical information you can muster in order to beat the buzz of those microscope scavengers. Listed below is a tried and tested method to KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS.(Besides calling in the US army in order to achieve democracy among the mosquito population.)

1. Do Not, repeat, Do not have bath for minimum three days. Mosquito, hitherto referred to as "they", are attracted to smell and the process of not bathing for three days, will help alleviate Delhi's water problem as well as help you build up a suitable stink to attract enough of them for this process to be viable.

2. After suitable stink has been obtained, double check with friends/relatives who can back up your opinion of stinkiness or help in making you stink that little bit more that can be the difference between beating the menace or aiding it.

3. Open bathroom door and leave open for upto 2 hours. Leaving door open is vital to draw them out of the battlefield of your bedroom/living room or any other room where they might obtain unfair advantage due to strength of numbers.this step involves providing suitable invitation to enter the bathroom, therefore it is imperative that you are present in the bathroom for the mentioned period of time.

4. Take water and wet the complete floor making sure entire floor is covered with water. this should not be a problem considering that you have saved enough water during the last couple of days, not having bathed.

5. Squat on the floor and expose smelly, hairy legs and forearms. your face should not be more than a foot or so away from the floor otherwise efficacy of the whole program will be negated.

6. "They" will be automatically attracted to smell. once they are hovering suitably close, take deep intake of breath and pointing outlet, namely your mouth, in direction of hovering fuckups, exhale viciously, aka blow on them.
This step effectively stuns them and redirects their flight toward the aforementioned wet floor which, in collusion with you, sticks them to the floor and prevents them from taking off again.
This should effectively immobilise them in order for you take the first step towards making your living abode a Mosquito-free zone.

Remember, That which stings does not always bite, and when you need a bite, Sting ain't gonna help you!!!

The Best/only way to take a shower-The truth.

1. Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them in a pile.

2. Walk naked to the bathroom. If you see GF along the way, shake sausage/wiener at her making the 'woo-woo' sound.

3. Look at your manly physique in the mirror. Admire the size of your manhood and scratch your ass.

4. Get in the shower.

5. Wash your face.

6. Wash your armpits.

7. Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse them off.

8. Make fart noises (real or artificial) and laugh at how loud they sound in the shower.

9. Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.

10. Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.

11. Shampoo your hair.

12. Make a Shampoo Mohawk/Spikes/Ponytail depending upon whether you're Malayalee, Punjabi or Goan.

13. Pee.

14. Rinse off and get out of shower.

15. Partially dry off. Fail to notice water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub the whole time.

16. Admire size in mirror again.

17. Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, light and fan(exhaust) on.

18. Return to bedroom with towel around your waist. If you pass GF, pull off towel, shake cucumber at her and make the 'woo-woo'sound again.

19. Throw wet towel on bed.


Never trust the woman who gives you the best blow job you've ever had..

The dragon called Vertex!

Gautam Sehgal.
That's the name of the stinkin', cowardly, ball-less manager in Vertex. You want to know why he ain't got no balls? Fine.
Saturday night.December 17th,2005. Private party for Vertex going on at Odyssey, Sahara mall. Restricted entry.
We arrive at Sahara Mall at about 11p.m.Mr. Junior goes into Odyssey for his party, me, JX and another girl go into "Last Chance" to pass time. a half-hour later we get bored of that DJ. we go upto the Odyssey bouncer, 200 bucks for each of us, a total of Rs. 600 goes into his pocket and all three are into the private party.
Now the fun begins.
One of the girls in our group gets molested while dancing, she went up to the Sehgal cunt and complained, he laughed and says, "I'll look into it." 10 minutes later, this girl gets molested again by the exact same guy who then pushes off from the party. The Sehgal motherfucker comes out, looks around briefly, and makes to walk back into the party. Me and JX got pissed off cos this girl is like a sister. So we confronted Gautam Sehgal's chikna ass. Part of the conversation went as follows:
JX: "Sehgal, I hate you. Vertex is one of the best places to work in, but it's people like you who spoil it."
Gautam Sehgal: "Sue me.I hate you also, and i don't give a shit what you think. you're nothing to me.
JX: "I know what you do in Vertex. All the data-fudging, screwing up people's performance ratings. Everyone knows what you're upto."
Gautam Sehgal: "Why don't you back away. Talk to me with respect."
JX: " I am. I am."
Gautam Sehgal: "You can't touch me, so just get out of here."
Me: "We can't touch you in here. come out and we'll show you."
Gautam Sehgal: "You bastard. Why don't you stay out of this."
Me: "Why are you abusing?"
Gautam Sehgal: "Shutup and get out of here.JX, get out of here before i fuck your happiness."
Me: "Right here. RIght now. Come to the parking lot."
Gautam Sehgal: "How dare you!!"
This is when he catches hold of JX's collar. Me and JX, both caught hold of his sweater, tearing it before some other guys separated us.
meanwhile, Gautam Sehgal's testicles had developed siblings who had surrounded him wanting to know what happened. one of these Fleshy Mounds suddenly jumped at us.
Fleshy Mound: "You guys don't know me. I'm a Jat."
I'm sorry, but we just looked at him. What the fuck is a line like that supposed to do?Cure us of constipation or some other body function?

Anyway, chat finished. JX and me head downstairs while Mr. Junior takes his girlfriend and the girl who got molested out to our car ahead of us. downstairs, in the lobby, JX recognised this senior guy and went up to talk to him.
Now JX is this really casual guy who has seen everything that life has to offer, from girlfriends, orgies, life-threatening accidents, birth, death,blood, dope, pain, gain, everything you could think of. So to see him this passionate about something means it's really big.
Anyway, i stand behind JX as he talks to this senior in the polished lobby of Sahara Mall. All of a sudden, Gautam Sehgal gets out of the lift with 10 other guys who surround us from behind. JX didn't notice and continued talking. Unprovoked, one of the managers called Xavier reaches out and slaps JX from behind. Before i can do anything, Gautam Sehgal walks up to me.
You've got to understand this is one of the ugliest, fair, fat, arrogant slobs you've ever seen. So i thought he was coming up to me to shout or something. He just reaches out and slaps me and as if on cue, 6 , yes, that's right, all 6 of his newly developed testicles pounce upon me. I started swinging wildly at any flesh i could reach but wasn't any match for 6 morons and 1 brain. the other 4 guys pounce upon an unsuspecting JX and corner him.
These guys have the advantage of numbers,so they overpower us and force us out of the lobby. meanwhile Mr.Junior(who had gone to drop his gf to the car) ran over and stopped those guys.
Those guys were such sissies that not a single punch was thrown. Bloody hell. 12 on two and we stillcame out with not a scratch. those morons of Gautam Sehgal didn't know how to fight. all they did was slap us like prostitutes repeatedly. If it weren't that we were outnumbered , Gautam Sehgal would have had the "Arse kicking" of his life.
We hung around outside Sahara mall uptil 4 that morning waiting for that mama's boy to come out, but there was no sign of his gay ass leaving the security of that building.
Gautam Sehgal, I'll tell you this much. You're one of those typical, corrupt North Indians who will resort to anything to make sure that you stay on top, at anyone's and anything's expense. You have spoilt innumerable people's lives at Vertex and ruined countless other's days on the job.

Your secrets out, asswipe. You're a marked man. If we don't break your face and rip you another asshole, you can change my name. We will get you and that's a promise. And when we do, what i'd suggest knowing what JX and Mr. Junior(state-level football players) have done to people, get in touch with those doctor's in France who did that face-transplant operation. 'Cause you're going to need one of those.

You stinkin' fat-faced, penis-loving, ass-kissing, ballless, selfish, gutless, brainless coward.
You're Fucked man. Big-time. and any one of us can screw you're happiness single-handedly.
Gautam Sehgal-Vertex's bastard.

Typical Madrasi

There once was a man from Madras,
Whose balls were made of brass.
When rubbed together
They produced stormy weather
And lightning flew out of his arse.



there was another man named Dave,
who kept a dead whore in a cave.
He said,"I admit.
I am a bit of a shit.
But think of all the money i save!"

The secret of the Muslim afterlife

Mohammed Mahmoud Mahmoud gripped the controls with a fervour that turned his knuckles a marbled brown. Beside him, his Brother Ackham bin Al'Din chanted loudly. The Quranic verses soaked through the cockpit with a strengthening power that was nothing short of magical. "We are changing history, my brother" he yelled, "The world of the infidel is at an end." As the looming grey face of the World Trade Center's Northern tower obscured his view, Mahmoud joined his brothers chant. He felt the shock of impact, then blackness. +++

Mohammed Mahmoud Mahmoud woke, but did not open his eyes. The subtle sound of a sitar, playing with a muffled twang as if from behind a curtain, fell to his ears. The soft scent of vanilla wafted over his skin and he felt soft pilows underneath his body. After absorbing the essence of relaxation, he slowly opened his eyes. He smiled. Couched before him, in a low pit, his gaze passed over the reclining shapes of dozens of gorgeous women. The embodiments of female beauty, each woman was clothed in the lightest cloth. The soft wind that carried the incense through the room fluttered their veils. "Allah be praised" Mahmoud whispered. "72 virgins!" The beauties smiled at him, and some began to crawl forward, oozing seduction. +++





God had his finger through the grip of a pair of scissors and was seeing how fast he could spin them around when the pitter-patter of sandals grabbed his attention. His door slammed open and he recognised his visitor just by the laborious way in which he drew breath. "What the fuck is going on?" yelled Jesus, wiping a thin slick of sweat from his brow. God spun around in his chair to face Jesus, and cocked an eyebrow. "What?" he intoned. "The pilot!" Jesus screamed, holding out his hands "the fucking pilot! You gave him 72 virgins after he killed all those people!" "Oh, did I?" said God, smiling, as if he had only just realised. "Don't fuck with me, Dad." warned Jesus, shaking his heavy locks over his face, "What is going on?" "Take a seat, Jesus" said God, patting the chair beside him, "I'll show you what happens to Muslim extremists and their 72 virgins". +++





1 year later, Jesus sat beside God and slapped his knee, spilling popcorn everywhere. "AAAAAAAAHAHAHAAHhahahahahahah" he guffawed. God picked up some of the fallen popcorn and popped it in his mouth. "See," he said to Jesus, who was trying not to choke with laughter. "Fucking hell, fucking hell, fucking hell, THAT'S FUNNY!" he roared, his face beet-red. "Not bad, hey" said God, leaning back. On the viewfinder, Mohammed Mahmoud Mahmoud was nearly in tears. In the background, two women were fighting each other while a third stood nose-to-nose with Mahmoud and screamed at his face "And if you don't clean up some of these pillows i swear... oh you just wait and see, Mister" A new noise emerged, that of a baby crying. Soon, it was joined by the screeching of what sounded like hundreds of babies. "MAHMOUD" the cry echoed through the small pit, "MAHMOUD I NEED DIAPERS" The voiced was soon joined by others, making a shrill cacophony that ripped the atmosphere like a blade. "Mahmoud i need baby oil" "Mahmoud, Abdul is hungry" "Mahmoud, where's my necklace?" "THIS IS NOT HOW IT WAS MEANT TO BE" wailed Mahmoud, pounding his head against the ground. With a small pop, God appeared in front of him. "Hey, buddy" said God, casually flipping a coin from one hand to the other. "Wha... wha... what is going on?" choked Abdul. "Well," said God, still flipping the coin, "for your crimes against humanity, i thought a fitting 0punishment would be 1 year with 72 virgins..." "Yes, yes" said Mahmoud, his face lightening "...then eternity with 72 women." God's laughter as he disappeared was masked only by Mahmoud's screams of absolute agony.

I am afraid of Britney Spears!!

Why I hate Rani Mukherjee.
She looks like a cow.
She's got the thighs of a banyan tree.
She's got the voice of a Siberian Husky(The kind found drawing toboggans through wintry Arctic climes on Discovery Channel documentaries.)
She's got the hair of a balding cocker spaniel.
She's got the cheeks of a double jointed mongolian pumpkin.
She's got the cheeks(facial) of a bulldong...sorry....bulldog on a high protein diet.
She's about as tall as Mini Me.(Think Austin Powers, people.)


For further entertainment, substitute above mentioned name with any of the following in any order.
Raveena Tandon, Tabu, Deepal Paw, Nipple Khanna, Madhuri Bigshit, Juhi Chawla, Preity Zinta, Urmila Machodkar, Laila My-arse, etc...etc!!

Du Hast!

Just found out that one of the guys who hired me as a copywriter in this agency hates my guts. And Why??Cos i turned out to be not as creative as he thought i would be. HELLO!!!Creativity is subjective, u tit.
Or maybe you didn't realise that. I should've guessed. It's probably because of those pants you wear. Research has proven that if you wear your pants too close to your nipples, the fork cuts off circulation to your dick, and increases the blood flow to the chest cavity, thereby inhibiting your sex life as well as prohibiting proper brain functioning. Also, when you pull the pants way upto your chest, you look like a clod which will result in unusual cravings for bovine feed such as grass and plastic bags.
It also tends to drive away all forms of female life in the vicinity-- as in the only other female in the agency, who resigned because of you yesterday, as well as your wife, with whom you have yet to bear child despite being married and horny for the best part of the last 28 years.
This style of dressing does tend to appeal to wannabe Art directors, who copy the moustaches of more famous and successful people such as Piyush Pandey, thus qualifying himself to be know as the next Pandu.
Caution: sending above two mentioned characters for nude calendar shoot will entail untold misery and harassment for the agency.
You have been forewarned.(Now i've got to get the agency guys to read this.)

Fatboy Slim is Fucking in heaven!!

stupid fucking people. everyone's fucking stupid. fucked up bloggers with their penchant for writing poetry. crazy fucking poetry. all those fuckers are just wannabe cabaret dancers...trying to get anyone to take a good look at their fucking goods...in the hope that some fucker will like what he sees.stop writing motha fucking shit. no ones gives a flying fuck. we're not all fucked up voyeurs. we ain't gonna read it.
i don't know why the fuck i'm going on with the "we"??it's just me. i don't wanna read your fuckshit. i want to flush it the fuck down the toilet. it's boring. it's stupid. and it's not got no fuckin' content. who gives a volcanic fuck if your friend died?or broke up with you to sleep with your foster mom?who just had a sex change operation??fuck this shit!!get a fucking life. unlike me.

cos all i do if go to fucking office and come the fuck back. sit on the net till it's too wildly fucking late and then i don't get enough fucking shuteye to get up in time for office..which starts the whole fucking cycle all over again.
everyone. everything. including this fucking post. life's a bitch. it fucks everyone. no one dies a fucking virgin. which means that sex is fucking overrated. cos whether you do it with a guy or a girl, with an animal or machine, you'll still get some almighty fuckin, whether you like it or not. whether you're prepared for it or not.
MORAL: one condom is better than two. but chocochip icecream rules the whole fucking planet.

P.S. read this and fuckin' weep cos this post's cummin' off as soon as i think up something to post.
Fuck the peace.

thing's i'll never do/see/whatever!!!

1.Watch another Hindi movie in a cinema.(or anywhere else, if i can help it.)

2.Listen to another Hindi film son.(or any Hindi song for that matter--love songs, all of them[sic])

3.Play professional football for a state level club.

4. Drive a Formula 1 car.

5.Meet Aishwarya Rai.

6.Swim.

7.Weight over 65 kilos.(try as hard as i might)

8.Be a big shot creative director at a big shot ad agency.(i'm trying a variation on reverse psychology here.)

9. Stop finding people's discomfort and pain funny.

10. Get over my fetish for women's noses.(not boobs, not asses nor legs.)

11.Ever stop liking Third Eye Blind.

12.Stop liking cricket.

13.Go to G.B. Road.

14.Be able to finish a whole quarter bottle of vodka.

15.Play in a rock band.(how i wish that weren't true.)

16.Be able to love Rebecca the way she does me.

17.Ever get in touch with Nitya again.

18.Have Brett Lee's perfect bowling action.

19.Watch Them Clones at Glastonbury...live.(Ever!!!)

How's it going to be?When you don't know me...

The Guys' Rules
At last, a guy who has taken the time to write this down.We always hear "the rules" From the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side.These are all numbered "1" ON PURPOSE!

1. Men are NOT mind readers.

1. Learn to work the toilet seat.You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down. We need it up, you need it down. You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1. Shopping is NOT a sport.And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1. Crying is blackmail.

1. Ask for what you want.Let us be clear on this one:Subtle hints do not work! Strong hints do not work! Obvious hints do not work!Just say it!

1. Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1. Come to us with a problem ONLY if you want help solving it. That's what we do. Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 Days.

1. If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act likesoap opera guys.

1. If you think you're fat, you probably are. Don't ask us.

1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one .

1. You can either ask us to do something Or tell us how you want it done. Not both. If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1. Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, NOT A color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

1. If it itches, it will Be scratched. We do that.

1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong.We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, Expect an answer you don't want to hear.1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear Is fine...Really.

1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as cars, motorcycles, shooting or our hobby.

1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape!

1. Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; but did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping.

Pass this to as many men as you can to give them some guide lines.Pass this to as many women as you can to give them an insight to the truth. Not the truth as it exists in their twisted universe, but the actual MALE truth.

Americans are stupid

and there's the proof. how in da crap do you get in such a mess?? imagine explaining that to the first coppers on the scene.

Bunch of friggin' dumbasses.

The ten Facts of life!!!

Number 10 - Life is sexually transmitted.
Number 9 - Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.
Number 8 - Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich!
Number 7 - Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won’t bother you for weeks.
Number 6 - Some people are like a Slinky…..not really good for anything, but you still can’t help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.
Number 5 - Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.
Number 4 - All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.
Number 3 - Why does a slight tax increase cost you two thousand rupaiyas and a substantial tax cut saves you thirty rupees?
Number 2 - In the 60’s, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.
AND THE NUMBER ONE THOUGHT FOR THIS WEEK:We know exactly where one cow with mad-cow-disease is located among the millions and millions of cows in China but we haven’t got a clue as to where thousands of illegal immigrants and terrorists are located. Maybe we should put the Department of Agriculture in charge of immigration.

Homophobe

I was walking in the Green Park market a couple of days back and saw this couple, one person was wearing tight jeans and the other was wearing a skirt and top. Knowing the vagaries of today's fashion, it was too unclear a view from behind to fathom a guess as to the sex of each of those two. But shortly we caught up with them and lo and behold, the one in the tight black pair of jeans with the wiggling behind was a guy. Disgusting.
Guys don't wiggle their asses or wear tight jeans. Neither, for that matter do they get their right ears pierced. That wasn't the way we were made and it's not the way we should be. I'm petrified of Homosexuals. I have no idea why, but just the very sight of one is disgusting. People talk about respecting other people's lifestyle choices. Well, to that i say, STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE.
Gay psycho-fucks. Sodomy is not something that was handed down from above when HE was making us. It's the reason gays cannot procreate naturally. Cos they weren't meant to be. We were not meant to have two fathers or two mothers. You get one of each. A nice balanced family.
Anyone with half an education is going to call me backward and whatever else. Fuck You.
No gays--A better world. No more perverts.
What we should do is dedicate an island off the coast of Antartica or something. Like a leper colony. Anyone who wants to be openly gay can indulge his fantasy with like-minded people there, away from the gazes of normal, sane people.
That's a pretty good idea actually. Put yellow stars around all gays and transport them by the truckload to that bloody island. Then lets see how many people are born gay.!!!

Indian Broadband sucks!

Indian Broadband sucks!
I don't know what i'm rambling on about. It's nearly 4:30 A.M. and i still havent found any half-decent porn movie to download today.
I've got a 256KbPS connection and i'm just looking at the connection speeds of some of the people i'm downloading from....!1MBPS.....3MBPS......jeeeeeezzzz.
And Sify advertises this connection as high-speed internet. Wake up India. Broadband is classified as connection speeds of 256 and above, which means i'm barely subsisting.
This sucks, big time.
Somebody sue Sify. And while you're at it, rope in Airtel as defendants too, since they're no better.

blogs suck

mah first ever blog.......mah first ever post in mah first ever blog.
all seniors are out at meetings and i'm alone in the office so i've taken this time to start up this blog.
seeing as i could never keep a diary regularly enough, this project might appear doomed to failure right from the outset, but as usual, with all new endeavours...hope springs anew.
i've been reading some other blogs and the only thing which prevented me from keeping one of my own was the fact that most of them are so effin' boring. y is that??
my blog might not turn out to be the most interesting one, but at least it is never going to a diatribe against the rights and wrongs that afflict our personal worlds.
anyway, now for the juicy stuff. i'm a copywriter working in this little ad agency in green park,New Delhi. people on the outside of the advertising world watch ads on TV, see ads in the papers and everyone goes, "what shit! i can do better stuff." i used to be one of those people, until i got into the industry and found out exactly how tough it is to come up with an idea to sell a product. but more on my shitty job later.
anyway, this blog is going to strive to be the antithesis of the generic blog, no well written babbling on the ills confronting our daily lives......just a brief note on the ills that befall me.
signing off now....4:35 p.m. on the 8th, november,2005......