Billions Of Billious Blue Blistering Barnacles

Since this idea was concieved at 3 am I take no blame for the harm it causes to anyone’s intellect.

What do you call it when Clint Eastwood gets a sex change ?

A- Change”ling”

With everyone saying how shameful, the whole thing has been and that both Bhajji and the Malyalee Monkey are responsible for it (One of them more than the other.)and that both have come out for the worse (as analysed By Ramanand).

Physical violence has no place in cricket, and that Harbhajan should face the music.

But because of the carefully developed and ridiculously weird thinking pattern that I have , I disagree.

So this is my way of supporting the likes of India TV and other channels (Nothing compares to India TV though) and there a la’ juggernaut ,search for sensational news (found or made, doesnt make much difference) I am writing the following part–

A CONSPIRACY THEORY

I think the whole thing is an orchestrated event. As everyone had seen, after the initial matches , the ratings and the attendance had been falling, because the novelty factor was gone.

So what does Mr.Modi decide to do.

A controversy. Nothing grabs you by the balls as hard as a juicy controversy.

So he asks Bhajji to step up for the collective good and be the “Bali Ka Bakra”. Me thinks Bhajji is being compensated well for doing this and facing the ban. As for Sreesanth, this might have been a pathetic attempt at rebuilding his image. Going from a smoke sprouting (I dont think there ever was any fire to back it) ,dancing , boastful monkey to a 4 year old who is crying cause he got slapped.

There are so many signs that this is an acted event.

Why would Bhajji go and slap Sreesanth? Too unprofessional for anyone.

Why didn’t our fireband retaliate. Any normal person on being hit retaliates.

Why is everything being done behind the doors?

Why did the “K-League” dialogue of “Bade Bhayya” came into the play?

Why are there claims of Punching AND slapping now?

The most reasonable explanation is that Modi wants to make it a masala blockbuster, with something for everyone.

The fans have their cricket.

The ladies have their soap style drama and sentiments.

The non-cricket fans get to see a fusion of cricket and “muay thai” (Thai Kick Boxing).

A diabolical plan indeed Mr.Modi, Bravo.

PS_ My suspicions will be confirmed if they start advertising their matches as “Rumble In The Jungle” etc. etc. .

This has to be the worst joke anyone has ever msged/told me.

—————-

What do you call a girl who has dated men before you?

Predated.

What do you call yourself?

Predator

—————

I challange anyone to come up with a joke to compete with this, in the race towards the deepest pits of the Mines of Moria.

Or should I say Mount Doom? (It will remove the possibility of this joke ever being resurrected. I am pretty sure Mount Doom was the source though.)

Never ever go to a place for dinner, which is not full to the capacity on a Sunday night.

Be smart and follow the mob.

Is it just me , or does anyone else thinks too that the VODAFONE guy and gal(the animated ones) at the bottom of the screen during the IPL matches make the Meg Ryan in “Harry Met Sally” noises before climbing up a wall???

I have never been a very religious person. But now I have seen the error of my ways. I have seen the light (And the Halogen Lamp emitting it.) .

I am converting. From an occasional Hindu, to a devout Pastafarian.

ALL HAIL THE “FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER” ….Now here is a God that you can eat.

PS__New discoveries

There are a few worries–

As per the directives of the Pastafarian wing (The kitchen part) of The Western Branch of American Reform Presbylutheranism (A branch of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster) I have to be “touched by his noodly appendages”.

Disclaimer–The Reform Presbylutheranism is wrongly quoted in THE SIMPSONS to be a protestant church. It is just the set up used by our beloved Rev.Lovejoy to get money from the govt.(If any money is left after the wars and the donations to Synagogs)

At first I thought it would symbolic.

However I didn’t know that this “initiation” was a very literal process. After seeing the initiation pics of a young and “rompant” Max Mosely , I have become very very suspicious of this religion and will wait & see for a while before going ahead with my conversion.

Here, we have a “touching” painting of the The Saintly Mr.Mosely discovering new moves not mentioned in the kinkiest sex book one could find (including Kamasutra).

This inspired the cult classic “The Noodle and The Cock”.

But I have to say ; this procedure opened up a whole new genre of Porn to me. Never knew that “Shagadilic Spaghedeity” , “Divine Dicks” and “Religious Romps” were TWBOARP (The name of the church mentioned above) sponsored movies, shot against the ceiling. (These stunts were enabled by the slimy hold of the great “Spaghetti Monster”).

PPS_ I just found out that our Shagadilic Spaghedeity has taken to beastiality. He was recently found ca”noodling” away to glory with the Invisible Pink Unicorn.

I had been thinking about writing on this topic for a long time . But I decided to wait in light of some recent events involving Hindi Expletives being mistaken for with an unfortunate (and due to the comparision, irate) armpit scratching , butt sniffing, fruit eating primate!

HERE GOES NOTHING —–I believe that Indian Society is one of the most racist societies in the world . And most of us are nothing but a bunch of hypocrites.

For one to identify with this view, one has to understand my definition of “Racism”.

Racism for me is a micro-entity. As in, it doesn;t have to cover huge areas. A race is not defined by the area it covers, but by the differences they have with others. India is a mixture of huge number of races. Racism is also colour based discrimination. Now although in normal jobs colour has no relevance , our society is still bound in the shackles of “Fair & Lovely” . For us anyone who is fair is good looking and with a few exceptions anyone dark is ugly,,or at least not good looking.

All these insensitive ads on TV, like the one showing a guy to be mistaken for a valet when dark and a hero when fair. This is ridiculous and really insensitive, and more importantly it stresses on the point that color is all that matters. Pushing kids (hell even adults aren’t free from this) towards hollow superficial outlook towards beauty. The number of “Fairness” (ironically I couldnt think of anything more unfair) products in the market proves that we are, deep down, nothing but racists ourselves.

Then isn’t it hypocritical of us to complain of racism outside, on cricket grounds, in houses full of mindless has-beens and nobodies trying to resurrect their careers with cheap publicity stunts.

What gives us the divine right of saying this is right, while that is wrong?

This is something that I wrote a while back…Don’t remember why, just like that I guess.

THE NIGHT TRAIN TO DEHRA (My tribute to Ruskin Bond)

“There it was….staring at me from the depths of the thick trees, like a long lost friend from the past…..some one you knew…but couldn’t quite place him……It will always live in my heart. As long as I live……..”

I always took a train from Delhi to Dehradoon. I was working in an IT firm over in New Delhi. My parents stayed in Dehradoon…something they had been doing for the past 55years. I was in Dehradoon till I was 24 and had to go to Delhi for my job. It was on that day that my eyes fell on it. Like a bright star in a dark sky…..It grabbed my attention…..I though it was a figment of my imagination…I pushed it out of my mind and went to sleep…..I thought it would be the last time I was seeing it…..But God had other plans for me …………..

Delhi was a BIG city. The pandemonium that was the capital was very different from the quiet Dehradoon…I felt lost and out of place there…like a penguin in the middle of Sahara desert.I thought that I would have no problems in adjusting …but I did. I missed the scent of the trees of Dehradoon which was replaced by the smoke coming out of vehicles and factories……the sweet song of the Mynah replaced by the noise of the city…..MOST of all I missed my parents…here I was surrounded by at least 10million people. but I felt alone….

I was coming back from Delhi for the first time. We had just entered the forest regions…it was 10 Pm and I was getting ready to fall into a deep slumber in the rocking cradle that is called a Train. And there it was again…..as bright and shining as the night I saw it for the first time….I was baffled….

It was huge a building. shining like a small sun in the pitch black blanket surrounding it….I was mesmerized by what I saw. It was like seeing Adonis in the centre of a collection of corpses. It looked like a 5 star hotel…
Now the forest that I am talking about may be home for some tribes…..but none so famous that they would be worth having a hotel for them..as the jungle there didn’t have a lot of animals and construction work was banned there for the time being due to some dispute between a furniture company and the government it was impossible ( at least legally) for someone to build even a room there. I was obviously curious now. who wouldn’t be….but ultimately my sleep overpowered my curiosity and the Sandman did his job…

I felt really happy when I was in Dehradoon…..even after living in Delhi for 8yrs now I always found it difficult to adjust…But now I knew how to survive in the race of life…I knew what I had to do …and I did it……….

My train used to pass that Hotel four times a year….it had been happening for 8yrs now…..my curiosity was growing within me….ticking like a bomb that threatened to burst any second.. And then on the auspicious night of Dipawali it happened…..the bomb exploded sending shockwaves throughout my soul…

I could not control myself anymore..I had to see that place for myself…

I knew for a fact that there was a village near that hill where this hotel was situated. I decided to get down at that station. I didn’t care if I would end up missing work; it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that Hotel.

I got down at the platform.There was no one around but a few stray dogs..I got out of the station and spotted a battered old Hansom. with its owner looking like he was taken out of a grave…I thought he was dead…he wasn’t. He stirred as he heard my footfalls against the eerie silence of that night.. He woke up gingerly and stared at me for 5 min…

Then I asked him,” Can you take me to a lodge nearby where I can get a guide?” He spoke in a wheezy voice that had Asthma written all over it,” What lodge sahib! This is a poor village of around 100 families, we don’t even have a tea shop here. Why have you come here sahib? Were you traveling without a ticket and TT threw you off the train?” I hastily said no…But before I could say anything else he said venomously,” Then you must be one of those bloodthirsty government employees who come here every now and then and take whatever money we have in the name of taxes….Go away you scoundrel. You are not welcome here”, he suddenly grew very angry…
His eyes came to life; he suddenly grew violent and for a moment looked like he was going to use his whip on me.

I realised that he was slightly mad and quickly told him the reason I was there… He looked at me warily..and said” What hotel sahib…there is no hotel there sahib….there is only jungle..!” I asked him to take me to his village.I hoped to find some sane people there. And there I was standing under a banyan tree in the middle of the village. Now since it was night time and the village had no electricity there were only a small number of people I could see.

One of them came up to me and asked,” What are you doing here sahib? Now I have spoken to old Ramlal there but I don’t believe your story.There is no hotel near that hill. I have been in this village all my life and I know that there is nothing remotely like a hotel there.If you want us to help you please tell us the truth.!” I laughed at him…not a mean laugh….but a laugh caused by his innocence and suspicion.. I told him that I knew what I had seen and I just needed a place to stay for the night and I needed a guide who could take me to my destination because I didn’t fancy going out in the jungle alone. He said that I have to sleep under the tree. They provided me matress and sheets. I spent my night sleeping in installments.

 I was very restless. I kept having a weird dream that I was standing in front of big building shining in all its glory with a sign that read “DOON INTERNATIONAL”. As my hand reached out to grab the doorknob of its entrance ,I always woke up.

I woke up in the morning when I realised I was being licked by something…It was a dog. I woke up with a start and the dog ran away. I spotted the man who had spoken to me last night….He was washing his hands..I went to him and asked for some water and washed my face. Then I again asked him for a guide.He said that even though he didn’t believe my story but he was sure that I was a good man. So he called up a youth about 6 feet tall who looked like a wrestling champion.
His name was Ballu.

Ballu agreed to take me to the spot I had told him about for 500 Rs. It was more than what he earned in a month. We gathered the required things and started for our goal…. The jungle was thick..I was unable to see anything beyond a distance of 5mtrs. We kept on walking. I could hardly keep up with Ballu..He was walking with a speed and comfort that told me that he knew this jungle well. We rested for a few minutes and had our lunch. Ballu told me that we were near to the spot where according to me the hotel was located. I could feel the adrenaline flowing through my veins. I felt like a crack addict at that moment. I was intoxicated with excitement and anticipation. As we walked I started to wonder why we hadnt reached it till now..

We reached a spot where the hill took a turning…I could sense that I was near my destination. I could smell it in the air. We turned and I recieved the biggest shock of my life. There was a building there alright…It was a big old Fort….which looked as if it was as old as time itself….there was no hotel there…..
Nothing at all…..I shouted at the top of my voice,”NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

I refused to believe what I was seeing …..I guess I still refuse to believe what I saw…………

It couldn’t be….It couldn’t be…………………………………………

Well…continuing the tradition of warning my fellow Nincompoops of mistakes that might have disastrous consequences….

I had a dog(Hence the name of the blog).. A female pomerian(I know that by now many dog lovers would hav started shaking their heads).
To make it more clear, according to most people Pomerians are possibly the most irritating breed of dogs.. and female pomerians are worst still..
They just bark, bark and bark. then they get tired, eat , rest and start barking again.
We had just bought her. As you all know I was probably the most adventurous and curious kid since Calvin, I used to implement things learnt from reliable sources like Mithun movies into real life(With some not so happy endings).
So it was one fine day(my birthday) that I decided to test the famous “Battissi” phrase.
I forced open my dogs mouth and started counting(to check wether it actually had 32 ). Now Not many people know this but a dogs mouth isnt exactly the most illuminated place on earth(or good smelling)..
So I couldnt see all of her teeth..so being the genius(again read as INSANELY DUMB) that I am I started counting by touching the inner ones…
I overlooked a important fact…Dogs are living things!!
It started choking as i reached the inner teeth..
And then the Bitch(it was a female dog) closed its mouth.
A dog which had never bitten anyone in its lifetime bit its master..
Alas…I guess this is irony
(I hope PETA guys dont come after me for this…)

This not a blogpost per se ……more of a lesson to all the curious people out there who wish to unravel the mysteries of nature………
This was back in the year of 1991…it was a nice morning….sun was shining …birds were chirping ……..dogs were fighting…..you know the routine…
I was roaming around near the frontyard and it was at that moment that curiousity struck…….
Now one has to understand that human mind(specially one belonging to a 5yr old kid) is one of the weirdest things in the world….It can arrive at the stupidest of conclusions and make them look perfectly logical and intelligent…..
Something similar happened to me…..
I was a curious little child..
I saw a buffalo outside…quitely going about its buisness…
eating grass..

I couldnt take my eyes off it………
I noticed that it was black(great observation..I know)
Then my eyes fell on a piece of coal lying besides me……
and then I had a bulb moment(You know like the ones in cartoons where a bulb lights above your head)…
So I …Yash the fearless(read as “insanely dumb”) went ahead and tried to feed the buffalo that piece[(I thought the buffalo was black because it ate coal...Parents work for Coal India Ltd. , so there was a lot of coal lying around)]………with disastrous result……….
Stupid thing stepped on my fingers and shattered them to pieces……….
all the trouble just because I tried to feed it………..

Anyway…I learned a very important lesson that day…….
which i want to pass on to my friends……
STUPIDITY HURTS

PS—I have posted this before on an old blog…But I seriously doubt that anyone ever read it…