When leaving a friend's place one must always remember to sign OUT of his/her computer. Otherwise terrible consequences follow.
On the other hand, this might not be a good resolution to take for 2011, as it provides said friends with much sadistic slapstick humour.
And , after all, my aim in life is to be of entertainment to those around me, no matter at what cost to selfish egoistitude. (Word. Fact. Let it Be.)
Ego? Heck, I don't give a crow's fart about ego. (Mainly because crows don't fart. They rumble maybe, but I have NEVER heard a crow fart and if you are able to prove me wrong, I'll give you a THOUSAND, no 2 THOUSAND, no, A GAZILLION MILLION THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!!!!!! - that's how generous I am-.)
Where...? Oh, yeah, the crow's fart. Yeah, well, I don't give a crow's fart about ego because I'm anti-ego. I'm selfless. I'm against megalomania and all that stuff. Heck, I have no idea what it means, seeing as how there is no room for the 'me' psyche in the new...erm...myself.
In fact, if people are going to go about laughing at the grass/weeds/whatever-you-will atop my (apparently) fertile,soft skull, I wouldn't mind. Infact, I'd laugh right along and bring along a few mirrors for the folks at the back. This, you see is the new myself.
Thank you.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Season's Greetings
Jingle bells, I fortell,
That zombies you shall meet.
To run or fight or break their ranks,
Of foot be a little fleet.
Hey!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
March of the Red Pants Brigade
Six
rabbits walking side by side,
Chests
high, hearts full of pride,
Jackets,
filled to the brim inside,
With
carbines and Uzis, and some cyanide.
To stick
to the schedule they take the train,
The
hour-long journey - always a pain,
Soon will
they start this unholy campaign,
As one
breaks out in brassy refrain:
"Six
rabbits are we, out after glory,
Looking
out to make our very own story,
A half
dozen recruits, all white and fluffy,
To show
the world a memento mori."
Now did
they arrive at a station gigantic,
Pedestrians
aloof, bustling frantic,
Rabbit
One announced, "Listen up fellow manics,
For 'tis
time to set up a panic!"
The jackets were thrown, the weapons brandished,
The air
was set afire with bullets lavished,
Rabbit
Two calls out to those visibly anguished,
"All
hear, thee knaves! We declare thee vanquished!"
Now for R
Four's chance to speak,
"Us
rabbits you may think us lowly and weak,
Cuddly
and cute, lacking physique,
But you
have wronged us this last time, you sneaks!
For we
refuse to eat any more of that disgusting leek!"
Hostages
were rounded into a herd,
Of the
men present, they chose roughly a third,
The rest,
their protests to long cuddly ears unheard,
Silenced
in a quiet spot, and fed to the birds.
For the
surviving victims, they had other plans,
All made
to wear some ghastly red pants,
Stuffed
in the nearby call-taxi minivans,
Fastrack
never had such a large collection of fans.
Shipped
off to the TV station, where R Six had gone ahead,
And
neutralized any opposition by feeding them lead,
Shoved
into the studio, where the news was being read,
"Showcase
these embarrassments to the world!", he said.
The Six
O'clock news that day was quite scary,
An entire
nation, aghast at such fashion so dreary,
For each,
in his own blood red ferrari,
Was a
sight to see. Oh! How eerie!
Finally
did number Five, as leader of the troupe,
Speak out
on national telly, with a big whoop,
"Fear
us, puny humans. We set up this coup,
And can
take you all out with one fell swoop."
His
bloodshot eyes raced across the screen as he continued on,
"Now
you shall listen you us, all you hell spawn.
For years
have we faced humiliation and defeat.
Are we
meant to be cuddled? I think not, you pieces of meat!"
"Now
be wary of us, we have the ultimate weapon,
These red
pants, the devils do they beckon.
The
source of your power is fashion, we reckon
With
threat of these pants, your loyalties you will question."
"So
submit to our will, we won't put you in a cage,
Like you
did to us, we're much more like a sage,
Though
opposing our faction will earn you our rage…"
That's
when the SWAT team broke into the stage.
For the
next ten minutes, on live TV was shown,
A
gruesome firefight, the likes never known,
Smoke
from all sides, as the usurpers lost their newfound throne,
A cuddly
white rabbit corpse, across the screen was blown.
A week
later, in the President's official address,
"Fear
not, my people. The issue has been regressed,
The
rabbits are now honored citizens, made into the noblesse,
But I'd
caution you to watch out when you next see them nevertheless."
Taxonomy :
Fashion,
Insane Poetry,
Rabbits,
WMD
Saturday, September 4, 2010
A Lost Ride
The winds
blow high,
And sweep
our bleak, deserted stations dry.
An
ancient ritual has begun,
A
forbidden taboo not to be sung,
For upon
a moonlit plain there lies,
A lone
cycle, as I raise a bitter cry.
Twice
now, as I have gazed,
My cycle,
leaving me utterly fazed,
Has left
be behind, and yet again,
I have to
question what is preordained.
A year
past, this had happened once,
A feeble
lock, weak to the pounce,
Gave way
to the Lurker, waiting in the shadows,
Dragged
off to Neverland, I let loose my arrows.
Upon
borrowed cycle, I queried the streets,
High and
low, finally in bitter defeat.
But lo!
For there it was!
Outside
sinister Tapti. An early gift from
Clause.
Now a
rerun, I tire of this, whereupon,
Yet again
have I run the marathon.
Now I
give, for history does not repeat,
Again
will I find it? My luck is deplete.
So I turn
to you now, help me out here a little?
Keep your
eyes open, and answer my riddle -
For what
Red has two wheels, a rusted bell,
An Axn
Dx, with "Turbodrive" pommell?
Branded
upon it side, my name,
Anoop V,
in faded letters of fame,
A number
to further open the door:
NA09B004.
Find it
you must, my legs plead,
For a
kilometre they cannot, so godspeed,
Treats in
plenty I will put,
So get
out there, the race is afoot!
Taxonomy :
Cycle,
Insane Poetry,
Publicity,
Rewards
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A Moment's paradise
Study I
must,
For a
Quiz approaches,
Baring
its fangs,
Oh! The
molasses!
Impromptu
answers,
And arbit
guesswork,
Saved me
last time. Now,
I fear,
twice it will not work.
Aiming in
the dark
And
taking blind shots.
Oh Joy!
I've found,
A book of
reference of sorts!
Now I can
pass!
If only I
had,
The
determination to read,
More than
one page, so sad.
The
sandman draws near,
My head
feels like lead,
I now see
the light,
Paradise
ahead!
Awake,
and I find,
Verses of
wit beyond compare,
So now I
write this ode,
To waste
more time. So there!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
The Enlightened State
Nor is it a world for the poor or portly. In this world, you need to have enough dough to tide you through the hard times; which, as much as we may tell ourselves otherwise, will fundamentally be our whole life. And let's not forget the number one rule of survival - Cardio. When the zombie epidemic breaks out, you'll need to be in shape to outrun those ugly freaks.
I have spent several weeks in quiet Contemplation and serene Deep Thought under the expansive canopy of the great Compaq Tree, and have realized and understood the fundamental concept - the truth, as it were - behind my current existence. The concept is, quite simply, that I am not growing this hair; indeed not, for the hair is growing me.
At first, I was quite hesitant to acknowledge such a twisted, yet deceptively simple truth. Yet as I thought upon it, I realized that if I took it as a central axiom, it would lead to the unravelling of mountains upon mountains of other, not so obvious deceptions that we have been plagued with since the beginning of time. Even with my relative ineptitude in solving our weekly math tutorials, I was still able to formulate an expansive matrix of differential equations (hereby referred to as the Quirk Matrix), which has led me to the following conclusions and notes:
- The earth is not a sphere, or even geoid. Look carefully, and you'll notice that you're not standing on a ball. Instead, we happen to be inhabiting a giant rotating coffee mug. Yes, that’s right, a coffee mug. Don't look at me like that. It's true!
- We are all governed over by an omniscient, semi-all-powerful entity who secretly decides our fate with random lotteries, and he takes the form of a weird old sadistic hippie named Clotholachesis Atropos. He likes to experiment on us in order to get data for his slightly large doctorate thesis on Human and Great Ape Psychology, which he's currently doing in the University of North Carolina.
- Every time a picture is taken of you on a camera, a tiny part of your soul is transferred onto the image. As the soul is an imperfect entity that causes you to be unique, as more of it is taken away, the more perfect you become as a human being. Of course, soul-size is also proportional to mental capacity. This is why so many celebrities end up going crazy early on in life.
- People seem to be mistakenly thinking that we evolved from the apes. That’s a lie, if ever there was one. We just suddenly appeared in a puff of smoke, and all those weird similarities in bone structure and DNA between us and the rest of the animals are just meant to confound us and stop us from finding out about the Truth.
- I have some shocking news about Ni-MH batteries. Contrary to current belief, continuous use of such potential hazards causes the generation of sub-sonic hailstorms on Titan, and is the primary reason for obesity in South-Antarctican emperor penguins ( the secondary reason being the onset of the Ice Age). Store owners also charge you electric amounts for each, further adding to their heinous evilness.
- Eating cake is good for the body. Not only does it add Omega-4 fatty acids that improve your mental powers, but it also detoxifies your body by absorbing all impurities into its spongy mass. This is especially true of sinful, rich chocolate cake and brownies served with ice-cream. A side-equation I have not had the time to solve yet seems to hint at dipping the cake in concentrated sulfuric acid to increase the tang. The equation itself is quite complicated, so rather than solve it, I shall be field testing it on a few acquaintances.
- This little corollary is just a little note for all those sophisticated ladies out there - if you had any sense, you would not be expecting a guy to compliment you. When wearing a beautiful new dress and meeting a guy, if he comments lucidly about the wonderful hues or how those earrings bring out your eyes, keep in mind that this guy is just another player, and that his mind is probably filled with some very lucid fantasies involving you. Someone who is truly taken aback by your beauty will simply be awestruck and lost for words. He will be too shy to speak to this goddess, and so will simply avoid speaking on this topic. For some reason, I've noticed that most girls take it the opposite way, and get angry when their escorts apparently don't notice their new hairdo. Sheesh. Women! Go figure.
Upto this point in time, this is how far I have come with translating my Quirk Matrix. Further enlightenment will take more time and effort, and so I am now hiring more manpower.
Disclaimer
All articles published here are purely fictional and based on the author's deranged imagination. Any and all relations to any persons and/or copyrighted names are probably true, but just pretend they're not. Also, I will flatly deny all charges of plagiarism.
If you suffer from heart disease, are pregnant, or are below a height of 176 cm. from sea-level, please do not read these articles. They are likely to cause strokes or suicidal tendencies, and any abnormal symptoms should be immediately treated with a dose of morphine.
Also, the author will not take responsibility for any cases of readers being taken away in straightjackets. In case of such a discrepancy, please ask to be lodged in Arkham, where the author is currently taking residence.
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