Ever heard somone leaking out family secrets?
Today, I am going to do just that. I am going to tell you one thing about my mom, dad, bro, and grandma each—that I find weird. I choose today as the day because all four things happened today. Read on.
1. Mommy - She is somehow... how do I put it... I mean... adamant. She is adamant that all meals of the day should be eaten irrespective of whatever. So, to explain this... suppose I am not hungry enough for breakfast one day. It is at about 1 o clock that I feel the craving, and I end up eating my share of parathas from the breakfast. It all sounds good till here... parathas have been yummy. But... what next? Well, she comes back at 1:20 to offer lunch! I mean.. wait... what? I just had food... didn't I? To her - breakfast and lunch are two separate things... and can even be consumed one after the other.
2. Daddy - Ever since he bought Tata Sky Plus, he is of the opinion that every damn thing in the world can be and should be recorded. That is still acceptable... but my problem starts when he treats a TV serial and a live cricket match at par. I mean he somehow manages to assign me a task at the time a live match is keeping me busy... and coolly says, record kar lo... aake dekh lena. Well, that is really irritating. A live match is supposed to be watched live - in my view. One can record a serial and watch it later... which is what he loves doing :)
3. Brother - He is in class XII... is a little shy and practical... does not open up with people easily. Moroever, this ten-year gap between us ensures we have a bada-chota kind of relationship and not the usual bhai-bhai. He comes across as a reserved person... keeping things to himself. All is well till here. My problem starts when he starts singing the songs of advertisements... when they are on air. I mean.. these are not funky punky songs... no foot-tapping numbers... but simple gharelu rhyming songs... I have never ever heard him sing any movie song... but he goes whole heartedly for the advertisement songs. I think you might not find this very weird... but considering the kind of person he is, it is weird for him to sing in open... and that too, those lousy mini songs.
4. Grandma - She is 80+ and amazingly active. That is perfect. The issue I have is this habit of hers of shaking hands. She does it only to me... I mean whenever I go and hi hello to her... she likes to shake hands. It's not terribly weird... but somewhat weird :)
That's the immediate family... and they're great!
07 April, 2010
26 March, 2010
The School tRIP
The RDX International School is the best 'terror' school in town. It boasts of producing the finest of national and international terrorists.
Just for your information, only terrorists' kids go to this school. Parents, in order to apply for their kids' admission, have to submit the application form along with a proof that they (parents) are/have been 'wanted' by the police. Moreover, a 'reward' announced by the police on any one or both parents of a kid gives them preferential treatment... of course!
The school is organizing a trip for kids, and a note about the same has been sent to parents. Here is how it reads.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear You Bloody Terror Parents,
Dhishoom dhishoom dhishkiyaon dhishkiyaon!
We have detonated a school trip for your 'future bomb' kids next month. We will first go to Pakistan, spend 15 days there, and then move to the heavenly Afghanistan. The most fun part will be the quiet and peaceful border shared by the two countries.
The whole trip is sponsored by the money received from the noble acts of extortions and kidnappings. So, you don't need to make any similar efforts and collect the money. Attendance is compulsory! Note that it is a great opportunity to see our bullets turning into grenades.
Some of the key activities of the trip will be:
1. Jigsaw Game: The kids will be taken to a nuclear power plant, and each will be given parts of a nuclear missile. They will then need to assemble the parts and create proper missiles.
2. Hide n Seek: The denner, instead of saying 'I spy', will fire rubber bullets at the 'hiding' kids. Whoever is hit first is the next denner.
3. Nursery Rhymes: We have a collection of lovely nursery rhymes that we will teach the kids. For example:
Jack and Jill went up the hill to keep an eye on the border,
Then Jack came down and so did Jill, on the commander's order!
4. Chess: We will play chess with real horses, camels, elephants, kings, and queens. The only variation from the usual version will be that this will be an all-out war like Mahabharata and not about moving here and there on those stupid black and white boxes.
5. Shooting Shooting: There will be a number of open-air shooting arenas for target practice. This includes the cool game in which some kids will keep apples on their heads while others aim and shoot.
All of the above are just a small part of excitement. There will be a lot more.
Oh… forgot to add - we will also teach your kids respect for elders. The kids will stay with our learned people who are hiding and staying in camps… there is truly a lot to learn from their experiences.
Excited? It's obviously a great opportunity!
Still thinking whether to allow your kids? You must read the note below.
NOTE: Parents not wanting to send their kids will be termed 'against' the community and shot dead. And even after that, we will still be happy to send their kids over.
Your consent will be much awaited... but only till tomorrow morning.
School misManagement,
The RDX International!
Our motto – "Bhadhaaaam & aaaaaaaaah, forever"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just for your information, only terrorists' kids go to this school. Parents, in order to apply for their kids' admission, have to submit the application form along with a proof that they (parents) are/have been 'wanted' by the police. Moreover, a 'reward' announced by the police on any one or both parents of a kid gives them preferential treatment... of course!
The school is organizing a trip for kids, and a note about the same has been sent to parents. Here is how it reads.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear You Bloody Terror Parents,
Dhishoom dhishoom dhishkiyaon dhishkiyaon!
We have detonated a school trip for your 'future bomb' kids next month. We will first go to Pakistan, spend 15 days there, and then move to the heavenly Afghanistan. The most fun part will be the quiet and peaceful border shared by the two countries.
The whole trip is sponsored by the money received from the noble acts of extortions and kidnappings. So, you don't need to make any similar efforts and collect the money. Attendance is compulsory! Note that it is a great opportunity to see our bullets turning into grenades.
Some of the key activities of the trip will be:
1. Jigsaw Game: The kids will be taken to a nuclear power plant, and each will be given parts of a nuclear missile. They will then need to assemble the parts and create proper missiles.
2. Hide n Seek: The denner, instead of saying 'I spy', will fire rubber bullets at the 'hiding' kids. Whoever is hit first is the next denner.
3. Nursery Rhymes: We have a collection of lovely nursery rhymes that we will teach the kids. For example:
Jack and Jill went up the hill to keep an eye on the border,
Then Jack came down and so did Jill, on the commander's order!
4. Chess: We will play chess with real horses, camels, elephants, kings, and queens. The only variation from the usual version will be that this will be an all-out war like Mahabharata and not about moving here and there on those stupid black and white boxes.
5. Shooting Shooting: There will be a number of open-air shooting arenas for target practice. This includes the cool game in which some kids will keep apples on their heads while others aim and shoot.
All of the above are just a small part of excitement. There will be a lot more.
Oh… forgot to add - we will also teach your kids respect for elders. The kids will stay with our learned people who are hiding and staying in camps… there is truly a lot to learn from their experiences.
Excited? It's obviously a great opportunity!
Still thinking whether to allow your kids? You must read the note below.
NOTE: Parents not wanting to send their kids will be termed 'against' the community and shot dead. And even after that, we will still be happy to send their kids over.
Your consent will be much awaited... but only till tomorrow morning.
School misManagement,
The RDX International!
Our motto – "Bhadhaaaam & aaaaaaaaah, forever"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
10 March, 2010
A Typical Unique Person
My name is Chumbhi Kumdaar, and I live in Delhi. I am unique. I say this because of what I feel and do in Delhi traffic.
Delhi traffic makes me sick. It disgusts me even when I am not in it. I don't want to go anywhere now!
What if there is traffic on the way?
I have become abusive... people don't drive properly... they have no road sense... in fact, they have no sense at all. I hate them.
Here's how I tackle 'em when something goes wrong (read: when they are at fault... I am never wrong you see):
1. Pedestrians - I stare them like I'm the king and they are my slaves. At times, I steer the car toward them. Truly, I dont care if I frighten them. They dont have any right to be on the road. They are just meant to be scared. Damn, now I remember, they don't even pay road taxes.
2. Cyclists - I have a standard one-liner for them, "Saale andhe... yahi marna hai tujhe?" What good is a cyclist's life? Bloody hundreds of them do a tour-de-France from Khanpur to Okhla and keep increasing the level of frustration they cause every day.
3. Motorcyclist
6. Kids - I ask, "Kis bevakoof ne inn ko sadak pe faink diya hai". Ahhh! I don't want anything to do with an accident involving kids who could see but acted blind while checking out the tyres of a car (when they were moving of course).
So, that's my thought process... and that's why I am unique!
Delhi traffic makes me sick. It disgusts me even when I am not in it. I don't want to go anywhere now!
What if there is traffic on the way?
I have become abusive... people don't drive properly... they have no road sense... in fact, they have no sense at all. I hate them.
Here's how I tackle 'em when something goes wrong (read: when they are at fault... I am never wrong you see):
1. Pedestrians - I stare them like I'm the king and they are my slaves. At times, I steer the car toward them. Truly, I dont care if I frighten them. They dont have any right to be on the road. They are just meant to be scared. Damn, now I remember, they don't even pay road taxes.
2. Cyclists - I have a standard one-liner for them, "Saale andhe... yahi marna hai tujhe?" What good is a cyclist's life? Bloody hundreds of them do a tour-de-France from Khanpur to Okhla and keep increasing the level of frustration they cause every day.
3. Motorcyclist
- (weaker than me) - "Dhang se chala le" - with full confidence and self-strength belief. These skinny motorcyclists are just too easy to handle. They roam around without helmet, licence, RC, Pollution... and without any respect for red lights. They don't deserve any respect.
- (stronger than me... like huge build and broad shoulders) - I just stare. I know it's usual for glitches to happen in heavy traffic. I am a nice person and I don't enjoy staring or figthing others.
- (weaker than me) - "Abbey o" should do the trick. If the person did not hear me, I could manoeuvre my car in his way... at certain angles... that tell him I am upset with his misdemeanor.
- (stronger than me) - A polite stare is what I manage. I wish I could do more.... but, you see, the world needs peace.
- (more than two men) - I don't even look at them. They didn't do anything wrong. They are good people.
6. Kids - I ask, "Kis bevakoof ne inn ko sadak pe faink diya hai". Ahhh! I don't want anything to do with an accident involving kids who could see but acted blind while checking out the tyres of a car (when they were moving of course).
So, that's my thought process... and that's why I am unique!
04 March, 2010
Game Over, Name Over
Baskar-Hai-Tauba (BHT) was the new face of terror. They had 3 executives in all and claimed to be growing strong by the minute. Anyway, the fact that they had big plans made them quite dangerous.
The story began when BHT threatened India about spoiling it's Commonwealth Games to be held in 2010. India beefed up the security but still goofed up.
The whole workforce of BHT (3) somehow managed to enter Delhi. Their plan was to spread terror by killing sportspersons... which would mean that the rest of the world would not find India 'safe' for the games... and the games would get canceled! This would be a tremendous boost for the reputation of BHT.
The targets chosen by BHT were the local sportspersons who had begun practicing a month before the actual event.
Now, BHT chose the 'practice' time over the actual event time for multiple reasons:
a. they did not have a huge manpower to plan big operations.
b. high security was expected at the actual event.
c. and most importantly, it was a known fact that practicing sportspersons seldom got high security... they were easy targets.
So, the day arrived... and the BHT men, loaded with knives and guns and other weapons, entered one of the Commonwealth Stadiums...
BOOM...one killed
BOOM...two killed
BOOM...three killed ...all killed
No security, no nothing, just innocent sportspersons... and still, the whole of BHT was killed! Terminated!
BHT men had entered the arena where sportspersons were practicing 'shooting'.
The story began when BHT threatened India about spoiling it's Commonwealth Games to be held in 2010. India beefed up the security but still goofed up.
The whole workforce of BHT (3) somehow managed to enter Delhi. Their plan was to spread terror by killing sportspersons... which would mean that the rest of the world would not find India 'safe' for the games... and the games would get canceled! This would be a tremendous boost for the reputation of BHT.
The targets chosen by BHT were the local sportspersons who had begun practicing a month before the actual event.
Now, BHT chose the 'practice' time over the actual event time for multiple reasons:
a. they did not have a huge manpower to plan big operations.
b. high security was expected at the actual event.
c. and most importantly, it was a known fact that practicing sportspersons seldom got high security... they were easy targets.
So, the day arrived... and the BHT men, loaded with knives and guns and other weapons, entered one of the Commonwealth Stadiums...
BOOM...one killed
BOOM...two killed
BOOM...three killed ...all killed
No security, no nothing, just innocent sportspersons... and still, the whole of BHT was killed! Terminated!
BHT men had entered the arena where sportspersons were practicing 'shooting'.
18 February, 2010
In Doctor Thoo's View
Recently, unique research was conducted by Doctor Thoo of China.
According to Thoo, he had invented a device that could be kept in someone's pocket and would identify the top two words spoken by him/her.
Thoo decided to travel worldwide and test the device on men. Here are some of the test results...
According to Thoo, he had invented a device that could be kept in someone's pocket and would identify the top two words spoken by him/her.
Thoo decided to travel worldwide and test the device on men. Here are some of the test results...
o
Australian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Mate
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Shark
o
American Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Coffee
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Holy
o
Japanese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Technology
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Cat
o
Chinese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Cheap
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Copy
British Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Cheeky
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Blimey
.
.
.
.
.
... and finally
Indian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Sister (बहेन)
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Mother (मादर)
Doctor Thoo published his report, titled 'Indian Men = Family Men.'
Australian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Mate
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Shark
o
American Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Coffee
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Holy
o
Japanese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Technology
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Cat
o
Chinese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Cheap
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Copy
British Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Cheeky
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Blimey
.
.
.
.
.
... and finally
Indian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Sister (बहेन)
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Mother (मादर)
Doctor Thoo published his report, titled 'Indian Men = Family Men.'
I wish his device could interpret the context those words were spoken under.
05 February, 2010
What the Ufffff
Have you ever analyzed the irritants in your life? Are they big/small/worth it?
o
I did an analysis of the petty things that turn me into a freak. I am wondering if it is ok for me to be pissed at the following:
1. When some unknown person calls and says 'aap kaun bol rahe hai'. Man... Even writing about this is making me angry. Why should I tell him/her 'mai kaun bol raha hoo'? You called, you tell me aap kaun ho... mai kyo bolu? bhaad mei jao!
2. When I have to go back to check whether I locked the car... though I know I would have done it subconsciously in the first go. But, it's so irritating to go back... and always find it locked. This is such a dilemma that I can't even risk not going back thinking the car must be locked.
3. When people say random shitty lines and make them sound like universal statements of truth by adding 'it's all about'. For example: Life is all about caring. Cricket is all about angles. Love is all about respecting... bullshit bullshit bullshit
4. When someone who's met with an accident tells you something like 'I got hit by a...'. Trust me, I have never heard anyone say 'I hit a truck'. Everybody keeps getting hit... only god knows who's been hitting them.
5. When my side-view mirror moves because of contact with some external force. Imagine this - you are a fucking awesome driver who uses all the bloody mirrors available. You are driving to some place alone and suddenly, a cycle wala brushes past the mirror of the non-driver side and the whole angle gets screwed. Now, you cant reach the mirror to adjust it... and you cant drive without it. So disgusting I must say.
6. When you are getting some work done by someone and on asking him/her the cost, the person says 'jo aapko theek lage, utne de do'. Now, there's a situation to be handled. You don't know what is the fair price and you don't want to end up overpaying either. To add, the person is looping the statement and the call is entirely yours.
7. When you were super drunk the previous night, are burping of some food in the morning, and can't make out what exactly did you eat. Haha. I know this one is terrifically weird. But I have had that feeling at times... and have often failed in the what-I-ate-last-night-that's-burping-now test.
So, how justified am I to get irritated by these? Do you relate to my despair?
Liked the post? You might also like Annoying Me, Easily (similar post).
o
I did an analysis of the petty things that turn me into a freak. I am wondering if it is ok for me to be pissed at the following:
1. When some unknown person calls and says 'aap kaun bol rahe hai'. Man... Even writing about this is making me angry. Why should I tell him/her 'mai kaun bol raha hoo'? You called, you tell me aap kaun ho... mai kyo bolu? bhaad mei jao!
2. When I have to go back to check whether I locked the car... though I know I would have done it subconsciously in the first go. But, it's so irritating to go back... and always find it locked. This is such a dilemma that I can't even risk not going back thinking the car must be locked.
3. When people say random shitty lines and make them sound like universal statements of truth by adding 'it's all about'. For example: Life is all about caring. Cricket is all about angles. Love is all about respecting... bullshit bullshit bullshit
4. When someone who's met with an accident tells you something like 'I got hit by a...'. Trust me, I have never heard anyone say 'I hit a truck'. Everybody keeps getting hit... only god knows who's been hitting them.
5. When my side-view mirror moves because of contact with some external force. Imagine this - you are a fucking awesome driver who uses all the bloody mirrors available. You are driving to some place alone and suddenly, a cycle wala brushes past the mirror of the non-driver side and the whole angle gets screwed. Now, you cant reach the mirror to adjust it... and you cant drive without it. So disgusting I must say.
6. When you are getting some work done by someone and on asking him/her the cost, the person says 'jo aapko theek lage, utne de do'. Now, there's a situation to be handled. You don't know what is the fair price and you don't want to end up overpaying either. To add, the person is looping the statement and the call is entirely yours.
7. When you were super drunk the previous night, are burping of some food in the morning, and can't make out what exactly did you eat. Haha. I know this one is terrifically weird. But I have had that feeling at times... and have often failed in the what-I-ate-last-night-that's-burping-now test.
So, how justified am I to get irritated by these? Do you relate to my despair?
Liked the post? You might also like Annoying Me, Easily (similar post).
22 January, 2010
Zehereela Chumban
Cokeela and Narcotesh were girlfriend boyfriend. Haha. That sounds very funny. But you know what I mean. Nevertheless, their story is not funny.
I take you back to 1998. The two met in college and felt for... oops, I'm sorry... the two met and fell for each other. Those were the days of love, flowers, gifts, CDs—very beautiful, just like the initial days always are. There was so much love between them. Skipping classes and taking them at movie halls was quite usual.
Like any other couple, they had their share of quarrel and banter. But, overall, things were pretty cool... of course, until one day.
That day, Narcotesh was caught smoking weed by the narcotics department of police. They took him into interrogation to find out where he'd got it from. Narcotesh, although revealed the source, was beaten black and blue. That was supposedly his penalty for the weed deed. The police released him soon after.
The wounds and bruises were heavy. Narcotesh got rushed in to a local clinic by his friend Charsam... who also informed Cokeela of the incident. Charsam asked her to come to the BB clinic.
An hour later, at the BB clinic, Cokeela saw her love resting in one of the rooms. There were wounds all over his body. Cokeela decided to stay till the evening while Charsam left for home.
She was so sad to see Narcotesh in the state he was... and managed a tear or two in the process. She could feel his pain. She even replicated a Hindi movie stunt so common in the situation—kissed him on the forehead and other bruised parts of his body... wishing him a speedy recovery.
The next moment there was a thud in the room... Cokeela had collapsed. You guys must be thinking it was the agony that she could not bear... or stuff like that... but that's not true.
Next to Narco's bed could be seen the bottle of medicine that had been applied on his bruised skin. This bottle clearly stated: Poisonous; Do not swallow!!!
That, she did! ...accidentally, while kissing him the Hindi movie style.
I take you back to 1998. The two met in college and felt for... oops, I'm sorry... the two met and fell for each other. Those were the days of love, flowers, gifts, CDs—very beautiful, just like the initial days always are. There was so much love between them. Skipping classes and taking them at movie halls was quite usual.
Like any other couple, they had their share of quarrel and banter. But, overall, things were pretty cool... of course, until one day.
That day, Narcotesh was caught smoking weed by the narcotics department of police. They took him into interrogation to find out where he'd got it from. Narcotesh, although revealed the source, was beaten black and blue. That was supposedly his penalty for the weed deed. The police released him soon after.
The wounds and bruises were heavy. Narcotesh got rushed in to a local clinic by his friend Charsam... who also informed Cokeela of the incident. Charsam asked her to come to the BB clinic.
An hour later, at the BB clinic, Cokeela saw her love resting in one of the rooms. There were wounds all over his body. Cokeela decided to stay till the evening while Charsam left for home.
She was so sad to see Narcotesh in the state he was... and managed a tear or two in the process. She could feel his pain. She even replicated a Hindi movie stunt so common in the situation—kissed him on the forehead and other bruised parts of his body... wishing him a speedy recovery.
The next moment there was a thud in the room... Cokeela had collapsed. You guys must be thinking it was the agony that she could not bear... or stuff like that... but that's not true.
Next to Narco's bed could be seen the bottle of medicine that had been applied on his bruised skin. This bottle clearly stated: Poisonous; Do not swallow!!!
That, she did! ...accidentally, while kissing him the Hindi movie style.
15 January, 2010
Jeeru ki Chaal... Bachcha Behaal [A Pakau Film Story]
Jeeru belonged to a poor family. They were so poor that he did not even know his surname. I mean, at that time, locating the next meal was more important than surnames and religions. Most of the family members (mom, dad, 4 sons - Jeeru being the youngest) begged at south Delhi traffic signals/temples and so on.
Jeeru's earliest childhood memories were the most significant ones. They take him to the time he was offered a 'Melody' toffee by a couple in a big car. Jeeru noticed the couple even had the 'Eclairs' toffees. He asked them for Eclairs instead of the Melody... only to be shunned away! 'Beggars can't be choosers', is what the guy behind the wheel said to him while rolling up the window in disgust. This hurt Jeeru big time. He ran away from his family in search of a new life. The beggars' population was all set to lose count by 1.
Jeeru quit begging and started selling mundane items. He worked very hard. Balloons, toys, incenses, gajraas, hair clips etc were some of his saleables. Being the intelligent guy he was, jumping jobs soon became a usual activity for him.
Interestingly, by jumping one job to another, Jeeru started gaining momentum in life. He was kind-of on track. He worked hard during the day... and at night cursed the rich in his thoughts. Jeeru claimed that the rich people lacked compassion... and were undeserving b******s!
With some years of work experience in bag, Jeeru joined a big hospital as an assistant nurse (ward boy). The training was basic and Jeeru did well in clearing the test. The salary from the job was good enough for Jeeru to maintain a savings bank account... which he planned to disperse at the time of marriage!
Things were going well and within six months of joining, Jeeru had been shifted to the labor room. His job was to take care of all the equipment that was used in meeting deliverables.... He was enjoying it...
A point to note here is that a ritual had become a part of Jeeru's life—regardless of whatever, Jeeru always used to curse the big-money guys who he used to encounter in the hospital... He used to think of them at night and wonder how artificial they were...
0
It was during the seventh month of the employment at the hospital that Jeeru reunited with his family. One of his brothers had tracked him through some desi word-of-mouth networking. Jeeru was kind of happy to meet them. Apparently, they had opened a pakora shop... and it was the only source of their livelihood. Interestingly, they had a special 'jeera' pakora in memories of their absconding family member.
The marital status of 2 of the brothers was same as Jeeru's; however, the eldest one had gotten married a year before and his wife, Laaji, was expecting.
Jeeru's dad saw the opportunity and asked him for a favor... "son, what if we get Laaji's labor done in your hospital?" Jeeru felt like running away the second time; however, he declined the idea. He later spoke to some senior doctors and they agreed for it—BUT only on the condition that Laaji will stay in one of the cheaper ward rooms post the operation!
On the day of the delivery, there were 3 other deliveries scheduled in that time frame. Jeeru had made sure all equipment was in place. Waiting outside the room, something weird had started cooking in his mind.
"What if I exchange Laaji's kid with the rich man's next door? We will get a fair kid in the family... Laaji will accept whatever is handed to her... The rich family in the next room will learn a lesson. How will they react when they can't choose to have a child of their own color?... beggars cant be choosers!"
Leveraging the power of his association with the hospital, he did! That day, a black baby got delivered to a white family... they were happy.
On this side, Jeeru's brother was sad. Initially, Jeeru thought his brother was doubting his wife for producing a white baby... but the brother soon revealed that his baby had born with a defect... the baby, although extremely fair, was deaf...
Jeeru now hates the rich more than before... while I hope he realizes 'hatred' is never the solution.
28 December, 2009
My First Invention: The F-Cutter
I always wanted to invent something. The idea was to give something back to life.
I do have something now. Let me assure you this is the first of my 'n' number of inventions I have planned to detonate. I have the blueprint ready. I will now explain my first invention, the 'F-Cutter.'
Take a look at the image. This is the F-Cutter... a mini stadium/chamber kind of structure... call it what you like. The F-Cutter is a fat-cutting mechanism.
There are some other items in the image that I should tell you about. Just in case a person is killed... there are blood drainage facilities at all sections of the chamber. Moreover, body disposal facilities are also available (for people of all religions).
Last, I have some free space... this will be used for advertising once I get some sponsors. I hope my invention (or its variant) gets translated into reality to benefit people.
I do have something now. Let me assure you this is the first of my 'n' number of inventions I have planned to detonate. I have the blueprint ready. I will now explain my first invention, the 'F-Cutter.'
Take a look at the image. This is the F-Cutter... a mini stadium/chamber kind of structure... call it what you like. The F-Cutter is a fat-cutting mechanism. This is how it works:
A person (fatso in the image) enters the F-Cutter, and doors are closed. The next moment, the killer spikes start moving toward the fatso.
The fatso, to protect himself/herself from the spikes, has to start running. The path, as seen here, is circular. This means that the fatso HAS TO keep running until the ends stop. These are deadly spikes... so you can't possibly fool around with them. The only option is to run.
Every day, a person could use the F-Cutter for jogging/running... by simply entering the time duration (along with the desired speed for the spikes) in the Digital Data Feeder... all at the risk of life, of course...
This invention is ONLY for those who CAN exercise but DON'T, just out of laze.
The fatso, to protect himself/herself from the spikes, has to start running. The path, as seen here, is circular. This means that the fatso HAS TO keep running until the ends stop. These are deadly spikes... so you can't possibly fool around with them. The only option is to run.
Every day, a person could use the F-Cutter for jogging/running... by simply entering the time duration (along with the desired speed for the spikes) in the Digital Data Feeder... all at the risk of life, of course...
This invention is ONLY for those who CAN exercise but DON'T, just out of laze.
There are some other items in the image that I should tell you about. Just in case a person is killed... there are blood drainage facilities at all sections of the chamber. Moreover, body disposal facilities are also available (for people of all religions).
Last, I have some free space... this will be used for advertising once I get some sponsors. I hope my invention (or its variant) gets translated into reality to benefit people.
02 December, 2009
Spot the Assholes
Hey! Long time.
Look, we all agree there are assholes on our roads. They are roaming around freely... messing around with rules, our minds, and everything else...
I thought I'd do this post to spot some assholes.
In order to do this, I will take use of my hand-drawn images on paint. My observations:
Type 1 (the other-way): If it's a single road shared by both directions, these assholes prevail. When they find their lane is not moving, they take it to the other lane (meant for the opposite trafic). Now, these assholes don't realize that they block the opposite traffic... which further blocks the traffic in their original lane... which eventually blocks the whole fucking road. The main culprits in this category are the assholes who initiate the movement to the other lane... only to be followed by other like-minded assholes. Here's a pictorial representation of what I mean. Spot the assholes - They are in red.
Type 2 (the contradiction in requirement and reality): If you were to turn left at the next turn, which lane would you be driving in? Left-most? Even center at times? But someone care to tell me what the fuck would you be doing in the right-most lane in the same situation. All you'd do is halt all the traffic that needs to go right/straight—look at others as if they have sinned by coming in your way—and go through them to your destined turn. Spot the asshole - He is in blue.
Type 3 (the stop-everything warriors): You do not care more for anything other than that slight dent or scratch given to you by a fellow commuter. Yes, you have to stop the car right there, in the middle of the traffic, and catch hold of the guy you could beat up for that dent. What do you end up doing? You block the whole fucking lane... and if it's a narrow road, you block the whole of it. Come on. Someone out there could be in real hurry... yeah, do you even care? In green.
Type 4 (the UNscrupulous): Okay, the signal has turned red. It does not make any difference to you, as usual. However, for once,you decide to be the follower this time. Be the man. Be the principled guy. What do you do, of course you stop. But where? Meters ahead of the zebra line. Just look at yourself, you have almost cross the road... why bothering to stop now? Just go on man. Spot the assholes - in this weird color... magenta or something.
Type 5 (the protruders): Well, they think they're doing the biggest favor to you by letting you pass. These guys are mainly found on turns... waiting to join into the main traffic. What do they do? They try to get their vehicles into the action inch by inch. Slowly, you realize they are so much on the road that you ought to stop and let them be a part of the warfare. Spot the assholes - red.
Type 6 (the slow motion): Ah! These guys promote road rage the most. They have to be at their slowest in the fastest lane. They often successfully manage to keep the rest of the traffic at pace with them. Usually, old uncle aunties are discovered in such vehicles... and at times you do apologize to yourself for abusing unknowingly... but then there are others too who do this. These assholes often end up getting killer stares by people who manage to scrape through. I say this - at least give way... or drive on the left or some place else... Yellow please.
Type 7 (the double-slow motion): Oh I hate this one. Another category of road-rage promoters. Imagine two guys in front of you... covering the whole passage... and driving slow... and on top of it - at EXACT same speed. Usually, in the given situation, you dont know which of the two drivers to curse. Both are equal assholes. Pink.
Look, we all agree there are assholes on our roads. They are roaming around freely... messing around with rules, our minds, and everything else...
I thought I'd do this post to spot some assholes.
In order to do this, I will take use of my hand-drawn images on paint. My observations:
Type 1 (the other-way): If it's a single road shared by both directions, these assholes prevail. When they find their lane is not moving, they take it to the other lane (meant for the opposite trafic). Now, these assholes don't realize that they block the opposite traffic... which further blocks the traffic in their original lane... which eventually blocks the whole fucking road. The main culprits in this category are the assholes who initiate the movement to the other lane... only to be followed by other like-minded assholes. Here's a pictorial representation of what I mean. Spot the assholes - They are in red.
Type 2 (the contradiction in requirement and reality): If you were to turn left at the next turn, which lane would you be driving in? Left-most? Even center at times? But someone care to tell me what the fuck would you be doing in the right-most lane in the same situation. All you'd do is halt all the traffic that needs to go right/straight—look at others as if they have sinned by coming in your way—and go through them to your destined turn. Spot the asshole - He is in blue.
Type 3 (the stop-everything warriors): You do not care more for anything other than that slight dent or scratch given to you by a fellow commuter. Yes, you have to stop the car right there, in the middle of the traffic, and catch hold of the guy you could beat up for that dent. What do you end up doing? You block the whole fucking lane... and if it's a narrow road, you block the whole of it. Come on. Someone out there could be in real hurry... yeah, do you even care? In green.
Type 4 (the UNscrupulous): Okay, the signal has turned red. It does not make any difference to you, as usual. However, for once,you decide to be the follower this time. Be the man. Be the principled guy. What do you do, of course you stop. But where? Meters ahead of the zebra line. Just look at yourself, you have almost cross the road... why bothering to stop now? Just go on man. Spot the assholes - in this weird color... magenta or something.
Type 5 (the protruders): Well, they think they're doing the biggest favor to you by letting you pass. These guys are mainly found on turns... waiting to join into the main traffic. What do they do? They try to get their vehicles into the action inch by inch. Slowly, you realize they are so much on the road that you ought to stop and let them be a part of the warfare. Spot the assholes - red.
Type 6 (the slow motion): Ah! These guys promote road rage the most. They have to be at their slowest in the fastest lane. They often successfully manage to keep the rest of the traffic at pace with them. Usually, old uncle aunties are discovered in such vehicles... and at times you do apologize to yourself for abusing unknowingly... but then there are others too who do this. These assholes often end up getting killer stares by people who manage to scrape through. I say this - at least give way... or drive on the left or some place else... Yellow please.
Type 7 (the double-slow motion): Oh I hate this one. Another category of road-rage promoters. Imagine two guys in front of you... covering the whole passage... and driving slow... and on top of it - at EXACT same speed. Usually, in the given situation, you dont know which of the two drivers to curse. Both are equal assholes. Pink.
.... Lastly, let me tell you about the biggest category of assholes... and these are us. Coz either we tolerate other assholes or become like them. That's it. We don't do anything to correct the situation.
If all of us stick to what's right and not follow other assholes... the other assholes will soon start following us.
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