How is it that you only find things at the last place you looked for them?

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

I Hate Sticks Especially When They Are in Your Backside


Face off had a dialogue where this woman goes "Sir, how was the operation?"
Johny boy Travolta is like "What operation?"
Super clever but ugly lady retorts "The one that took out the stick up your ass!"
Hehehehehehehe... everyone had a good laugh and went back home believing all the trash they dished out in the brilliant piece of art that helped them get away with a kind of story line for the kind of movies that makes Mithun and Rajnikanth what they are today.
I am never sure of what I say when sentence construction is long and complex like the previous one. But that is what helps me get away with all the trash I dish out too!
Everyone needs to learn the adroit way of releasing stick in arse and letting it fly free just like the birds so it hits a dumb freak standing to get back his boomerang.
Two purposes solved... you refrain from being the waiting for boomerang loser and make the stuck up loser waiting pay for just being! *Die mother f#$%!*$ die*
I must warn you all at this point of time that sleep deprivation is a major cause of Verbal Dairrhea for many.
3 rules for a happy and prosperous life
1.) Scratch your crotch when YOU want to
2.) Fart when there are only two people in the elevator... you and person X. Make the most disgusting face you can get yourself to make at that person. The disgust on your face is directly proportional to the happiness within for making person X wonder.
3.) Write a blog which 3 people read and make them actually fall for the rules that you say you live by.

Thank you. Good night and God bless!


I think everyone should be Japanese and have names like Kenyo, or Kinjitsushi. Think about it. Immediately people will think of you to be the son of a slain samurai on a mission to avenge his father's death with his katana, and bad breath. Pull your eyelids till you get this slinky chinky look, and talk like there's a rat in your throat screaming out in pain because it can see your stomach where only a few minutes earlier boiled frog legs made their way. You didn't like the way they tasted, but Kawasaki, your sensei, told you that in the year of the snake the legs of a boiled frog saved the world from the coming of the evil Lord Chowmeintsu who terrorised people with faulty consumer durables like Walkmans that used 4 (that's right, FOUR) AA batteries!

And then you feel like the whole world is working against you. But that just maybe because you're wearing your briefs backwards. Does it hurt? The elastic pressing against your privates as if a rabid dog were sinking his teeth into your crotch? Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't. The reason you feel like a complete dweeb is that you are one. Think about it. Remember that girl you tried to kiss in the bar when you were drunk? Well guess what, she was a he. And you bit his nose. Which is why you woke up the next morning in the hospital with three broken ribs, a shattered pelvis and no money. Hah! And you thought you had a car accident while she was... um... bowling down under.

I think you should sit in a corner now and think. And while you're at it, you might want to turn around those Jockeys.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Vote For Thermal (waterproof) Underwear


What do you do if you are the biggest scaredy poo in the whole wide world huh?

Just saw the most awesome pantwetter scary video, one of the many sidey forwards you get.
And now I am figuring out ways to find a way to break it to July... oops Jun ( making jokes is hard for some people, okay!) how I am going to spend the night on his floor, you see he us not the most chivalrous guy around what with the wife beating tendencies he displays.

On a more philosophical note, dancing isn't easy friends. That is why all you people must visit the site , watch the dance lessons he dishes out, and reduce the already small number of visitors to our joint blog. *Sweet*

Talking about underwears, now these are something which come in all shapes and sizes and if you ask me they can be multi purpose as well. How, now that is something I leave to you imagination as I lack that skill, Jun more than makes up for it. He is a walking retard recovering from drug addiction.

Why this obsession with sexy female/male (last thing we want to be called is sexist!) lingerie you might ask, THEN READ THE BLOG ADDRESS YOU FREAKING DUMBASS!

Okay now that I have gathered my calm demeanor (I am not sure how you can do that but that is besides the point), me and Jun (awwe! isn't that a sweet name, my eyes are more than moist already) have these commonalities ranging from super to the power of infinity (stop orgasming Dexter wannabe!) stupidity, obsession with 3 letter words( one has had too much of it, so much so that he/she((we are still on concluding about that)) is hooked, what a wannabe and the other with the lack of it!) and it makes us both laugh till a lil pee comes out each time we talk about such things. Ya, we are of the juveniles and we are happy!


What happens when a chemical reaction caused by human error and a monkey dressed in a lab coat pretending to be all smart and everything, infects the positively fickle and desperately hungry young mind of a 21 year old? You get Sana. Now you may get confused figuring out a connection between a monkey in a lab coat and a monkey with fat abs who eats oats, but don't. Just ask her. Once she finishes prancing up and down scratching the insides of her underarms making noises reminiscent of Brain from Pinky and the Brain, she will inform you that we are all descendants of the apes and some people are just more ape-y than others. No, she's not talking about AP, which as MICAns are aware, is an orange juice concentration involving ad agencies, lard and words like insight which means absolutely nothing if you do some insightful thinking.

So where were we? Ah yes, lard. It's nice. She has a lot of it. You'd be forgiven if you thought that it was jelly because it too jiggles. And then chicks na, they say they don't have inhibitions, but they wear condoms all the time. You just won't get it if you think too much. Neither Sana, nor Jun think. At all. Henceforth Jun shall refer to himself in third person. Jun is a handsome and sexy guy. He uses a Nokia cellphone. It has buttons and everything, like his belly. Which is a little flabby. Like lard.

Here is why lectures suck ass. Because they involve academics. And studies. And professors who think couldn't lip sync to Ashley Simpson if they're lips were connected to electronically controlled wires hooked up to a remote control with alphabets on it so you just press the letters and tiny electric shocks go to the wearers lips and he shrieks in pain first and then says lines like "tu kutta, tera baap kutta aur teri maa ki aankh".

Five pointers for a healthy sax life:
1. Brush your teeth regularly.
2. Blow. Balloons.
3. Don't use it if someone else put his mouth to it first.
4. If you blow too hard, somebody or the other is bound to complain.
5. Playing in a group is always more fun.

Monday, February 20, 2006

So When You Are Really Wasted


Once upon a time, far away, at band aid camp I learnt the eternal truth ... because it was out there.(*heavy metal strains*)

Boys will be boys and girls will have sex change operations!
Why do I say so?
I dont know, you tell me.
You know I also learnt life's most impotent truths. (Ya, impotent is a typo, or that's what you think *evil fiendish grin* )
The truths:
You will get fat if you eat a lot.
Your underwear will smell after 3 days of being your most faithful companion.
Boys don't talk to you if you don't brush your teeth daily.

God only knows how the above text has changed my life for the better, I eat better, stay healthy and more importantly I feel good. I love you Mom. And Oprah.

If wishes were horses I swear I would have taught you to fall from them.
You see it is an art to fall from a horse 24 and a half times. That's what I learnt when I took up horseriding back in 1870. Though I still pass it off as an activity I am into!

And writing this is as easy as it comes ... just like cute French, non gay boys.
I tell you too much pressure, afterall between the two of us we are shaping the world's opinion about nuclear weapons and its effect on the coming generations (ya right!).
So like where were we. Horsing around, I remember. Don't wish I say, just beat the crap out of the one who has what you want. Or better still whine till the other party relents. The second option has worked for me to an extent that I have set new standards in the area of my specialisation.
Phew! Now I shall go and do something worthwhile like count the zits on Arjun's face while you go get a life.



Have you ever wondered what a dreadful waste of time licking jam from the inside of your big toe nail is? Also, has it ever struck you that maybe you sticking a wet finger into an electicity socket is not exactly the right way to get a spiky hairdo? If these questions trouble you, don't let them. There are other precious wastes of your time waiting to be... er... wasted.

Like bouncing your head to some song on your mind, it takes little effort to shake your leg too. Here's an extremely cool thing to do - dance (or as the French would say - omlette du framage. Okay, they wouldn't say that, but doesn't it sound... cool?) Why? Because you can't sing jackass. Neither can you play any instrument. And everything else that you do makes you look like a putz. Get a grip of yourself, man. And of your toilet paper.

Eight easy steps to dance, and be cool:
1. First of all, get off your lazy arse and get onto the dance floor. Don't be shy. It's not a woman fellating for the first time (it won't bite). So move doofus, and get on the goddamn floor.

2. Now that you're there, and probably by yourself (heck, if you weren't alone you wouldn't be reading this gibberish would you... stupid virgin) find someone. This is going to be tough because you're wearing checks the size of Scotland and you've spilt your virgin pina colada on your trousers. But this is essential; finding someone. It is irrelevant if someone is already with someone. You're used to piling on as it is.

3. Hopefully, you are past step 2. Assuming you are with a person of the opposite sex (woah, I think I just complimented you) what you need to do is shake.

4. Shake anything. Just don't laugh too much. She's (you're obviously a guy) not a stand-up comedienne, and "Applause" is not pasted on her forehead in size 76 font Times New Roman.

5. Unless your butt is curved like the spinal cord of 86 year old Raju Chachha who last stood straight pre-indpendence when the days were good and old just like Demi Moore's breasts, don't jiggle too much. You'll end up looking like someone wedgied you with a hungry squirrel.

6. Talk as little as possible. No one wants to hear what you want to say. If you must talk, say something suave like "My cravat was made in Switzerland. I skiied there on my resort last winter with Angelina Jolie. She's nice." Actually, don't say that. Say "What?! You haven't heard of the Screwdriver?" and then proceed to spin around and round slowly reducing your height as it you were being screwed.

7. Don't look too serious either. She'll think you're a rapist. Did I mention something about checks?

8. Under no circumstances can your fly be open.

There children. Now dance. Or wait till we update this damn thing again!

Because The World Needs More Rubbish Literature

It is that time of the year again when Sana and Arjun do the deed. By deed they do not imply any sexual or real estate things. What they mean, is just plain ... garbage. You are priviliged to not know them, and useless if you do not understand that everything that they say makes all the sense in the world, and no sense at all, at the same time. Confused? So are they.

These are the conversations of madness.