Welcome... But Clean Up After You Leave.

Sana

What happens when you cross dress a unibrowed monkey?
You get a jack ass staring at his screen with his gob opened expecting answers to inane questions. *Dr Spite Mouth strikes again*

This post is not dedicated to such jack behinds but to the month Jun. (The resemblance to a certain name is purely intentional, father, for once, let it be!)

Today I shall speak with great affection (yes, displaying gay emotions comes naturally to me, whoopsy daisies!) about coming.*shameless juvenile grin*

So where were we, yes, coming and specifically coming in Jun.

Firstly, it is very important to use protection (against making sense maybe!). By the way, referring to an older post, automatically, one’s personal genitals’ (as opposed to one’s public genitals?!) get protected as protection, ladies and gents, is directly proportional to one’s ugliness. I mean what fun is it squashing ‘hairy toad onion breath’s’ nads in a local train, sick boy? *Ouch*

The following, now, are useless rules that have been tried and tested by our very own name sake. These allow you to come in the holy month of Jun (or July if you are that desperate!)
1.) It is in coming that you go, just like it is in giving that you realize the other person didn’t need it in the first place, being full of hot air himself (or herself as your sexual orientation may be)
2.) It is imperative to have an affinity for birds like swallows. Holds you in good stead.
3.) You shouldn’t brush that often, you might get tired.
4.) Be persistent. Try, try until you succeed. (I mean, brilliant pun, Watson, brilliant)
5.) If you still need a rule, don’t bother. You are the crossdressed unibrowed monkey, who should just be happy for being acknowledged on a famous (hahahaha) blog! *rude rude rude*

So that is an end to yet another childish attempt at being funny. Thanks for being patient (nota bene: shameless PR attempts)

See you around. ‘Come’ back for more!

Jun

Friends, Romans, people who're too bored with office work and feel the need to browse the internet aimlessly. Lend me your bandwidth.

Today we will observe how simple replies to commonly made statements and remarks can make you feel good about yourself, and give you a sense of satisfaction. "How now, brown cow?" you may be tempted to ask. There's a fitting reply to that as well.

1. Statement: "Why am I not surprised?"
Reply: Well maybe you just don't get surprised much. Maybe you were born a guy when the gynaec was sure you'd be a girl. Heck, what a shocker it was when the doc handed you to your mum and she saw your little thingy. Things haven't changed much since then.

2. Statement: "It's not you, it's me."
Reply: F#@*&^% Idiot! You should've told me earlier na. Then I wouldn't have to hide the fact that camels in the Sahara deserts haven't seen a hump like my new secretary.

3. Statement:

"How now, brown cow?"
Reply: What then, black hen? Who there, white hare? Why do a blind emu?

4. Statement: "You're fired."
Reply: No, I'm not.
"Umm... err... Yes, you are."
No, I'm not.
"You see, we're downsizing and everything. And..."
No you're not.
"Yes, we are."
No, you're not.
"But you're fired."
No, I'm not.
"Look, I don't know how to explain this better..."
Don't.
"No, you're not getting (gatting) it."
Yes, I am.
"That's good then, you're fired."
No... I'm not.
*repeat from start till security is called*

5. Statement: "Will I live, doctor?"
Reply: Yes, yes. Of course you will. You'll live till you're ninety, easily. *patient heaves a sigh of relif*
"Haha! That's a relief."
Haha, I was just kidding! You're dead by Thursday. Ask the secretary to show you the way out, and oh!, have a nice day!

Putting a pen in your eye could make you blind. Like sex. So if you intend on having sex, make sure there aren't any pens in your eyes.

The daughter and I have pledged to donate our toe nails to the needy, after we die. We've also pledged to write more often, but that's another entry. Like she said, "Thank you, 'come' again."