Adventures of Talking Ted and Walking Jay

Acknowledgement

This is shameless plagiarism.

I brought home a Talking Teddy after watching Mark Wahlberg’s funny buddy in the cinematic version of a wild thought. All you have to do is pray one night and order it from Flipkart.com in the morning. You can own your own Teddy here.

Prologue

I am not sure how many of you would understand it, but living with a stuffed toy is not half as bad as it sounds. A couple of not-so-great things may happen though – My parents wonder what went wrong in the years they were to nurture me to become a fine human being. The beautiful girl, I met a few months back may not understand either. To be known as the girl of the 40 yrs old man with a Teddy in his closet, may not be the crown she always desired. The melodramatic turmoil that I went through to own my Teddy has also made my relatives stay away (Not entirely a bad thing though..)

Teddy was supposed to be the most loving inanimate thing man has ever made. Then, how did it blossom to be such a bad omen? If I had the time machine, I would go back and undo some of the things that led to such a bad reputation.

Adventures of Talking Ted and Walking Jay: The Pinch Miracle in boardroom

Ted is small and cute to look at. He has been living with me for an year now. He spends most of his time watching TV, some porn, drinking beer and making fun of neighbors.

When Ted first came home, I welcomed him with a smile and generous hospitality. A dry wash and new cloths would be nice I thought. I took Ted to the nearby Reliance Mart Store. Ted whistled when a foxy lady passed by. Soon, a crowd seething with anger surrounded us. The mob threatened to cut my balls and shove my Teddy up my Posterior. I stared at my posterior first and then at God above. “This is not sweet of you !!” – I whispered for only HIS ears. To placate the crowd - I slapped Ted. He brought out a scene of a small kid weeping off the shame, to life. This was enough to melt the victim's heart. Sheela (yeah! that was her name) asked me to stop the brutality and hugged the Teddy tight. I also paid for her groceries at Ted's request.

This was no end to the story as I have no paucity of dumb acts. One such high-point was when I stuffed him in my bag and took him to my office.

“You keep me hidden in that bag is embarrassing enough; at least, have the graciousness to not make me lie there with your laptop. A few magazines would be nice for comfy. You know the ones I saw in the magazine store. It has that bomb of a centerfold…with those huge jugs.. and pink colored…ummm” That adhesive tape drowned his whining for the rest of the drive, but his spirit stayed afloat.

Later, in the day we had a sales review. This was chaired by my Boss, fondly known as Goldmine The Croc. Goldmine is a bald man with pointy hair on the sides. He is a sweet person when he is fast asleep otherwise....well (chuck it, else, you will call me a whining b***h). In the review meet, whenever Goldmine asked me a Question too silly to Answer, Ted giggled in the meeting room. Everyone stared at Fat Joe. Fat Joe is considered the architect of all phenomenon without explanation in and around my office - be it the fart in the crowded lift or lewd messages sent to Goldmine’s wife from an office number.

“Why didn’t you achieve your sales target?” – Goldmine The Croc would ask and his fist would come crashing on the table like a war hammer. While everyone would stare at me for an Answer, I would first ponder whether its Century Ply or the Fevicol which makes the table so tough. Not able to comprehend whether the Question is a rhetorical one or not, my measured response after a minute would be to shrug and ignore. Every month we replay the act like puppets. I guess it’s sort of a ritual now between The Walking Jay and Goldmine The Croc.

Probably, these subtleties of human nature are beyond a Teddy’s understanding. That is why an offended Ted, pinched Goldmine’s rear on that Holy Day. (I am sure Ted’s followers after 50 years from now, would celebrate this day as “Pinchaya-Dasami”). Goldmine screamed so loud that, three glasses in the adjacent building cracked. Panic stricken junta called in the Anti-Terrorist Unit to investigate. A spicy news in TIMES NOW followed. But that’s a tale for some other post. Meanwhile, the Pinch miracle claimed its fruit. Fat Joe was sacrificed at the altar to please the Gods of the boardroom.

Not able to control my anger that evening, I shoved Ted into the cupboard. I had that mixed feeling of guilt and righteousness that Harbhajan Singh would have had when he slapped Shreesanth. It was a necessary evil and someone had to do. Ted needed the punishment. However, the supper-less night in the dark dungeons of the Cupboard and a fervent love making with the resident cockroaches couldn't break his defiance.

Next morning, after releasing Ted from his prison, I asked – “Why couldn’t you let Goldmine's comment pass without a reaction?”

“Crimes of annoyance shouldn't go unpunished. If they do, it begets a society full of Paris Hiltons, Digvijay Singhs and Rakhi Sawant." After a pause, Ted continued, "I was born in Blood. I am not myself unless I have taken the life of the ones who fit my code of vengeance. You are in with luck that your annoying Boss did fit. If only you would have called me Dexter instead of Ted – my purpose in life would have been complete.”

“Stop Watching TV at home.. and you are no glorified serial killer!!! You have no life, you are just a talking stuffed Toy!!!”

I stared at his Furry Face with the round nose; without knowing the emotions, my angry retort would elicit in the Teddy.  

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JAY 2:49 AM  No comment

Lady Gaga Gossip: An Indian Lover reveals all

Excerpts from the June 2014 edition of Cosmopolitan 

Five years back it was dark, when

I had experienced the sparkle of the pink. 

I do remember, I did wink; 

only now, I realize - that's when I had started to sink.

It was a regular office meeting, my colleagues were giggling and passing a piece of paper while I was presenting. Though, I was at a vantage point in the room, I could only figure out that its some kinda news clip. As soon as the meeting was over, I let my curiosity go wild.I could hear myself say - this is my Jason Bourne moment. Tactfully, I had put my hand on the table while I was engaged in the conversation with my boss.I leaned towards him, as if I wanted to listen to him intently. Meanwhile, I dragged my hand on the table till it rested on the piece of paper.  I slowly slid that piece of paper in my pocket while I politely said bye to my Boss.

I rushed to the loo and took that piece of paper out. It was a news clip with a semi nude pic of my wife. There was something written in bold, "The  debate resurfaces - Lady Gaga has a wee wee!! Papparazzzzzi"
**Snap**

When Harry met Sally

Back in the beginning of 2009, I had just moved to Singapore, heading logistics division of a Media and Event Management company. A new kid on the block called Lady Gaga was on her Asia Tour. It was called The Fame Ball Tour. It was my luck, as they got stuck, and I had to dig all of them out of a sticky situation. Lady Gaga had thanked me by shaking hands and saying, "Poker Face".

**Snap**

Later, during the dinner she told me - how much she likes my science Mombo Jumbo. I flashed a freaky smile and said nothing. I knew deep inside I had blushed... and that's how the citadel was crushed. She kept all our email and text messages a secret, till she realized that having an Indian doting husband is cool. Whereas, I thought when Leonard can have Penny .. well why can't I? (learning: too much of soaps make you dull and you go big bang! cough! **). A delayed Monsters Ball tour late in 2010 meant, I had the opportunity to spend some more time with her. The air was abuzz with stories whether Lady Gaga was a hermaphrodite or not. I advised her the way out.

Generosity and charity to the third world was a PR ploy. A poor hungry brownie hanging by the side of a super Hot White Chick was cool. It could have been a kid for Angelina or Madonna and Jay for Gaga. I was blind to all. I used to think, helping her locate India in the world map, was cute. It used to give me pleasure teaching her the difference between the Red Indians and the Brown Indians. She was the reason I hooked onto twitter. I introduced her to Indian Food and Bollywood. wow!
       Once, my college juniors approached me for a performance in our annual College fest "Chaos".It fed my ego. Once disowned son was being approached by its Alma mater. Later, when it was realized that it would be very inappropriate to have a very skimpily clad celeb to dance in the land of Gandhi, the show was scrapped. Choices in my life were being decided by national political vendetta.

Photoshop had rescued me, when I had to show her pics to my parents. I told my mom, Ga - Ga (sing - sing) is an Indian pet name that I bestowed on her. I didn't realize the collective fraud that I was conspiring - was actually a  joke on me.
**Snap**

Since then, a lot of piss has gone down the drain. I am not justifying her faith on me. Earlier, every sight of hers used to fill me with Joy. Now, I am not that amused with all her pics, spread all over walls at home.I don't get up in the night to pee for her larger than life pic on the wall scares me. 

Back then, whatever she said was music to ears. I easily traveled the arduous path of Rock to POP. Now, at times she comes up with strange conversations. I could only guess that, it must be cool to the outside world but I don't really help much to propel the conversation for long. One day said that she was to attend the stage with Madonna at an awards night, and whether smooching a women on stage beyond her menopause would still be Sexy or not? I looked at her with startled eyes. I shouted at her, "Just the other day I had the opportunity to make out with my secretary and I didn't, sighting her moral obligation. Goodness gracious me! y didn't I do that?" She said, "yeah! right!". Things are not the same. It's different.

I am bound by contract with Cosmopolitan, from spilling more beans here. Please, Buy COSMOPOLITAN June 2014 to read more.

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JAY 10:29 AM  No comment

Pimpin in Park Street

Every little celebration in Kolkata culminates in Park Street (..the other place would be Tangra, china Town given that your not a rich kid). Park Street also underlines the Liberal Society that Kolkata harbors. Just the other day we were having dinner at Peter Cat when we witnessed two men, sitting besides us, poking at each others' mouth with their tongue. I looked at Naughty Nero and smiled. Naughty Nero said, “Your intense glare is now making me nervous; please, look away.”
Though it’s a bit of an unfair illustration, but not entirely inaccurate. If you call Kolkata the gay capital of India – your dart is not falling far off. Startling scenes (..by Shiv Sena standards) would paint the landscape of Park street. So, you can see free flowing alcohol but hardly any drunken brawls, transvestites hitting the discs at night but hardly being treated as social outcasts and plunging necklines but hardly any stares. (Ummm.. ok the last one is untrue. That would be very unIndian and disrespectful towards women and their right to be stared at.)

Ok... another one before my moral ethos kick in.
If you have landed up in Park Street for food, there is 80 % chance that you will1st try your luck in BarbQ. It serves awesome Tandoori delicacies. That’s what I did following Jay's 1st law of hunger i.e. to find tandoori chicken when hungry. The place was crowded. We were hushed away by the manager with a grin as there was "no room for Bachelors".  As soon as we left dejected, Nature did its balancing act. It had sent a Messiah of bachelors. In laymen's language you can call him THE PIMP. These guys roam around the entire locality like little cock-roaches (lol! what an apt name). A shady character approached us and brushed past us mumbling something like, "kuchh chahiye kya sir". In the moment of confusion, the pimp came closer and said, "Sir! kuchh sewa karoon?". I smiled and said, "What the F!!" “College girl bhi hai!" blurted that slimy old fart. Just before I could nod my head in refusal, Naughty Nero interrupted, "Kitna loge (How much)!!" I distanced myself before any acquaintance could see me getting my hands dirrrty. I waited for Naughty Nero to finish his adventure. He seemed to love every bit of the interaction. He always had said, "He is the only broker who doesn't mind being called a broker." These were the longest 5 minutes of my life. Naughty Nero joined me with a smile of a man who just had his orgasm, leaving the pimp perplexed.
“Why were you unnecessarily bugging that guy?”
Naughty Nero said, "Chill dude! I was just negotiating. That guy was quoting exorbitant rates for the women sitting beside the Metro Station. lol!! Who is gonna shell out hundreds by the hour. I asked him when the fun is only for the 15 - 20 minutes why should I pay for the hour. Docomo ka naam suna hai (Have you heard of Docomo). Brother! ab telecom mein bhi per second billling hai. It seems a classic case of lack of competition." I countered like a sloppy snake woken suddenly. I was surprised and shocked at his argument, which looked stupid at the periphery but really required some thought to beat it hollow.
While I imagined getting calls from unknown numbers pitching for new post paid plan, "Use our girls, pretty ones in all shapes and sizes! Pay a minimum rental and pay by the second"; Naughty Nero signed off by saying, "Boy! Do the new!”

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JAY 1:16 AM  9 comments

BO-MAN: Our Friendly Neighbourhood

Recently, I found this wonderful conversation between two of the most wittiest personalities around. May be this exaggerated appreciation is there, because I am fond of Boman Irani and his acting skills.

Cyrus: That’s also how you met Shiamak Davar

Boman: Shiamak is a wonderful, wonderful guy. He had come to my studio. I was taking pictures of him, trying to entertain him with my jokes to put him at ease because he kept saying he was ugly. He came back the next day and said, R 16;You know Boman, you should be on stage.’ He asked me to audition for a small part in Alyque Padamsee’s play “Roshni”… Alyque initially had rejected my audition. Shiamak insisted that he would not choreograph the show if I was not in it and I did the show, I did one song in it.
Cyrus: No offence to Alyque, the play was…
Boman: Go ahead and offend Alyque. It’s okay.
Cyrus: Yes, the play was really bad. And the only good part about the play was the pimp… you.
Boman: Parsi mothers are always very proud of their children. After the show, my mother asked around, ‘Did you like my son?’ They didn’t know who her son was. So she said, ‘The pimp is my son.’ Someone ask ed her if she wanted a lift, and she said, ‘My son will drop me.’ ‘Who will drop you,’ they asked from the other end of the lobby and she went, ‘My son… the… the pimp will drop me. Don’t bother.’
Cyrus: (laughs)
Boman: You’re making fun of my mom by laughing. But yes, growing up in a Parsi family, I’m used to Parsi moms. Every time the dhobi comes, she would go, ‘Tum idhar tehro. Main kapda nikaal ke aati hoon’ (You wai t here. I will remove the clothes and come).
Cyrus: (laughs)
Boman: You are laughing at my mom again. I’m offended. (mockingly)
Cyrus: Tell me about the classic romance. Your wife used to buy only 100gm of chips from your shop everyday.
Boman: Dumb me, I would not understand why she would buy 100gm everyday when she could buy in bulk. And then, it struck me that maybe…
Cyrus: Her version is that you were the one who gave her 100 gm everyday saying that you were not allowed to give more. But we’ll stick to yours.

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JAY 12:51 AM  No comment

Sea, Sand, Sun and Skin

(Disclaimer: characters and incidents in the following act is purely incidental. Any resemblance to the movie 300 is purely incidental).

These were the few brave men who had defied destiny. They fought against slavery. They fought like there was no tomorrow.They were led by their will to enjoy the fate, they had come here to embrace.

They looked at the sun which was being gobbled by darkness. The breeze was from the west .... prolly originated in the angst of Persia. Even the sea was hitting the shores with passion and vigour. Apocalypse now. However, only thing etched in the minds of these few men up against all odds, was FREEDOM.

The King, looked at the murky sky and remembered the red walls, which had imprisoned him and almost decapitated him for two years. Then, he turned to face the fellow soldiers, who had vowed to die with him and cried with LORD'S own stereo:

"SPARTANS !!!!!! tonite.........we die in our undies"

Soon..... the warriors JAY, HAT, FUGGA, CANTO, MAXI, BOCHO, FOOZIE and Junglee NATO threw their naked bodies, wrapped only in underwears; to the sea and swam and dived and somersaulted and played and laughed and sun burnt themselves till FUGGA said, "mujhe bhookh lagi hai" (I am hungry).

We were holidaying in DIU. DIU is a small island and used to be a Portuguese colony. It has got beaches, the Portuguese church, some good Italian restaurants, sea food, booze and peace. There are too many stories from the trip. I wish I could dish them all here. People rush to this place mostly because there is a ban on liquor in my state and nearby Diu is a good excuse to let the juices flow. I was surprised to get discounts in the resort we lived in for two days. I was amused by the fact that the Identity card of my college was doing wonders 100s of kilometers away. I was with a bunch of friends who had let the peer pressure and finance jobs bypass them and accepted marketing jobs (which was only 8% of the final job scene this year in my college).



I would put anecdotes from the trip sometime later. Right now I am bugged by my itinerary. I have finally booked tickets for GOA (the poor man's CANNES). Tiru and KayGX would join, me and Danko there in GOA after attending the IRON MAIDEN CONCERT. (oh man! y did I miss it.) Maxi is joining NOKIA which has sponsored the IRON MAIDEN CONCERT and is also Sponsoring SHAKIRA's SHOW in Mumbai. Our own Tadka is looking after the two concerts as a representative of NOKIA. Tickets/ Passes wd have been available so easily :(((((. Anyways, as of now ... following schematic diagram is supposed to represent "how jay, broke sackles, toured, laid eggs, punished cockroaches and got a life" for next 20 days.

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JAY 4:59 PM  4 comments

Theory of olives and flying sperms.

In last few days, I have chalked out 200 plans for the coming holidays and erased them. Hence, the frustration of not being able to come out with anything is growing inside me. It is pinching me and the bitterness is flowering.

Iron Maiden concert in Bangalore this month seems already a distant future. Precariously hanging, is also my Goa plan. G-Spot is dancing in the corner of my mind with his offer to go to Vaisno Devi. It is easier to fight US elections, than fix a plan for me. STD accuses me of the laziest and slowest guy to have roamed this earth.. Holy crap!!!! wd u believe it .. he he he.

I am lazy and slow. But O.J. Simpson beats me blue at that. Didn't you hear his latest claim. He says:

"Anna Nicole Smith's child is actually his. The gal child was born late because of his slow moving sperms. He hopes that there is no DNA test, otherwise it would be found that he is the father. He is among the three other men who have thrown their hats in the ring and claim the child is their."

Weird as it may sound, It would certainly do Anna proud if she is looking from the up-above. This is just the second weird findings of the week. The banana split guy, who lives close by introduced me to his cousin. Conversations took us around the world. From Charlie Sheen's hairdo in Hot Shots to Theory of olives from "How I met your mother".

She listens to Tony Flow and the Miraculously Majestic Masters of Mayhem. She says she is a big fan of their music. I said, "gulp!! gulp!! ok". It would have been easier to swallow had she just said she likes Red Hot Chilli Peppers, as the band is known now-a-days.
When she asked me what I listen to, I said, "cacophony of the weirdest lizard on earth which surely isn't miraculously majestic master of mayhem's fluidity." ..ok.. whatever it meant... bleh..

She said are u applying Theory of olives. Aha!! something I had an idea about. Theory of olives states that if you like olives and the counterpart doesn't there is an attraction.So , if some one likes red hot chilli peppers i wouldn't.
I said, "may be, if it impresses you ... however,I hardly have an idea what I am doing, except for attempting a sarcastic take on ur taste in music.. And in which I have failed measurably."

She shrugged her shoulders. I shrugged her mine.

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JAY 9:07 AM  No comment

Need to write..

The evilllllllllllllllllllllllllll has been let loose.

I just finished the last exam in my life. TOmorrrow, I will start packing to go back home after 2 loooooooooong yrs, in which was prostituted by the books. (Doesn't feel bad tho .. I was a high end call boy of the acads ).

By the looks of it, u should feel by now I am going crazy. Batasha was the 1st one I called in the moment of ecstasy. Then, I wanted to call others.....hell!!! some inhibitions stopped me from doing so. Anyways, so here I am; my heads swinging to the Voodoo child by Jimi Hendrix and my fingers moving fast over the laptop surface.

Tomorrow, The sexy-eyes-Doc is coming to the town for an Interview. He is my long time undergrad friend and is also known as the man of weird ideas in the Jay world. When we finished XII, we took admission into St. Xavier's college (not telling you which Xaviers .. na na na). So, the class had like 40 gals and 10 guys of which 3 wd remain absent. When we would sit in the Lab.. staring at the gals... Doc wd mention "Jay!!! when r they gonna make prostitution legal in the country. When wd my dream of opening a brothel be realized.Oh!! Amsterdam I miss u".
After a brief stint there in the college he followed me to the undergraduation (B. Tech.) and we had fun.......... the story thereafter is LEEE GEEEN wait a minute its coming DDDARY.

But, I will talk about all those later.. right now two stingy chopsticks .. a few sexy white grain of rice and an aphrodisiac called Water is waiting for me ........ I NEED TO EAT.

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JAY 2:51 AM  4 comments

Main Bhi Madonna: Audioslaved

This is erratic. Suddenly, I found myself with a lot of free time. It is making me go crazy and I am doing really stupid stuff. Missing old flames... awwww. Soul searching.........bullshit. Playing....... kid!!!. and Singing.............. save me!!!.. and recorded them... why??????

The 1st song I chose to better (he he he) was "Show me how to live"............. Chris Cornell .

I Know, I can't SING. But u can pass these pieces of melody as drunken frustrations of a bereaved soul. (ouch!!! the songs were less painful than Jay's writing).

So, here u go.... this time COCHISE.

and I did that again :

Now u know when I said I am going crazy, what I meant.

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JAY 1:46 PM  7 comments

Monster's Inc. Ahoy

Legs tied to the branches, I too 've been hanged upside down

and I could see a room of corpses and closed doors
Smile, as we become a part of Monster's Inc.
U lick my wound, while I lick yours.

The days of untented innocence is coming to an end. Last few days in college and its a mad rush to get a job. Nites go by discussing jobs, the hype surrounding my college and the pressure it has created on students. Cooked up stories, whimsical journalists have a field day. The salary figures quoted in news papers are largely false. The media attention and public interest has created a spell, where everyone is expected to bag a job which is top paying. These jobs are infact restricted to a certain sector and to a few only. However, ppl are sacrificing their choices and jumping into the job profiles, prolly which, they are not made for. All because they are falling prey to peer pressure.

Last few weeks, I myself witnessed emotionally and professionally testing times.( I woke up to the fact that HR (Human Resource) guys are digging up Orkut Profiles to know about candidates. Orkut has been a genuine social networking site and experiences realistic expression among frnds. In this regard, it is by far more well-behaved than Myspace, Friendster or HI5. But then u can't blame the corporates, when they are hiring people by paying a sum, which is far above the national scene. They can't afford to hire people who gonna dupe them and dump them after a brief stay. Dog eat Dog...Corporate espionage is metamorphosing.

Too bad tho, my orkut scraps don't feed the spying eyes much. It still is a nightmare for me cause half of the scraps are all about "where have u been placed (=got a job)? what about the salaries". If there is an old friend on chat, its the same Q. If its a fone call, its for only one purpose. Anyways, I don't have anything bad, that I need to hide.(In fact, I have a pretty good one.. job I mean ).

Talking of Jobs and readily available foreign exposures, I can't miss mentioning the story of Dildo and Nippo. Both of them got high paying jobs last year and are well placed in England. The story goes... During 1st few months, Dildo used to go out on weekends to clubs and pubs; while Nippo the conservative one wd stay back alone. He would pick a firang (white) chick and ask if she wd like to have a drink with him. Too bad .. no luck here dude. After constant failures, he started checking out eastern Europeans. 1st they wouldn't understand english. When they did, lol.. "no thanks". Dildo didn't get discouraged. He tried approaching Indians living in there. Lol, they won't even listen.

Now, Dildo spends time playing carom with Nippo in weekends.

U don't let ur go life like this. He he he .. so we have our share of fun at the high pressure situation. STD, Tiru me and Rubby have this tournament going on between us.

We have to play a series of sports. Me and STD on one side while Tiru and Rubby on the other. We already have lost Tennis 6-4 6-4 (don't listen if they say its 6-2 6-0). Today while we were coming back from Canteen at 3 am .. we decided to finish off the Badminton. Hola!!! we did play and we won .. he he he. So now the scores are level at 1-1 (Tennis goes to them and Baddie to us). The only game in which I am banking on STD is "wrestling". Hopefully he will get us a point in our Fightclub.

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JAY 8:25 AM  2 comments

Enlighten me Anna-Banana.

Hello ... 1,2,3... check... check. Welcome to the live coverage of the Satsang NB.
(The Notice Board is to discuss Philosophy, Gyan and naked sadhus; with their doodle-dum hanging and running into the holy waters of Ganges in Allahabad. Men at war are identified in the discussion thread only by their weird nicks.)

Super powers along Maharashtra questions : Why did Anna Nicole Smith Die?
Pickbrain says consistency is the key to sucksess responds : Please elaborate how this is related to enlightenment or this NB.

Super powers along Maharashtra replies : Anna Nicole Smith was one of the few individuals who had the ability to bring men "up" when they were down and spread warmth and "holiness" throughout the land. She could only be rivaled by Mother Teresa, Mahatma Gandhi in these respects. So if we can understand why, and possibly how she died, we would be able to uncover a part of the mystery that is life and death.

Pickbrain says consistency is the key to sucksess replies : I learn something new everyday.

Small people are called midgets interrupts the discussion : he he... I don't expect you Grande poopooba to not understand these things.

Che Gubbara : bad karma

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JAY 10:32 PM  1 comment

Body odor and women: POTtY tales

A few days back a stupid news item featured in our NEWS NB (Notice Board). It followed a long discussion, culminating into a grand finale.

The news was about how women are attracted by body odor of men and hence the deo sales should go down. It was the byproduct of so many trivial researches that toe-nail-chewing scientists do.

"Cortisol levels in the women who smelled androstadienone, a derivative of testosterone; shot up within roughly 15 minutes and stayed elevated for up to an hour."


Androstadienone is the male chemical signal. Here.....I drop it and there u get dropped.

Apart from the nasty scientific discussion we can indulged in, a lot of single male species came in with a new found argument. They justified their singledom and inability of female appeasement to their regular bathing habits and hygiene. Hydrophobia would result in a stinking male homo sapiens, which would coz the human body to be the fort of accumulated androstadienone and thus females would stick to him.

Soon, the repercussions were seen in the Annual POTY awards (Person of the year awards). A separate category was created for "hydrophobia award" for the one who bathes the least.

POTY nite didn't spring any surprise. Geela hosted the awards nite (which is also our farewell nite). The hydrophobia award was bagged by none other than our neighbor peepu.. Yikes!!.

Moment of reckoning came when "ADAM and EVE award" for the most sticky couple was announced and the winner was again Dopey and Peepu.

Geela straightway announced, their stickiness to be the true testament for the article on women and odor.

Geela: "Dopey; sticking with peepu, the hydrophobia award winner!!! It has to be true love...

.. but, Dopey..."

with frustration and anguish in his face, he screams: " .....HOW?"

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JAY 12:51 AM  3 comments

The pregnant woman.

Once upon a time, when Jay had a plan (refer the previous post). Aliens launched a "crack attack".. blisters sprouted on the skin.. dark clouds covered the sky.. television had "Oprah" all day... Britney won a Grammy.. Bush got a third term.

**snap**

They started drinking too many too fast. shots after shots. Cranberry nectar packs were short. During the western choreo itself, peepu and G-spot made a mess of it. Peepu started rolling all over the floor. Dopey had more than a handful to hold. Rubby was trying to pacify everyone.
To cool everyone down, we came back to the canteen. sipping coffee and chit-chatting. Fashion parade was about to begun. Suddenly, the three men (Rubby, peepu and G-spot), expressed their desire to be taken to the room. Dopey took Peepu. Komal took G-spot and I took Rubby.

That was not a good idea.

Rubby puked all over. After that, I stayed in my room looking after Rubby. Meanwhile, Fashion Parade got over and Prestorika performed in my absence. Nextday, the remorse of missing out on the metal bands' bitch-slap-kick-ass music took over Rubby and he kept abusing me for not taking care of him. I kept wondering "wtf".

and yes The Caribbeans turned the tables and whipped the naked ass of Indians.

So, we decided not to drink and spoil our plans like this again (Still we had two days of concert to go). After delivering a baby, A pregnant woman always swears not to go through all that pain again.
___________________________________________________________________
hangover persists.. everyone is feeling wasted . After the boring day, a round of fone calls start among the friends. I pinch everyone with a message : "I am the unconquered one as everyone else couldn't handle the vodka fest".

Rubby takes the bait: "bitch, I started drinking when u were in the womb".

"What do u say dopey, feel like drinking b4 the show?" "I just woke up and my head still hurts plus I have an assignment submission tomorrow". " ..picture two months ahead and everyone else has nothing else left in life but to watch data from Reuters on the computer screen. None of the friends would be around"

pause.pause.pause.
Dopey : " Can u get me some dope"

( Alas! After an year she gets pregnant again)

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JAY 8:59 AM  2 comments

Cranberries with the pyromaniac

Today is the third day into "Chaos". Its already 5 pm. Western Choreo is gonna start in an hour. It would be followed by Fashion Parade and then the whole nite ROCK competition to be moderated and judged by Prestorika.

Meanwhile , down south in Chennai, Indian Batsmen are murdering the Caribbeans in cricket.

To keep up the pace with all the excitement we have made arrangements to spice up our mood. We just came back from the mall and we bought Cranberry Nectar (loads), Red Bull and Lays. The news has just filtered in that Vodka wouldn't be at premium.

Rubby, Myself, Komal, G-SPOT(yes, thats his name), Peepu and Dopey planned for everything yestrday itself after a dull Remo and Mynta performance. So, we are gonna assemble in Dopey's room and gonna pour all the Vodka inside and go to the Fashion parade. (muahahahah! we would be allowed in the premium section of the crowd because we are volunteering for some logistic work in the Fashion parade and the Fashion Parade Coordinator STD is our dorm mate )

Dopey has god level limits of boozing and she maintains such composure. However, her boyfriend the pyromaniac peepu would do the balancing act by going wild. Hope we will be able to keep the match box and lighter away from his sight.
Anyways. its better that he goes wild, because I would need company for my post drinking no-holds-barred act of craziness.


(thankfully, I was able to push aside all the relatives, who asked for guest passes of the shows and wanted me to be with them during the show.. he he he I am evil). In the pic, u can see pyromaniac peepu at his decent best.

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JAY 3:37 AM  1 comment

Search for Comic Relief :Rumble in the THONG

This is last weeks' pursuit of much needed comic relief in various dimensions:

Hog the blog:
Bloggers have been writing their way to glory on some trite and boring subjects(or may be I was reading the saddest of them all).I was getting really despo to read stuffs that can titillate me. Then, I bumped into David Maiki's excellent work of creativity and imagination through a list of 12 most humoruos people on the net. David Maiki's combination of contemporary theme with archaic surroundings is worth having a look at, than reading gossips about Angelina or talking about immaterial-racial-mud-slinging-in-a-reality show (read Big Brother). Anyways, it gave me the pip to rejuvenate my own immature attempt at wearing the thong again through my greenhorns. Making a complete strip requires a lot of effort.. pheww!!(Dude!.. have u seen a GUY struggling in a thong or trying to manage a Saree.. IT indeed is an effort..nvm if u don't get what I said.)

Rumble in the thong:
Now this may not be funny for most of you but it is for me. Like an year ego me and a friend of mine had this bet that Hillary Clinton is gonna run for the HOT SEAT or not. I have been watching her moves with anticipation of a pregnant woman and here she gave in to the itch in her thong. Some of these women have extreme discomfort in their undergarments and u can easily find it out looking at their movements.

Domestic LOL:
People have been suggesting putting in some hot pics which can finally put the ratings of your blog high. (Afterall blogging has been reduced to popularity charts and number of clicks.) I was asked to join CLICKY (web statistics) and it handed me my 1st laughter of the week.

"this dude from US clicked my blog post pornucopia while he was looking for underage literotica in google"

Sick.

So, I looked at more of masala stuff in surroundings to put in my blog and the closest I could come up was this pic :

This guy is my dorm mate and is an ex-Adobe employee. (I can reveal this coz his face has been destroyed to an unrecognizable extent... he he).Thats cake on his face.
No wonder why I run away and they can't find me in my birthdays.

Anyways, we have been doing 007 to find out to whom does the finger belong.. Sucking up to whom.

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JAY 7:52 AM  12 comments

Jagshemash Borat

(which means How r u Borat)Borat Sagdiyev, originally Sacha Baron Cohen, is a funny character. I was introduced to this insane guy in the Da Ali G show on HBO. Then, I saw one of his movies where he mocks the British parliament. He is in news cause of the controversy surrounding his mockumentary : "Borat: cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan".

Here is an excerpts from his biography :
Borat Sagdiyev is a Kazakh reporter who was born in 1972 in Kusek, Kazakhstan. He is the son of Asimbala Sagdiyev and Boltok the Rapist, who is also his maternal grandfather. He is also the former husband of Oksana Sagdiyev, who was daughter of Mariam Tulyakbay and Boltok the Rapist. His relationship with his mother seems to be unpleasant, and Borat has commented that "she wishes she was raped by another man." Borat has a sister named Natalya, who is regarded as the 4th best prostitute in Kazakhstan, and with whom he often fornicates; a younger brother named Bilo, who is mentally retarded and must be kept locked behind a metal door or in a cage. In an interview, Borat said, "My brother Bilo has a small head but very strong arms. He have 204 teeth (193 in mouth 11 in nose)! You can do anything to him - he do not remember nothing! He is a sex crazy ... all day long he in his cage look on porno and rub rub rub!"

"......Borat's hobbies include ping pong, disco dancing, shooting dogs for fun, and taking pictures of women on the toilet....Borat claims to have the tightest anus of his village, tight enough to open a bottle of Pepsi."

"...He was sent by the Kazakh government and television network. He has also said that if his movie about the United States isn't successful, that he "will be executed".

Borat walks side by side with controversies. He himself is Jewish but he is seen as the flag bearer of anti-semitism. The tennis room chaps can recall Croat the weirdo had once nicknamed himself after Borat.

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JAY 11:22 PM  12 comments