And it all begins to make sense, drop by drop of blue blooded envy

For some reason, as of yet to be fully understood, I tend to initiate anger-like feelings in the hearts and minds of members of the female sex. A certain animosity if you will. The puzzling thing is that the arousal of such feelings is (almost) never my intention for I am one of those who genuinely believe that there are few sweeter sounds than a woman’s laugh.

I think that is a perfect paragraph. It displays the correct usage of grammar , there is no abuse of any apostrophe or semi -colon and there is certainly no violation of the unwritten code relating to all matters of prose.

Point proven.

Shall we move on then?

I suppose that all good, meaty biryani has a little bit of sweat in it. A little from that chap who watches over the slowly cooking meat, perhaps a few drops from the forehead of the chap who breaks open the seal or a few shakes from the guy who layers the meat over the rice etc etc.

I suppose.

I like the idea of blue blood. I can understand why those who possess blue blood would be haughty as shit. I mean can you imagine, you are playing the playground and all the little snot-faced kids are running around and you scrape your knee and blue blood comes out. That would make you so special.

Either that or the kids would turn “Lord of the Flies” type and stone you to death.

I think mermaids are the souls of gay pirates. Or perhaps they were created to reflect the hidden homo-sexual tendencies of pirates. Who knows for sure, I am just guessing around. Though it does make sense if you think about it.

I just love the words “if you think about it”. Place that at the end of almost any, completely fucked up sentence and you can actually get a pause from the listening party.

“Dude, so baby sperm are those sperm which haven’t grown into full sperm. Its actually pretty logical, if you think about it…..”

“So she tells me that I need to use brake oil on my cheeks. Which makes sense, if you think about it….”

If I lived in the ’70s I would totally be writer for MAD Magazine. Actually I would totally wish I was a writer for MAD Magazine. Or rather, I would totally wish that I was in the ’60’s. Actually I would totally wish that I was a writer for MAD Magazine in the ’60s.

This could go on for quite some time.

Speaking of which, apparently there are going to be some major ass celebrations in the city for independence day.

Oh and white pants make me smile. Or rather they remind me of PE class in school and this one chap who wore white full pants way before anyone else did. Cause he had super hairy legs or something like that.

Fuck, school kids are mean.