Where I thrust my clothed crotch in your face, repeatedly and with grunts

Can you feel that???  Can you? Ken ya? Feeeeeeel that….oh ya. Ohhhhh ya. Oh the EVIL energy. Thrust thrust thrust thrust!!!

Ok. Sorry.

I just had to do that.

You see, me and lovely lady Brutus have just completed seventeen hundred kilometers across the country. Seventeen hundred frikkin clicks of just brutus, me and the lovely road running on and on.

It was gorgeous, it was breath taking and there were times when I had such a massive grin on my face that I began to feel some solid respect for air hostesses (or are they all penis sounding stewards now?). There were even times when I was screaming and singing into the helmet as I “thump thump thumped” through tiny villages and bumped along tiny roads; through desert and highways and mountains and hills. Roadside dhabhas and rests on charpoys and stopping at fuel stations for the butt to de-numb.

Sure it was painful at times. The back and the knees and the bum and all that. But absolutely worth it. Absolutely. I would do it again dear motherfuckas. I would.


I think all dishes should be served according to the number of people at the table. Like if there are two, then it should have four pieces (or in multiples of two), if there are three then it should be in three pieces (or multiples of three) and so on and so forth. Of course with an outer limit of five or so.

I don’t like that extra piece which everyone is eyeing and yet no one takes it. And so it just becomes cold and then when someone finally does get it (or, and this is more likely, the waiter becomes the final arbiter) it is all cold and not that tasty.

This of course, is only applicable, to meals with people you are not comfortable with. With friends I go completely caveman. First grabbed first served (that sounds kinda molestish na?)


I also do not like the fact that the word “member” is often used to describe a penis. Especially when I apply for membership to clubs and societies and the like. Makes me feel like a penis. Or a perv.


I like having a penis. It feels good (at times) to have something dangling between the legs. I dunno, there is something very comforting about it. A friend of mine, in moments of nervousness, would clutch his balls. Relief-inspiring set of ‘nads he had apparently. Unfortunately, things would get a little nagasaki-like when he had to ask someone out. That was not funny. For him…..For me it was like a frikkin circus. Best seats in the house.


More than a few months ago, while enjoying a rare non-working day in Delhi, I lunched with a recently married couple. Both high-earners, both highly qualified and both rather ambitious. While lunching, however, I was struck by how demure the woman had become. It was like the dude was the Source of all knowledge and she was a weakling who knew nothing. So the Dude was encouraged to share his knowledge with everyone while ole Wifey made simpering noises and the like.

It was kinda disgusting but at the same time I could not help wonder who was playing whom or whether I was just being a cynical prick about it.

Who knows. (Rhetorical. Do not answer)


I like rhetorical questions. I like sign language too. Its kinda like refined body language. I wonder how mute people would communicate over large distances. Like shouting range distances. Whether there would be an exaggerated set of signs, where you dance out your message or whether you do something like the “whyyyy-em-see-aye” dance.

Fuck. That is kinda mean.


I just can’t imagine a mute person having the fortitude to carry binoculars all the time. All mute persons actually. Cause both parties would need the aid of binoculars.

I wonder how deaf people play chinese whispers, Ok fuck this is just getting too mean.

Man it would be killer to be partially deaf while playing chinese whispers. You could totally ask the person to repeat what they just said.

Ok stop.


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3 Responses to Where I thrust my clothed crotch in your face, repeatedly and with grunts

  1. J says:

    As I was reading, realised that since I began working, I must have commuted well over 1700 kilometres 😦

  2. Jay says:

    *sigh* marriage does that to people…

    • kroswami says:

      YOUR 1700 kms = home + TRAFFIC + work + TRAFFIC + home
      MY 1700 kms = deserts + arrow straight roads + curvy hills + forts + forests + drizzles

      and marriage “does” a lot of people

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