Well not really.
It is terribly easy for me to be grumpy these days.
What the fuck is with all these videos “going viral” all over the fucking place? I mean its even in the fucking newspapers nowadays! If I wanted to fucking know what fucking video of which dick doing what went viral, I would not want to read about it in the fucking papers.
That and printing celebrity tweets. I have never been a big fan of twitter (barring a brief highly addictive 20 day period) and I sure as hell don’t want to know what some shit-celeb wants to say in 140 characters or less.
Simply cannot believe the things that make it to the paper these days. It just ruins the mood. And the morning crap.
A ruined morning crap.
That is one frikkin sure fire method of becoming a big grumpus.
But naa….its all good in the end. Except for you. You, I will be pissed off at for a long long time. For sure. H to the Izzo. S to the Sizzzle yaw dizzli-yo.
I have a theory that the stereotypical Punju is like the stereotypical blacks of India. Love gold, love being loud, love chicken…..tons of similarities man. I think there is something to be inferred from that. Not quite sure what.
The Sister visited me for a couple of days. Went to pick her up from the airport. Turns out that she fractured her leg and sprained her neck. So all I saw at the arrival counter was a tiny thing holding a walking-stick thingie and a neck brace. Hobbling with a luggage trolley.
Funniest thing in the world.
Her walking sticky thingie has a reflector on it. A REFLECTOR. kwahahahahahahahahhaha…i guess that is for times when she is walking on the highway or something.
And the neck brace means that she cant turn her neck. So just for kicks I walk beside her and then call out her name and say “dude look at that” and point at something to her side. Watch as she struggles to turn her neck and then eventually has to turn her entire body to see what I am pointing out.
Oooooh went to this bar after a long long time and it was absolutely wonderful. Cheap and absolutely no-nonsense, I was told about this place by my aunt and have been a fan of it ever since. It is cheap and it is open late and it is safe for women and it is cheap and it serves decent food and it is cheap (you get the idea right)
Best part was the countdown to midnight and then bursting into the “Happy budday” song for one of my friends. It was not even her budday. but the entire room joined in and it was gorgeous. Full crowd support.
I saw two performances over the last week and as I sat there I began to wonder what an artist thinks of while performing and whether this is what art is all about. Cause it sure as hell aint for the money. Is there a rush when you stand on the stage and you dance or you act and the crowd’s attention, all those eyes, are on you but you can’t really see them because of the bright lights?
I don’t know but I really would like to find that out.
May you be the sexually confused godfather of a hundred guinea pigs.