Where I tell you that you are a bitch with a capital B and you pull out the atlas and prove me wrong. Again.

Geddit? Geddit? Capital. Atlas.

Oh dear lord, I must really reduce my funniness quotient. Otherwise, I shall die.

Of all the inanimate objects in the world, I think windmills display the most extreme emotions. When the wind is blowing, they are all proud and happy and whizzing their arms at moderate-to-high speeds; they are beaming with self purpose and determination.

But when there is no wind then they just sort of stand there, alone and sad. Morose with much self-introspection.


So the Metallica concert got cancelled up in saddi dalhi. Which is kinda sad coz I really wanted my punjabi brothers to enjoy a bit of good old headbanging. Guess that was not to be.

I wonder what a performer sees when s/he performs before a punju crowd. Like a sea of turbans. All moving and jumping in the darkness. Man, that would be pretty awesome. Varry naice actually.


The positively ancient laptop that I am currently typing out this post on cannot keep pace with my typing speed. Or my backspace-tapping speed. Its kind of like an eraser which has gone out of control. Or like racing a boat. Or that car in the game “Mafia” which you had to steal and then drop off at the boss’s warehouse within a particular time. That car was pretty difficult to manouvere let me tell you that.



What else what else. A very chuddi buddy of mind just completed a course at that vipassana thing. You know, the one where they keep silent for a reallllly long time and meditate the day away. Am waiting to hear her detailed report on the same.

I cant quite imagine myself doing that. I mean, the dude who wakes me up at four in the morning. He is gonna ear a fucking earful I can assure you that. Then that chap who tells me I can’t order from Dominoes…that guy is gonna get some verbal a-bombs thrown at him for sure.

Actually, perhaps I should try it out. Apparently it really calms you down and teaches you a lot of things about yourself.

Like what a blue whale would feel like if it ever read the wikipedia entry on itself.

Shit, I should get a wikipedia entry. Under “Gods” or “Greatest Men of the 22nd century” or something like that.

What have I become? Oh dear lord, WHAT HAVE I BECOME?????

Screamed the dyslexic woman who had just woken up after a sex-change operation.


This entry was posted in How would I know?!? and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Where I tell you that you are a bitch with a capital B and you pull out the atlas and prove me wrong. Again.

  1. QQ says:

    Fans are similar. You can really “push” (or flick) their buttons to get them going or make them slow down, stop and think about why they are just literally hanging around in your house

    • kroswami says:

      Dude!! Now you got me walking round the house, staring at the fans. Wondering if they need some uppers or something

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