The truth, like a yellow giant duckling, is often hard to ignore

If you have no clue what I am talking about, see this.

Anyway, balconies in Bombay are a lot like Parsis – fuckers keep dying. And I was thinking whether every month, in some tiny part of the city, worried balconies get together and discuss their impending doom. Whether the old timers, all stylish and curvy, mutter omniously while the younger ones (with glass everything) laugh and scoff at them. In my head that is really funny – the meeting of balconies. Cause I am sure they would meet in some club or something like that, and have this special entrance where they can slip in and slip out without anyone noticing.

Fuck. Balconies.

What else, what else.

So apparently someone has figured out that sweat itself is not stinky, it is the bacteria which form later or some shit like that. Tried it out by jumping onto my sleeping rooomie after sweating it out in the morning sun. Said roomie now disagrees with abovetoreferred in above scientist/theoretician.

Oh theoreticians. That is an awesome vocation. Just theorise the shit out of everything. It does not even have to be useful, as long as its a theory, you have done your job. I wonder what their job appraisal forms have and I wonder whether there is something like a Senior Th or a Managing Th or a Partner Th. It’s annoying title though: Th. You probably sound like you have a lisp. “Hi I am Akbar Th.” or “I am Th. Akbar”.

What else what else baba.

Super Sunday means watching endless movies. Or rather back to back the movies.

You know how the old music cassettes would have a short clipping of the dialogue before the song? I wish they brought that back. I wish a lot of things could be brought back. But you know how it is. Those things have been packed into a truck named Past and are now chugging down the highway of Forgotten.

I really wish the names of streets were a little more imaginative. Like instead of frikkin MG Road you could have Mota Road. And you could have one “Ayyoo” road somewhere in south india, and one “behenchod road” in Chandigarh and one “Aye what man” road in Byculla and so and so forth.

Uniformity does have its attractions but it is also can be mind numbingly boring.

Numb mind. Frozen mind. The brain chattering away because of the tremendous wind force and chill factor. Ooooo Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles had that brain. The one who was in the stomach of that robot thing. Brain.

I think I just found my hero:

This entry was posted in complete and utter bullshit, do you really close your eyes when you pee, mera naam johnny hai, picche se bhrastachaar and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The truth, like a yellow giant duckling, is often hard to ignore

  1. ano says:

    and all those celebrity balconies. constructed by playwrights like wilde and shakespeare.

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