Where we come back, stupid little trailers in the movie of Life

Okay fine. That was cheesy, but it just had to be said.

Sometimes, just some times, I worry about how sick the insides of my head are. Like full proper gutter material only.

Like I was just thinking that if I could choose any body part to be completely movable, the penis would be it. I would move it all over the place, depending on the situation. Like if I was on a bicycle, I would move it near the stomach or the chest area. If you have ever landed on a cycle rod, you know what I am talking about. And then when I am feeling all rude, I would switch my penis to my palm, and then go around waving it all around (put your hands up ya’all, said the DJ).

And then when those fucking sugar-high kiddies are running around me, I would put it somewhere high above, near my forehead or something. (Look amma, that is Elephant uncle – would take a whole new meaning yes?)

gahaahahahahahhahahahahahahha.

Im a fuckin sicktard.

Brutus is back in my life and god I missed her! I didnt realise just how much I missed her until last night when we went down the cold, cold streets and I could hear her urge and strain under the leash and I could feel her laugh as we rushed under the streetlights and danced along the curved roads.

If you have never had the joy of just screaming and laughing into a helmet, you have missed something. You really have.

Now I just have to plan another road trip and I am in the game baby.

What else what else. So apparently no one wants to see Yamla Pagla Deewana Part 2 and both my movie guggus are too far away. The perfect movie guggu is the one who will go with you for the shitties (and I do mean the shittiest) movies. You need to be slightly demented and sadistic to be a movie guggu.

Guggu.

Oh oh and I went to Madras (the capital of South India apparently) and it was just so gorgeous. What a city; I really have fallen in love with it. You know there is more than a bit of Calcutta in that city; you can walk here and there and suddenly see a beautiful, beautiful house lying all alone and forsaken. And the shops on signs have century-old fonts and if you close your eyes, you can well imagine a time long past. And then there is the food, the steaming filter kaapi and soft soft idlis and Grand Sweets adi rasam (or whatever) and spicy biriyani and all that.

But the best bit, and I do mean the BESTEST bit, about Madras is….the use of the words “aa maa”. I fuckin love it.

It is brilliant and I am just so surprised that the customer care industry has not caught onto it yet. It has got to be one of the most soothing things to be said, and carries so much sincerity.

“Hello, your faulty kitchen stove burnt down my house”

Aa maaa

“I have no where to go, my children and I are living on the streets”

Aaa maaa

“I am going to sue your company to bankruptcy”

Aa maaa

“You are right, I should calm down”

Aa maaaaaaaa

“Okay, thanks for listening to me. Catch you later”

Aaa maaa.

Brilliant. Just so frikkin brilliant.

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