Out of focus/Out of sight

I had this passing thought just now.

We all know so many people. It being a shrinking world and all that.

And we get to hear names and exploits of so many people about who we know nothing much else other than the fact that he could do a mean "Guna" Kamal Hassan imitation that was agreed upon to be the best by anyone who witnessed it. And that's about it. We don't know anything else about him.

This is to dedicated to all those "out of focus" characters.

And to all those who have disappeared from my rather defunct radar.

Thanks for letting the air flow.

Hey!

We want change.

I like only men now.
Sorry ladies.
Good luck landin another lunatic.
So long and thanks for all the PMSing.

PS: I'm taken.

"Thambi, chillrayaa kudupaa. Changey illa. I want change."

- Conductor, 47D bus, MTC.

The beach.

hahaha hahaha hahahaha.
It's a nice feeling to suddenly feel loved from all around.
Everyone has something nice to say to you.
I love you. Marry me. I'm fond of you. I hate you. So cute you are. Muah. You puzzle me. I'll never get you. I miss you. and so on.
And it's a completely different feeling when the person you are in love with calls you and tells you he's coming to town to spend the weekend with you.
Like the sound of a balloon popping, the bajji frying, the little girl crying, the lovers whispering, the ice cream man's bell ringing, kids shouting, all so beautiful by themselves but all drowned out by the crashing of waves on the beach that possesses you like nothing else can.

Vote I say!

Pls all of you vote for Captain tomorrow. Because our country is facing a major terrorist threat and only captain can save us. So vote for captain tomorrow! Captain Raaaaaakksssssssss. Captain for PM! Captain is our saviour. Captain is our God. Vote for Captain.

PS: I know it's quite redundant for me to preach politics here. Most of those who read my blagh are displaced from homelands. But still. I love the man. He is the Captain.

tattoos

I've been nursing this idea for a while now.
And then I saw Eastern Promises and the idea grew into something bigger.
Finally it has taken a decent enough shape to be blogged about.
Hopefully I'll incorporate it some day.

This is the idea.
I want to tattoo the names (or atleast initials) of all the men and women in my life who have been special. Around my pelvis. Like a belt. A low hip belt. But I think pelvis is not such a great region to get a lot of tattoos done and I'm sure it is gonna hurt a lot so I don't mind including my fleshy thighs. So basically all around my groin region, I'd tattoo names of people who have been special to me.

Now, I'll tell you how it started off. During one of our underwear conversations, I suddenly came up with this wild idea. To write just below the navel, "N was here" with an arrow pointing downwards with lipstick or something. Obviously, it was shot down. But me being me, pursued it for a while and even thought of suggesting that it should be made permanent with a tattoo!

Now think about it. Next time you are getting it on with someone, you are going at it with passion and frenzy and you are taking off your clothes in a hurry and then Wham! There it is. In bold greenish blue. N WAS HERE. Arrow pointing down. The awkward silence. One of those master card priceless moments. That's really what I wanted to achieve. But the person might get turned off by this sign post, take diversion and take a walk denying you the badly needed action.

I obviously did not want you to stop getting action for the sake of a silly prank that I wanted to play. But then it's too good an idea to be just forgotten about.
So, what I thought I'd do, I'd get the tattoo for myself!
So there are two possible lists that I could tattoo there.
1) List of men and women who had been there. There = groin region.
2) List of men and women who have played a special part in my life, ordinary people who have made me feel extraordinary things, who have changed my life in so many ways, who have played and still play significant roles in shaping me, who have i loved, will always love, who I have hated after having loved them to pieces, etc etc etc.

Now list 2 is more colorful and interesting than list 1. Simply because list 1 has very few names as of now and all the names in the list aren't as significant as those in list 2. (I do not intend to include those who had been there before I came of age.)
But list 2 is very long and includes a lot of people starting from my parents, school teachers, college profs, random strangers, lowes, best friends, mentors etc etc.
Now coming up with a consolidated, top 10 -15 list is a little difficult. So I'm planning to stick to only the most life changing few. And only taking into consideration the post-adolescent relations and influences.

Now, this list would also include people I am not in touch with anymore, people I hate, people I don't wish to think about, leave alone tattooing their names. But I should still acknowledge their role in my life, no? It would help me come to terms with my "past" *snort*.
But the reason that I like this idea so much is that when I take off my pants, I would be truly naked. Not holding anything back. Anyone who gets to see me naked would also get to know who all had a hand in making me the lunatic that I am. Plus, it would be a shocker. And make for great post sex conversations. What do you think?

Oh, and it would be updated on a regular basis, more names added to the list, names of my wives and kids and girlfriends and boyfriends and best friends and old age home friends...
I am also thinking of using the wordpress tags concept - bigger font for most important people and smaller font for the lesser ones. And also allotting different regions for different relationships. Left thigh for the men, Right thigh for the women and so on.

And when I'm really old, I'd be all shrunk and my skin wrinkled and it would all merge into a dull greenish patch, like moss on the steps of temple tanks, telling a story that only the steps know about. Monsoons would come, and with the monsoons, new aquatic life, fishes would come nibble at the moss and go away, not showing any particular interest, Kids would come play in the water, look curiously, and they would see new patterns emerging from it but before they lose their footing and plunge headlong into the tank, their parents would call out to them, ask them to get away from the dirt and the filth and they would run away having found something else to amuse themselves with.
And then the summer. And the drought.
The tank would go dry.
The moss would disappear.
Emptiness.

I feel like giving a foot massage.
Any takers?
I'm quite an expert.
A lot of people can vouch for that.
And I promise not to go any higher than the ankle.
Age, no bar. Sex, no bar.
Anyone?

First we'll use hot water to wash and a soft towel to wipe the feet.
Then we can pick from a variety of perfumed oils to suit your tastes.
I do not use instruments. My hands are my only instruments.
And you can choose between half hour and one hour sessions.
Yeah?

PS: And do not suspect my intentions. I really like giving foot massages!

Vincent: Have you ever given a foot massage?
Jules: [scoffs] Don't be tellin' me about foot massages. I'm the foot fuckin' master.
Vincent: Given a lot of 'em?
Jules: Shit yeah. I got my technique down and everything, I don't be ticklin' or nothin'.
Vincent: Would you give a guy a foot massage?
[Jules gives Vincent a long look, realizing he's been set up]
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You give them a lot?
Jules: Fuck you.
Vincent: You know, I'm getting kinda tired. I could use a foot massage myself.
Jules: Man, you best back off, I'm gittin' a little pissed here.

- Pulp Fiction (1994)

The abandon

Sigh.
Never mind my random rants.
He was here on Monday.
We were high for most part of the 100 odd hours we spent together.
It was magical.
Picture this.
We rolled a joint and smoked up at the beach.
It was around 9pm.
The waves...
The warmth of the sand.
The abandon.

Irony

Think about it.
Here I am, pining away for a handsome alpha male to come sweep me off my feet, and there are all these amazing, beautiful women telling me these nice things, making their presence felt, and just being awesome in general.
Thank you all. You are very kind.


The count is five and a half so far.
Where the fuck are the dudes when you need them?

Why won't you?

Why won't guys buy me a nice tall drink, sit me down and go, "so..?"?
I know I can make you laugh out loud, sob with me, spout lines from your favorite movies, quote poets and heroes, sing out of tune for me, dance out of step with me and make it into your 1001 memorable nights. And all of this without breaking a sweat.
Sure, I'm not pretty. But, you'd be drunk before you know it and I'd be drunk before I know it and we'd be at it before anyone notices. I'd even make breakfast the morning after.

I guess it is the stubble eh?

PS: The Roll Call is still on. Please make your presence felt. Have a nice day.

Roll Call

"Sir, Yes Sir!"
"Ullaen Aiya!"
"Unnanu Sir!"
"Present Ma'am!"
"Aaajar Sir!"
"Keeraen Sir!"
"Yesss Misss!"

You may chose one of the above or use your imagination.
I'm conducting a roll call to find out who's reading my blog.
I was under the impression it was two and a half women.
Looks like there are more.

You can post a comment anywhere on this blog and make your presence felt. You have the choice of remaining anonymous. I shall not publish your comment if you don't want me to.
Even those who've been reading/commenting regularly are requested to take part in this roll call.
Thank you for your co-operation.
Have a nice day.

Who the hell is Basaveshwara and why is he on my 5 rupee coin?

Dad showed me a new five rupee coin and asked me what it said on the reverse.
I saw portrait of a person with a crown and jewels. Along the periphery it says "MAHATMA BASAVESHWARA" and something like "Bhakti-Kayak-Daasoh-Samnaa" in Hindi.
I did some googling.
First I land at this glowing speech by the PM that begins,
"I feel privileged to associate myself with the issuing of a coin in honour of the great mystic and social reformer, Mahatma Basaveshwara. In our history of social reform, Mahatma Basaveshwara stands out as an extraordinary personality. He wielded temporal power and, at the same time, had a spiritual bent of mind. He fought against ritualism and social rigidities and for a more humane social order. He was a crusader against untouchability and worked to establish a classless and casteless society. It is a token of our admiration and deep regard for him that we are all gathered here today."
And I'm all intrigued. But the speech doesn't give me too many facts.
And the next link tells me that a statue of his was unveiled in parliment premises in 2003.

And then I find the vicky page that I was looking for!
Basava (also known as Basaveshwara) was a 12th century philosopher and a social reformer.
That vicky page is long and waxes eloquently about his achievements. He was a rebel and a revolutionary. He tried to get rid of untouchability, created Virashaivism which questioned the supremacy of Brahmins, and was one of the big boys of the Bhakti Movement.
Girish Karnad wrote a play in 1989, Taledanda, set in 12th century which takes inspiration from Basava's story.

Alright, so where was this 12th century dude all this while? Why so much lowe for him suddenly?
I mean, how come I've not heard of him before? Did he even figure in my school history textbooks?
I don't remember.
You tell me.
You also tell me what this whole thing actually means.
I'm at a loss for words.

Messages from within

20/3/2009 13:15
Are lies safer than truths?

20/03/09 16:55
nationalelectionwatch.org, a govt website*, has full details about the current MP and the candidates for the upcoming elections from all constituencies. It gives essential details like educational qualification, details of pending and convicted cases if any, political experience, party manifesto, etc. Please forward this to everyone and ensure you choose the right person.

23/03/09 00.45
kannadasan karaikudi
pera solli uthi kudi
kunnakudi machanapol padaporaen daa
kannaadi kopaiyilae, kannamoodi nichalladi
urugaiya thottukitta , odippogum kaachaladi
bodhai enbadhu oru pambu vesham daa
saerndhu kudichaa adhu oru socialism daa

*Later found out that it's a collective effort of 1200 NGOs.

games people play

It is essential to remember that any game, be it chess, gilli, kabbadi, video game, mario, cricket, rugby, cuplings, spoonlings, dikkilona, soccer, golf, mini-golf, beer-pong, spin-the-bottle, tail the donkey, paandi, soodhaatam etc etc etc, be it any game on earth. It is essential to remember that two people can play it.

The only way you are gonna be sure of victory is by planning ahead and making sure you are atleast 32 moves into the game before the other person realizes it.

Yes. That only.
Two can play that game.
And every other game.

Nuts!

It is so easy to understand someone if you look at them objectively.
It's not just a random statement of a well established fact.
It is a deep felt realization.
How did that happen?
I'll tell you.

I happen to know this person's gmail id and password.
(Now, don't immediately go change your password. Its not you! Or is it? Hahahahhahahahaha)
was quite bored one day and was reminded of this person and thought, "Hey! I'll go check out what's in that person's inbox." and a wicked smile blossomed. :->
And so I did.

Hahahahahahahahaha.

Of course, I did not meddle with anything. It was simply an unobtrusive observation.
It was loads of fun. It was almost like having an underwear conversation.*

Now that objective observation was not about this person! But about this other person hitting on another person whose login passwd also I happen to know. :-)
It is so bledy obvious I tell you!
In fact, I did not even know if that person was being hit on or not.
Until I saw it for myself.
ROFL!!!
It just pops out suddenly and I realise what's going on and fall down laughing.
But I gotta give it to that person for keeping it nice and subtle.
Subtle, my hairy ass! :D
The funniest part is that this person does not even realize that.
I am very tempted to reveal more. But I shouldn't.
I really want to see where this is headed.
Don't worry. I'll keep you posted.
And DO NOT worry. It is NOT you.

So what am I gonna do next?
Wait and watch.
But this is a deep felt realization. Isn't it supposed to be life changing?
Hmmm... You mean I should learn to be subtle and nice henceforth whenever I'm hitting on someone?
Meh. I'm not hitting on anyone these days.
It's just so pointless.
(Aside - I've been meaning to make a list of overrated things in life and conversations are at the top of my list. Followed by texting and chat.)
Hitting on involves pointless conversation!
Especially, the getting-to-know-each-other kinda conversations.
You seldom end up talking anythning deep. How deep can you go when you have a character limit of 160 (the mobile phone's and sometimes the person's too.) or when you get txt lik dis?
I've done it a few times and it gets boring after a while and all it is useful for is to build more conversations.

Example,
girl - Hey, what's your favourite color?
boy - ummm... black, blue. what's yours?
girl - oh my god! I love blue! especially aquamarine. And wine color.
boy - oh that's so nice. I'll remember that.

later...

boy - guess what color underwear i just bought???
girl - lol! How am i supposed to guess that?? green? :O
boy - no idjat. aquamarine! I specifically asked for it.
girl - oh so cool! That's my faaaaavvvv color!

And so on.

The point to note here is that the boy did not know what aquamarine really looked like and might have wondered why she didn't call it sea blue. So clearly he did not buy an aquamarine underwear. He simply remembered the color and put it to good use.
The girl too realises that either the boy's a weirdo to buy aquamarine undie or that he is trying to give subtle hints. She hopes it is the latter, like the attention and continues conversation.

But there are a few who try the oh-I'm-so-deep kinda msgs too. They usually end up sounding like they are talking thru their asses.

But that's only as far as texting and chat conversations go.
I do like real conversations.
Especially the I'm-ridiculously-high-and-uninhibitted kinda topics.
But they don't happen very often.

The problem is very basic. We have taken communication for granted.
Which is why most of what we say, or do becomes so meaningless.
Hmmm... a random thought. What would happen to the world if we were to talk only when it is absolutely necessary?

Anyway, point of post was - Pls come up with absolutely bulletproof ideas to hit on people.
Or atleast respect the fact that most of us download movies or have friends who download movies and have all seen V for Vendetta. :D
And the other point was - Go change your password every two months. You don't know who has your password! :P

* You strip down to your underwear and then converse. Something like post sex talk minus the sex.

Had Beckett been around in the internet age, he'd have written a play titled - "Waiting for Download"

I check people's blog on a regular basis. People who I know well, people i have had conversations with, people i have connected with. Even people i don't like.
I check these blogs even if there has not been any sort of activity in weeks, months.
It is almost like I look for some sort of a representation of that person online.
I think do that sometimes with facebook profiles too. For those who don't blog.
Seeing that person's blog/profile gives me the satisfaction of having met that person. I look for signs of activity, try to read the person's mindset or mood when he/she was writing the last post.
I sometimes have imaginary conversations with the blog.

And i thought all this is a little crazy.

But a little later i realised that i check my own blog every once in a while.
It gives me some sort of an assurance that i actually exist.

Talk about existential angst, huh?

Look Back in Anger

Anyone who's never watched somebody die is suffering from a pretty bad case of virginity.
.
.
.
[His good humour of a moment ago deserts him, as he begins to remember] For twelve months, I watched my father dying -- when I was ten years old. He'd come back from the war in Spain, you see. And certain god-fearing gentlemen there had made such a mess of him, he didn't have long left to live. Everyone knew it -- even I knew it. But, you see, I was the only one who cared. His family were embarrassed by the whole business. Embarrassed and irritated. As for my mother, all she could think about was the fact that she had allied herself to a man who seemed to be on the wrong side in all things. My mother was all for being associated with minorities, provided they were the smart, fashionable ones. We all of us waited for him to die. The family sent him a cheque every month, and hoped he'd get on with it quietly, without too much vulgar fuss. My mother looked after him without complaining, and that was about all. Perhaps she pitied him. I suppose she was capable of that. [with a kind of appeal in his voice] But I was the only one who cared! Every time I sat on the edge of his bed, to listen to him talking or reading to me, I had to fight back my tears. At the end of twelve months, I was a veteran. All that that feverish failure of a man had to listen to him was a small, frightened boy. I spent hour upon hour in that tiny bedroom. He would talk to me for hours, pouring out all that was left of his life to one, lonely, bewildered little boy, who could barely understand half of what he said. All he could feel was the despair and the bitterness, the sweet, sickly smell of a dying man.
.
.
.
You see, I learnt at an early age what it was to be angry -- angry and helpless. And I can never forget it. I knew more about -- love ... betrayal ... and death, when I was ten years old than you will probably every know all your life.

- Jimmy Porter, Look Back in Anger (1956) by John Osborne

I'm bored.
And tired of this failed exercise.
I'm not him.
He's not me.
We can't co-exist.
We have to merge.
Into
one
stupid
lumped
mass.
And then
it won't be fun anymore.
Do I choose fun over reality?
Sure, all the time.
Even if my elbow has to be lodged up
his ass.

"Hey, but what about me?!"
quips that tiny voice from somewhere near my
pancreas.
"shhhh!", I tell her.
"You're supposed to be a secret, remember?"
"Oh. So I don't get to
come out
anytime soon?" she wonders,
to herself.

How do I console her?
"We'll go drinking tonight, okay?"
She buys it.
I bought some time.
But
She's growing up fast.
I won't be able to
hold her down
any longer.

What do I do?

Oh Damn.
She's
supposed to be
a secret.
OK?

Random. About. Things. Me. 25.

I was tagged. I've never been tagged before. And I sort of liked the tag. So i decided to put some thought into it before i posted 25 random things about myself. I thought it made more sense to interpret 'random' not as 'first thing that comes to mind', instead as the 'randomest thoughts that actually come to mind when i spend considerable amount of time thinking about myself'.

There are about 4 and a half people who read my blog. One tagged me. So the other 3 and a half should consider themselves tagged. Go ahead, post 25 random things about yourself. Like I'm about to do now.

Here goes nothing.

1) I have a morbid fear of road accidents. I keep expecting to get crushed under a thanni lorry every goddamn time I'm on wheels.

2) I am Gult. Yes. I am Telugu. My mother tongue AND my father tongue is Telugu. This is something that most people don't seem to know about me. Even those who have known me for long. They just assume that I'm Tamil.

3) I own three pairs of boxers. Only three. Blue checks, Green checks and a multicolored one.

4) Three of my favorite topics of conversation - I can go on for hours - are Books, Movies and Comics in that order.

5) I do not believe in medicines. Or medication. Or medicine men. Seriously. I don't. This could be because in the last six years I've been to the doctor (for myself) only twice. Once to get a fake MC and on another occasion I broke a toe-nail playing football. I'd have popped in all around 6 tablets in so many years. (touch wood!)

6) I wish to relive a day of XI-A. All of us. A few years from now. Sort of a reunion. Spend the whole day in school. That would be fun.

7) I sound very different in person to when I write. Sometimes, when I read some of the stuff that I've written I wonder if it was me who wrote it in the first place. I think differently when i speak and when i write.

8) I've a very short temper. I seldom reveal it though. I usually glare or swear to myself.

9) I am a compulsive liar. I lie even when I know I don't gain any advantage in doing so. Wait, I've to rephrase that. I do not speak the truth. For example, If my dad asks me where I was, I'll usually not respond. He'll follow it up with, "were you meeting friends at the juice shop?" and I'll simply nod my head even if that was not what I was really upto. This is the same with everyone. To put it differently, I let people form their own versions of "reality".

10) I believe in astrology. And even though I keep saying things like "What is the point of living a pre-scripted life?" and "There's no such thing as destiny" and so on, I actually believe that our futures can be predicted. I also think Linda Goodman is about 85% right about people. I actually try to act/respond to a person according to their astrological signs. I'm a quintessential Cancerian. And I hate being categorized that way.

11) I like platforms. Big, wide ones. The stretch on mount road starting from thousand lights all the way up to Anna statue is one of my favourites. Especially the part opposite Spencers. There's something magical about walking slowly, taking everything in when the rest of the world rushes past in a blur.

12) I am a sucker for coming-of-age movies. There's something about "growing up" and "flirting with adolescence" and "the end of innocence" that has a magnetic pull on me. I have a strong dislike for fantasies. I'd rate Flashbacks of a Fool higher than say, Lord of the Rings.

13) I think about the absurdity of life at least once a day. It hits me at all odd times and at street corners.

14) I'm intimidated by people who go take part in cultural competitions in big gumbals. Stuff like debate, creative writing, ad-zap, whose line is it anyway?, etc. And by those "cool dude rock bands". There's something unnerving about them. You'd see them hanging around in fours and fives, rushing from one event to another, getting hyper, talking loudly, waving at people who walk past, socialising, expanding their 'horizons' etc. A clan of Hyenas usually comes to mind. Some of my close friends are very good musicians, and speakers and writers.

15) I text myself. Not stuff like "things to do". Just things that suddenly strike me. And reminders like "about time you moved on, moron!" and "Don't fall for it all over again." and "You have worms in your stomach." Also ideas and thoughts that I get from time to time. I'm writing this blog post with my mobile in my hand, going over the points I'd jotted down.

16) I don't wish to live a day beyond 50. I've a feeling I'll pop off sooner. Either way, I intend to save up enough and throw a huge death-day bash. I don't want people to be sad and sober. There'll be a special Saavu Molam (funeral drums) band rocking it out. Don't miss it. Free grub, hajjaar booze and weed are there.

17) I wish to get my parents to smoke up one day. Put on some trippy music. Or show them AFV on tv. Order food. Relax. Let go. Unwind. Trip. I want them to stop getting worked up all the bledy time and enjoy life for once. Stop nitpicking and bickering over trivial things. And it wont happen if they are sober.

18) I borrowed this one from someecards. It describes me perfectly - "I desperately crave and loathe attention."

19) I wish to conduct the Stanford Prison Experiment and Milgram's Obedience test with my friends and relatives and people I know.

20) I usually make a very bad impression on my first/second interaction with people. I have a tendency to grow on people slowly. And the people I know, I get to know them well. Like really well. Deep-dark-secrets well.

21) I keep having imaginary conversations all the time. With everyone. At all times. Even when I'm having a real conversation with the same person. But these imaginary conversations are only one on one. And I don't save the good lines to myself all the time.

22) I like coming up with conspiracy theories. I've come up with lots. The recent one involves Obama turning into a dictator and starting WW-III in 2010. India will team up with USA and emerge victorious. I'm so gonna enlist. NDA, here i come!

23) I've seen Midnight Cowboy (1969) about eight times. For Dustin Hoffman. For Jon Voight. And especially for the soundtrack.

24) I think I'll make a great whore. You know, the kinda person who accompanies rich women to parties and gives it to them at the back of the limo? That's what I wanna do for a living.

25) I wish to go see a psychiatrist soon. Just for the heck of it. Also because people who know me well think I suffer from various mental disorders. The list includes Attention Deficit disorder, Bi-polar disorder, OCD, Delusional disorder, Antisocial personality disorder, and a mild form of Dyslexia. I think i suffer from an eating disorder and poor memory. Some think I'm outright insane. I know I'm a li'l quirky. Weird, yes. Insane, No.



:-)

..!.,

The Beginning of The End

What do you mean it's the end already?

Look around. 

There are signs.

They are showing up everywhere. 

And the first chapter has begun. 

I'm a sad man today. 

Heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he's depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." Man bursts into tears. Says "But Doctor... I am Pagliacci."

- Rorschach, The Watchmen

Laurie:Ahuh. Ahuhuhuh...Jeez, y'know, that felt good. There don't seem to be that many laughs around these days.
Dan: Well, what do you expect? The Comedian is dead.

-The Watchmen

Bhenchod 2008

What a whorsht year that was! It is so unfortunate that it lasted 366 days and tortured the shit out of me. Apart from the time I spent in a state of 'highness', which happened quite often, 2008 sucked royally. I suppose I joined the wrong queue when they were handing out 'good year' cards at the end of 2007. 

Worst. Episode. Ever.

There were a lot of nominations this year for the worst incidents/events/episodes in my life. Momentary lapses of reason happened way too often and caused unpredictable damage. The first memorable event was my hard disk crash that happened in Feb. But then it came back to life early September by which time I'd gotten over the loss. Then there were the quarrels. The long silence that is yet to be broken. The shutting down of my first blog. The bastards in media milking a terrorist attack to boost their TRPs as I was unnecessarily subjected to sleeplessness because the telly was throwing bombs and bullets at me for 50 hours straight. I still don't understand two things 1) How could people glamorize and glorify terror to satisfy their benefits? 2) What the fuck is it about humans wanting to watch the horror show without batting an eyelid? Explain to me what the need is for someone sitting so far away and unrelated to the events unfolding to want to know every minute detail of it? What the fuck are you going to do with up to date information? Why do you want to watch the recaps over and over again? If you think I am a heartless asshole for not being 'bothered' about the terrorist attacks, you are a sick pervert to be so 'concerned' about it. 
Although it came close, the media's onslaught doesn't win the prize. The winning episode happened on June 21st. What should have been a happy drunken night turned into a sad, silly, horrible, sleepless one. Yaay! You won the award. Congrats. 

2000-Weirdness-8

Lots of weird-ass incidents happened all through 2008. Most of them were my own doing. But the surprise visitor I had one evening and the events that followed... whoa. Nobody else I know has got one like that.

Lots of other crazy things happened too in 2008. Women, for eample. Did you know that god originally intended to create only men? Yep, she wanted to throw a bunch of sane, sensible people onto a planet to see what they do. She wanted to watch them thrive and flourish. But she soon realised that they were way too sensible and reasonable and were progressing at a tremendous pace. They all lived in perfect harmony. In other words, they were very boring. Also she was a tad worried. At the pace at which they were figuring out things, they'd soon take over the planet and give her a run for her money. So she threw in a few women and guess what happened? Generations of men have given their lives for the cause but we are yet to figure out women. And she is sitting there, up above, having a good time, enjoying the chaos. 

Well, no doubts about it. 2008 is officially the worst year of my life. Yeah, I know I learnt a lot of life's lessons. But hey, I never signed up for it in the first place! 

Ah, it's time to say it! 

I. Never. Liked. You. 2008.

Lets see you beat that, 2009!

Bart is tied up to a lamp post naked as punishment for roller skating naked to Krusty's Burger joint as part of a dare by Homer. He is tired after getting laughed at by Nelson for a whole day. Homer finally shows up in the evening, refuses to take the rap for him and forgets to bring his pants.
Bart: This is the worst day of my life!
Homer: The worst day of your life "so far"!

- The Simpsons Movie

"I believe, that whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you... 
Stranger"

- The Joker, The Dark Knight (2008)