To....
http://wabbster.wordpress.com
Amen.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Chronicles of the Thunderful Bird! - 1
He was an average Tamilian, on a Karnataka registered bike, with a learner’s license from Mumbai. The thought of it made him smile. He turned the odometer knob to make it read ‘000’ as his father yakked away instructions – a list of dos and don’ts, one might call it. He kick-started the bike to life and the ‘Bird obligingly thundered.
“Call me every hour”, his fathered muttered amidst the thumping of the bike.
“Every hour? How about I call you every time I stop for a smoke?”
“Don’t smoke a lot.”
“Then don’t expect a lot of calls.”
A quick wave and he was off. His first bike trip since he moved to Mumbai.
---
There isn’t a lot that I expect when I do road trips. It is my expression of freedom. Freedom from home, from work, from, well, life! This was my sixth road trip and my fifth alone. I don’t mind riding alone, in fact, I enjoy it. I relish the lack of additional responsibility a pillion brings. I love the fact that I can think of a song during the ride and head-bang to it without having to make anyone uncomfortable.
---
Sunrise on the highway is a biker’s dream, he was told once. He, on the other hand, found it rather unnerving. The visor was dirty and cracked in a few places. He cursed himself for not having it changed before he started. But then, it was typical of him to ignore the minor details. He was not too fussy about preparations. All he needed were three things, his ‘Bird in good running condition, fuel and a destination.
Life was a road trip, he concluded. Different folks, different strokes and different gears! Some like to plan it, some people don’t. Some people actually put their plans to work whereas some take things as they come. He believed he was more like the latter.
---
I didn’t know the way to Nashik. All I had was a ‘fair idea’. That’s cowshit talk for not having a clue.
Borivali to Thane. Thane to Nashik. That was the plan.
The first fifty kilometers were slow, mostly because I didn’t know the route. The first thirty kilometers included a lot of stopping and asking for directions. There were only two turns, one to Thane and the other to Nashik. I was on the right track.
---
A hundred kilometers in ninety minutes. The biting chill threatened to ruin the exhilaration but a well timed cigarette break kept the excitement levels up.
A quick sms session followed by a call to his mother ensued during the cigarette break. It was cold and he had completely forgotten to take into account the fact that he was going to a colder city.
But where there is a Wills, there is a way, he thought and took another long drag off his cigarette.
---
In no time, I was in the middle of Igatpuri. The beauty of the place has to be seen to be believed. The mountainous roads give you the illusion of being dangerous but they are pretty harmless, unless you start gawking at the scenery while on the bike (which I did). Oh well, the oncoming truck had pretty effective horns, so, in a way, I was saved by a horny truck driver.
I stopped for my second break about fifteen kilometers from Nashik. A quick sms to A about logistics followed.
---
Taj Hotel, she told him. He was still ten kilometers from there. Time for a smoke and this time it was at a Mallu tea shop. He was amazed at the fact that he could find one here, but it made him feel at home for some reason.
---
A few minutes later, I was in Nashik. The 'Bird drew a well received 'oooh' from A and a few moments later, we were at A's place...
Two days of awesome fun. Double breakfasts, beer at 4:30 pm, roaming around the streets of Nashik with no helmet on, shopping for trousers at Big Bazaar, dinner with A's folks, a photo session the following morning and off to Mumbai.
---
The return was less eventful. A traffic jam in the middle of the hilly Igatpuri and Thane meant his return journey would take him an hour longer.
As the 'Bird turned left on the Link Road towards Gorai, he had a big smile on his face. A mental checklist was being ticked off – road trip, check; to Nashik, check; meet A, check; kick some ass on the highway, check; plan next road trip...
Well, that could wait for a while, he thought. And he had a feeling he wouldn't be alone then.
Amen.
“Call me every hour”, his fathered muttered amidst the thumping of the bike.
“Every hour? How about I call you every time I stop for a smoke?”
“Don’t smoke a lot.”
“Then don’t expect a lot of calls.”
A quick wave and he was off. His first bike trip since he moved to Mumbai.
---
There isn’t a lot that I expect when I do road trips. It is my expression of freedom. Freedom from home, from work, from, well, life! This was my sixth road trip and my fifth alone. I don’t mind riding alone, in fact, I enjoy it. I relish the lack of additional responsibility a pillion brings. I love the fact that I can think of a song during the ride and head-bang to it without having to make anyone uncomfortable.
---
Sunrise on the highway is a biker’s dream, he was told once. He, on the other hand, found it rather unnerving. The visor was dirty and cracked in a few places. He cursed himself for not having it changed before he started. But then, it was typical of him to ignore the minor details. He was not too fussy about preparations. All he needed were three things, his ‘Bird in good running condition, fuel and a destination.
Life was a road trip, he concluded. Different folks, different strokes and different gears! Some like to plan it, some people don’t. Some people actually put their plans to work whereas some take things as they come. He believed he was more like the latter.
---
I didn’t know the way to Nashik. All I had was a ‘fair idea’. That’s cowshit talk for not having a clue.
Borivali to Thane. Thane to Nashik. That was the plan.
The first fifty kilometers were slow, mostly because I didn’t know the route. The first thirty kilometers included a lot of stopping and asking for directions. There were only two turns, one to Thane and the other to Nashik. I was on the right track.
---
A hundred kilometers in ninety minutes. The biting chill threatened to ruin the exhilaration but a well timed cigarette break kept the excitement levels up.
A quick sms session followed by a call to his mother ensued during the cigarette break. It was cold and he had completely forgotten to take into account the fact that he was going to a colder city.
But where there is a Wills, there is a way, he thought and took another long drag off his cigarette.
---
In no time, I was in the middle of Igatpuri. The beauty of the place has to be seen to be believed. The mountainous roads give you the illusion of being dangerous but they are pretty harmless, unless you start gawking at the scenery while on the bike (which I did). Oh well, the oncoming truck had pretty effective horns, so, in a way, I was saved by a horny truck driver.
I stopped for my second break about fifteen kilometers from Nashik. A quick sms to A about logistics followed.
---
Taj Hotel, she told him. He was still ten kilometers from there. Time for a smoke and this time it was at a Mallu tea shop. He was amazed at the fact that he could find one here, but it made him feel at home for some reason.
---
A few minutes later, I was in Nashik. The 'Bird drew a well received 'oooh' from A and a few moments later, we were at A's place...
Two days of awesome fun. Double breakfasts, beer at 4:30 pm, roaming around the streets of Nashik with no helmet on, shopping for trousers at Big Bazaar, dinner with A's folks, a photo session the following morning and off to Mumbai.
---
The return was less eventful. A traffic jam in the middle of the hilly Igatpuri and Thane meant his return journey would take him an hour longer.
As the 'Bird turned left on the Link Road towards Gorai, he had a big smile on his face. A mental checklist was being ticked off – road trip, check; to Nashik, check; meet A, check; kick some ass on the highway, check; plan next road trip...
Well, that could wait for a while, he thought. And he had a feeling he wouldn't be alone then.
Amen.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Indian Idiots - III (Indian? Racist!)
You can also read:
Indian Idiots - I (patriotism guaranteed, conditions apply)
Indian Idiots - II (People and Eating Outlets - Bad Combo)
Or.... You can just go ahead and read on!
Indian Idiots - I (patriotism guaranteed, conditions apply)
Indian Idiots - II (People and Eating Outlets - Bad Combo)
Or.... You can just go ahead and read on!
---
Pseudo people – they piss you off, don’t they? Pseudo-secularists, pseudo-politicians, pseudo-evangelists, pseudo-friends, pseudo-feminists – the list goes on and on, the length and breadth of human hypocrisy, endless.
What irritated me most about the recent events in Australia, involving the Indian and Australian cricket teams, is precisely this hypocrisy – this presumption that we, Indians, are an angelic set of people, who have been oppressed for eons and that that is the only thing that separates ‘us from them’.
First, the whole ‘us’ concept is the very start of segregation. Racial, national, or international, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is, when you say ‘us’, you’re automatically saying there’s a ‘them’ and that they’re ‘different’.
Second, aren’t Indians racist too? Okay, agreed that we faced all that discrimination from the firangs and all that, but even when we were being discriminated against, didn’t we come up with the caste system? Didn’t my ancestors say that they’d become impure if they came in contact with a shudra’s shadow? Didn’t they monopolize learning, power and all the opportunities? Okay, this was in the past. So, it really shouldn’t matter now. Let’s talk about what’s happening now. A few examples here and there and I’ll prove that you and I – and most Indians – are, in fact, racist bigots.
- When you laugh at a Sardar joke, you’re a racist.
- When you imitate a Mallu accent, you’re a racist.
- When you call all South Indians “Madrasi”, you’re a racist.
- Here’s a riddle – Why won’t you find a Raymond showroom in Pakistan? – Because there aren’t any complete men there. Funny? You’re a racist.
- When you call Telugu people “Goltis”, you’re a racist.
- When you call Malayalees “Mallus”, you’re a racist.
- When you call Tamilians “Katpadi” and/or “Kongas”, you’re a racist.
- When you call anyone from North East India / East Asia “Chinkis”, you’re a racist.
- When you call Bengalis “Bongs”, you’re a racist.
- When you’re looking for a fair bride/groom in your matrimonial, you’re a racist
(list incomplete)
We are racists. So, don’t go around acting hurt when someone calls you one, you hypocrites. And just because you got caught being one, don’t make a big fuss. Apologise and get it over with.
Oh and a happy new year to you!
Amen.
We are racists. So, don’t go around acting hurt when someone calls you one, you hypocrites. And just because you got caught being one, don’t make a big fuss. Apologise and get it over with.
Oh and a happy new year to you!
Amen.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Changes...
One of the many things that I enjoyed in Bangalore was the fact that I could start my bike any time I wanted and go anywhere I wished. Mysore, Chennai or even Hampi! That’s certainly the best of the many good things about living alone, I guess.
But now, now that I’m in Mumbai, living with the family, the small things that I’d been taking for granted has become a rarity in terms of occurrence.
Like smoking, for example. In Bangalore, I could smoke wherever, without fear (of getting caught and/or being lectured by someone) and without any guilt. And it’s very easy to get into that sort of a routine, harmful as it may be.
Now, I have to sneak out of my house, get to the terrace, look around if the coast is clear, light one up, look around some more, and in between the looking around, take a few precious drags of the nicotine-filled carcinogen. And I’d never be able to finish an entire cigarette. By the time I finish half of it, I realise it’s not worth all the trouble. The cigarette has stopped ‘helping’. Couple that with the fact that I have to sneak back into my own house like a thief and rushing to the bathroom before anyone breathes and smells my deed, the guilt trip just makes the smoking totally not worth it.
When I’m at work, however, between bouts of jobless Wikipedia-ing (and sometimes, more recently, working), I manage to slip out for a smoke. This gives me the best pleasure. A coffee and a sutta – the best bloody combination. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s the cigarette I enjoy or the lack of guilt that I’ve come to associate with it these days.
So many other things have changed now. For example, I’m sharing a room with my brother. What’s even weirder is the fact that I’m not protesting. I’ve come to accept it as a phase. My brother, I’ll be fair now, is a pretty bearable roomy and he does respect my need to be left alone every now and then.
A lot of things annoy me, still. In Bangalore, I was so used to enter an empty house, devoid of any human presence that every sound now has become an irritant. I wake up with a start every time the maid turns the fan off. I wake up again when she turns it back on. The constant yammering of my mother annoys me and my dad’s racist utterings (still) piss me off.
But its home and I love it. I love it for its quirks and I love it because it’s the only thing that’s mine. I love my parents because they love me for no apparent reason. I love the nag in my mother and I love the snags in my dad! I love my sibling now and it’s not just because he’s my brother.
I don’t have a lot of friends in this city now, I don’t have a girlfriend now and I don’t think I’m enjoying my work a lot, but I am not distressed. Its life and I love it for some reason. Everyday in this city looks like an adventure although it’s routine!
But you know what the best part about being home is? BED COFFEE!
Amen.
Amen.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Moved!
The blog hasn't moved. I have. To Mumbai.
Special thanks to:
1. Everyone at work: For throwing me an awesome 'get the fuck outta here' party.
2. Shireen and Rabin: For coming down from Chennai to see me off.
3. The Crapper: For all the beer and conversation I barely remember (blame it on the beer!).
4. The rest: For calling/messaging their goodbyes.
5. Uncle Mike: For being an amazing boss/mentor/friend throughout my stay at Infy BPO - Deutsche Bank.
Amen.
Special thanks to:
1. Everyone at work: For throwing me an awesome 'get the fuck outta here' party.
2. Shireen and Rabin: For coming down from Chennai to see me off.
3. The Crapper: For all the beer and conversation I barely remember (blame it on the beer!).
4. The rest: For calling/messaging their goodbyes.
5. Uncle Mike: For being an amazing boss/mentor/friend throughout my stay at Infy BPO - Deutsche Bank.
Amen.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Conversations...
Parul: hehe.. and the movie is short and has an impact
me: Hrm. That's what I say about porn.
Parul: oh god!!
Amen!
me: Hrm. That's what I say about porn.
Parul: oh god!!
Amen!
Friday, October 19, 2007
Of work and optimised shit.
Oh well... A fart post now.
This happened to me a few months ago.
We were called for a meeting at work, or a huddle as it is called, one day. As was the tradition then, I was in-charge of keeping the minutes of the meeting, no wait, huddle.
Anyways, I was furiously doodling on a piece of paper as my manager was discussing (well, calling it a discussion would be pushing it since he was the only one talking) things I don't remember now.
I had had a potato-cheese sandwich and (very) cold buttermilk for brunchinner (breakfast/lunch/dinner for the uninitiated). Because I used to have just one meal a day, there was, well, this problem of gas. And the fact that I had potatoes did not help matters either.
Well, I'm sure you'd have guessed by now what happened during the meeting.
I let one rip.
The manager stopped talking, everyone there shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Oh well.. it did not end there.
I now realised I had to say something. An apology perhaps? Ooh, I could also add that I have a chronic problem, you know just an almost preemptive apology for all future farts in the office?
But no, I had to say something stupid. As usual.
I looked around and spoke. Very slowly.
"So, do you want me to add this onto the minutes of the meeting?"
Oh well...
Amen.
This happened to me a few months ago.
We were called for a meeting at work, or a huddle as it is called, one day. As was the tradition then, I was in-charge of keeping the minutes of the meeting, no wait, huddle.
Anyways, I was furiously doodling on a piece of paper as my manager was discussing (well, calling it a discussion would be pushing it since he was the only one talking) things I don't remember now.
I had had a potato-cheese sandwich and (very) cold buttermilk for brunchinner (breakfast/lunch/dinner for the uninitiated). Because I used to have just one meal a day, there was, well, this problem of gas. And the fact that I had potatoes did not help matters either.
Well, I'm sure you'd have guessed by now what happened during the meeting.
I let one rip.
The manager stopped talking, everyone there shifted in their seats uncomfortably. Oh well.. it did not end there.
I now realised I had to say something. An apology perhaps? Ooh, I could also add that I have a chronic problem, you know just an almost preemptive apology for all future farts in the office?
But no, I had to say something stupid. As usual.
I looked around and spoke. Very slowly.
"So, do you want me to add this onto the minutes of the meeting?"
Oh well...
Amen.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
A shitty conversation
Edit: Before you read this, read... this
Nikhil: Now I really know you are jealous. HA HA HA!
16:06 ahem. ok.
so whadelseizup?
me: Nothing at all men. Same shit, even on weekends sometimes. :
16:07 Nikhil: gosh. same shit can happen only if you eat your own shit.
hmmmmmmmmmmm.....
me: Erm.
Not really.
16:08 Same shit happens only if you eat the same thing everyday.
Nikhil: well, that'd be SIMILAR shit then, not SAME
me: Because if you eat something you shit, then it becomes less... shitty.. You know, it changes composition while getting digested.
Probably.
16:09 Nikhil: probably not... shit is shit that cannot/has not been digested.
and for some shitty reason your body decides to assimilate some of it, the rest of it is going to come out exactly the same
me: Not the same...
Similar, perhaps.
Nikhil: maybe some additions, but the same shit's going to be in there anyway.
me: :D
16:10 We should be able to prove it.
Here's a thought.
If you ate my shit and took a dump, would it be me shitting through you?
Nikhil: proceed.
16:11 no, it would be Me shitting your shit.
me: Hrm.
Nikhil: and I'm gonna let that remain just a thought.
me: You'll be like my.. surrogate shitter.
Nikhil: no macha... you got the whole concept of surrogacy(?) wrong.
16:12 me: Okay...
Nikhil: if i ate your shit.... that means You have already taken a dump.
me: Ah, yes....
Nikhil: that means you are already capable of dumping
me: So, if you stole my lunch and ate it.
And THEN took a dump.
Nikhil: EGJJACTLY!
me: You'll be a surrogate then?
Nikhil: you got the point now.
me: Ohkkeeey...
16:13 Nikhil: That, I am willing to do. :) steal your lunch, that is.
me: Okay, just look at food this way then....
It is unprocessed shit.
Nikhil: looked at it that way for a loooong time.
16:14 me: Bon Apetit?
Nikhil: so your lame attempt at crapping me out hasn't worked :D
me: Hrm.
Nikhil: so, shit is processed food?
HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!
nize!
what about Bon Apetit NOW??
me: Heh.
16:15 Shit cannot be processed food.
Nikhil: you go to a grocery store and you see a can of "processed food" you know what you are buying
me: Erm, no wait.
Nikhil: in the same light, food cannot be unprocessed shit.
:D
me: Yeah, you're right.
Nikhil: All hail me.
\m/\m/\m/
me: Hale you.
Kannada version.
16:16 Nikhil: egjactly.
me: :)
I had paneer mattar today.
Expecting polka dotted shit tomorrow. :D
---
Need I say more?
Nikhil: Now I really know you are jealous. HA HA HA!
16:06 ahem. ok.
so whadelseizup?
me: Nothing at all men. Same shit, even on weekends sometimes. :
16:07 Nikhil: gosh. same shit can happen only if you eat your own shit.
hmmmmmmmmmmm.....
me: Erm.
Not really.
16:08 Same shit happens only if you eat the same thing everyday.
Nikhil: well, that'd be SIMILAR shit then, not SAME
me: Because if you eat something you shit, then it becomes less... shitty.. You know, it changes composition while getting digested.
Probably.
16:09 Nikhil: probably not... shit is shit that cannot/has not been digested.
and for some shitty reason your body decides to assimilate some of it, the rest of it is going to come out exactly the same
me: Not the same...
Similar, perhaps.
Nikhil: maybe some additions, but the same shit's going to be in there anyway.
me: :D
16:10 We should be able to prove it.
Here's a thought.
If you ate my shit and took a dump, would it be me shitting through you?
Nikhil: proceed.
16:11 no, it would be Me shitting your shit.
me: Hrm.
Nikhil: and I'm gonna let that remain just a thought.
me: You'll be like my.. surrogate shitter.
Nikhil: no macha... you got the whole concept of surrogacy(?) wrong.
16:12 me: Okay...
Nikhil: if i ate your shit.... that means You have already taken a dump.
me: Ah, yes....
Nikhil: that means you are already capable of dumping
me: So, if you stole my lunch and ate it.
And THEN took a dump.
Nikhil: EGJJACTLY!
me: You'll be a surrogate then?
Nikhil: you got the point now.
me: Ohkkeeey...
16:13 Nikhil: That, I am willing to do. :) steal your lunch, that is.
me: Okay, just look at food this way then....
It is unprocessed shit.
Nikhil: looked at it that way for a loooong time.
16:14 me: Bon Apetit?
Nikhil: so your lame attempt at crapping me out hasn't worked :D
me: Hrm.
Nikhil: so, shit is processed food?
HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!
nize!
what about Bon Apetit NOW??
me: Heh.
16:15 Shit cannot be processed food.
Nikhil: you go to a grocery store and you see a can of "processed food" you know what you are buying
me: Erm, no wait.
Nikhil: in the same light, food cannot be unprocessed shit.
:D
me: Yeah, you're right.
Nikhil: All hail me.
\m/\m/\m/
me: Hale you.
Kannada version.
16:16 Nikhil: egjactly.
me: :)
I had paneer mattar today.
Expecting polka dotted shit tomorrow. :D
---
Need I say more?
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
The Royal Ramble
It’s been exactly two years since I joined Progeon (or Infosys BPO as it is called now).
No yippees and no hoorahs. It’s just another day in the office and yet, I try hard to remember how it was to enter the building for the first time two years ago. And how things have changed since then.
No yippees and no hoorahs. It’s just another day in the office and yet, I try hard to remember how it was to enter the building for the first time two years ago. And how things have changed since then.
“Eager young minds”.
The mind is young, still, yes. But, eager? That’s a tricky one.
---
I have been a lazy fellow, haven’t I? I haven’t blogged in ages and frankly, I haven’t done much in ages.
I have been working though. The nonsensical meandering has been replaced with something more nonsensical I figure (a little too late for that now!). Work. That’s all I have been up to.
I tell my parents and close friends that I’m working hard for a promotion. My colleagues, well, they all probably think I’m just kissing ass for a promotion. I don’t know what I want, but I know a promotion isn’t something that would motivate me to such madness.
A loner. That’s what I have become. I live alone, nay, I just, am, alone. And for me to realize this, all it took was an accident.
A cyclist turning right without any hand signal had a fresh lease of life thanks to the disc brakes on the ‘bird. Of course, the bike skid and fell on the side of the road and I ended up with scratches all over my body.
Now, when you’re alone, nobody is a phone call away. And that was how it was that day. After the doctor visits and the bandages wrapped on me, guess how many people were there to see if I was okay? None.
My Orkut friend list is about 125 names long. I have 31 fans. I’m not implying anything here, these are just stats.
---
Depression. So, this is how it feels…
---
I miss my mother at times like these. I also realize how insanely selfish I am to miss her only when I’m depressed. Did I miss her when I did my first bike trip? Did I miss her when I got my raise? Did I miss her when I bought my first TV?
Oh well, nobody’s perfect.
---
I think I’ve become too accustomed to my way of life. I’ve become too used to being alone. And I know I’m going to end up alone with a bunch of pets that’d keep dying on me and I know I’d be watching reruns of some sitcom or the other till the day I die.
I also seem to have failed to differentiate between friends and acquaintances. And when I did, my friends disappeared.
---
I walk alone, I walk alone.
Amen.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
A question...
Do cannibals eat diabetics for dessert?
---
Oh well, more to come soon. Sorry I've been away.
NOT!
Amen.
---
Oh well, more to come soon. Sorry I've been away.
NOT!
Amen.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
While I was /away.
Shitloads of things happened.
One, that Woolmer dude was killed.
Two, the Pakistanis crashed out of the World Cup.
Three, the Indians crashed out of the World Cup.
Four, oops I farted again.
Now, number three. The Indians – lost to
So, long story short, the Indian team is fucked.
There was this interview on TV last night that caught my attention. Sharad Pawar, the BCCI President, saying there was a need for two teams (I think they’re going to be called “Seniors” and “Blues”) so as to have a ‘healthy reserve’ of backup players, in case the need arises.
That, well, got me thinking.
Here’s my suggestion that would make the BCCI richer and
Have one team for every opposition.
Have a team that would play -only- against
To ‘tackle’ the minnow teams like
I will tell you why this is an amazing idea.
Our country’s population - over a billion. No statistics involved, but I’m guessing more than half of them are cricket crazy. Almost every other guy wants to be a cricketer. By having these opponent specific teams, you’re giving everybody an opportunity to play the game for the country.
Money. The BCCI will get bucketfuls of money. Imagine the amount of money it is making with this current team. And now, imagine the same amount multiplied by the number of ‘
Advertisers will not lose money because some Indian team will be playing somewhere all the time. They’ll probably fight over ad rights for a number of matches and not just one or two.
The cricket fan will never get bored. Every channel will have some cricket match and he’ll be assured that one side is always an Indian side.
Hm, let’s see,
*change channel*
Ooh, Amul Pakodikar just hit a century against the
Fun fun fun.
This has to be the singlemost awe inspiring idea that the BCCI can actually implement. Yeah, yeah, laugh at me now, but you know you’re going to root for the India SE team when they play the
Friday, February 23, 2007
This blog is... not dead.
But will be dormant.
For a while.
Need time.
Need thoughts.
Need.. freshness.
Till then,
Amen.
For a while.
Need time.
Need thoughts.
Need.. freshness.
Till then,
Amen.
Monday, January 15, 2007
IRC is awesome...
Back on IRC. It is fun. Here's why...
¦ 19:17.37 +mallupower : lol kundi isnt registered
¦ 19:17.39 * mallupower is now known as kundi
¦ 19:17.42 * kundi is now known as mallukundi
¦ 19:17.43 +mallukundi : LOL
¦ 19:17.46 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:17.48 +mallukundi : oh crap
¦ 19:17.48 +mallukundi : lol
¦ 19:17.51 +mallukundi : got banned from india
¦ 19:17.55 +Wabbster : Hahaha
¦ 19:18.00 +mallukundi : hahaha
¦ 19:18.08 * mallukundi is now known as kundi
¦ 19:18.20 +EmAcS : mallukundi: hmm
¦ 19:18.24 +kundi : haha
¦ 19:18.25 +kundi : want some?
¦ 19:18.32 +EmAcS : what
¦ 19:18.34 +Wabbster : Come get some. :p
¦ 19:18.35 +kundi : its got some putte on it
¦ 19:18.36 +kundi : :P
¦ 19:18.37 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:19.07 +Wabbster : "Dude, this is nuts.." "No, this is buns"!
¦ 19:19.10 +kundi : and therefore i've done the iompossible
¦ 19:19.12 +kundi : The nickname kundi has been temporarily registered to you....
¦ 19:19.16 +kundi : yeeeeeeeeee hawww
¦ 19:19.16 +Wabbster : ROFL.
¦ 19:19.25 +Wabbster : Type /me farts. :D
¦ 19:19.28 +Wabbster : Please?!
¦ 19:19.29 +kundi : lol 2nd ban placed
¦ 19:19.34 +kundi : 2 more channels left
¦ 19:19.38 * +kundi farts
¦ 19:19.39 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:19.40 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:19.41 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:19.43 Tushar : lol'
¦ 19:19.56 +kundi : Tushar: want some kundi for valentine's?
¦ 19:19.56 +kundi : :P
¦ 19:20.09 +kundi : god i feel like trolling
¦ 19:20.10 Tushar : :-)
¦ 19:20.18 +EmAcS : kundi: bad nick
¦ 19:20.22 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:20.26 +kundi : EmAcS: loosen up
¦ 19:20.34 +Wabbster : Loosen up and let go! :D
¦ 19:20.38 +kundi : now now tell me you dont want a kundi, dont like one?
¦ 19:20.39 +kundi : :D¦ 19:20.45 +EmAcS : kundi: enuf!
¦ 19:20.47 +kundi : yesh let go
¦ 19:20.53 +Wabbster : Don't think like a kundi. :P
¦ 19:20.58 +kundi : haha¦
19:21.05 +kundi : now that i have this nick i have the right to
¦ 19:21.16 +kundi : and the usual line " dont think outta your arse" is going to be so invalid
¦ 19:21.41 +Wabbster : And we don't have to type the whole thing. Ku+(tab):D
¦ 19:21.53 +kundi : haha
¦ 19:21.58 +kundi : more ideas!
¦ 19:22.06 +kundi : put a kundi in a room and look at the ideas flowing
¦ 19:22.09 * +kundi floats~
¦ 19:22.13 +Wabbster : Hahaha
¦ 19:22.14 +Wabbster : FOTCL
¦ 19:22.59 +Wabbster : Make indicators and call them kundicators :P
¦ 19:23.04 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:23.19 +kundi : now that its registered i can settle for monochrome
¦ 19:23.21 * kundi is now known as monochrome
¦ 19:23.27 +Wabbster : Phew. Wb.
¦ 19:23.35 +Wabbster : monochrome, guess who was here!
¦ 19:23.40 +Wabbster : Kundi!:D
¦ 19:23.51 +monochrome : argh man sinus!
¦ 19:23.53 +monochrome : still pains
¦<¦ Parts #Bangalore : abinitio (elation@72.20.44.77) ()
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : ce_cuTe_^ (~hancheoet@125.163.84.132)
¦<¦ Parts #bangalore : monochrome (~calm@83.110.125.209) ()
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : monochrome (~calm@83.110.125.209)
¦ 19:24.55 * Quits: ce_cuTe_^ (~hancheoet@125.163.84.132) (Quit: )
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : pooo (~cherrry@125.22.62.45)
¦ 19:25.37 +Wabbster : Ah, yeah.
¦ 19:25.41 +Wabbster : pooo?
¦ 19:25.50 +Wabbster : First kundi, now pooo?
¦ 19:25.56 monochrome : haha
¦ 19:26.00 monochrome : lool
¦ 19:26.11 monochrome : talk of coincedence
¦ 19:26.15 +Wabbster : I know!
¦ 19:26.15 monochrome : this is an irc moment of glory
¦ 19:26.24 +Wabbster : I'm posting this on my blog!
And so, here it is.
IRC... is awesome!
Amen
¦ 19:17.37 +mallupower : lol kundi isnt registered
¦ 19:17.39 * mallupower is now known as kundi
¦ 19:17.42 * kundi is now known as mallukundi
¦ 19:17.43 +mallukundi : LOL
¦ 19:17.46 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:17.48 +mallukundi : oh crap
¦ 19:17.48 +mallukundi : lol
¦ 19:17.51 +mallukundi : got banned from india
¦ 19:17.55 +Wabbster : Hahaha
¦ 19:18.00 +mallukundi : hahaha
¦ 19:18.08 * mallukundi is now known as kundi
¦ 19:18.20 +EmAcS : mallukundi: hmm
¦ 19:18.24 +kundi : haha
¦ 19:18.25 +kundi : want some?
¦ 19:18.32 +EmAcS : what
¦ 19:18.34 +Wabbster : Come get some. :p
¦ 19:18.35 +kundi : its got some putte on it
¦ 19:18.36 +kundi : :P
¦ 19:18.37 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:19.07 +Wabbster : "Dude, this is nuts.." "No, this is buns"!
¦ 19:19.10 +kundi : and therefore i've done the iompossible
¦ 19:19.12 +kundi : The nickname kundi has been temporarily registered to you....
¦ 19:19.16 +kundi : yeeeeeeeeee hawww
¦ 19:19.16 +Wabbster : ROFL.
¦ 19:19.25 +Wabbster : Type /me farts. :D
¦ 19:19.28 +Wabbster : Please?!
¦ 19:19.29 +kundi : lol 2nd ban placed
¦ 19:19.34 +kundi : 2 more channels left
¦ 19:19.38 * +kundi farts
¦ 19:19.39 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:19.40 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:19.41 +Wabbster : ROFL!
¦ 19:19.43 Tushar : lol'
¦ 19:19.56 +kundi : Tushar: want some kundi for valentine's?
¦ 19:19.56 +kundi : :P
¦ 19:20.09 +kundi : god i feel like trolling
¦ 19:20.10 Tushar : :-)
¦ 19:20.18 +EmAcS : kundi: bad nick
¦ 19:20.22 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:20.26 +kundi : EmAcS: loosen up
¦ 19:20.34 +Wabbster : Loosen up and let go! :D
¦ 19:20.38 +kundi : now now tell me you dont want a kundi, dont like one?
¦ 19:20.39 +kundi : :D¦ 19:20.45 +EmAcS : kundi: enuf!
¦ 19:20.47 +kundi : yesh let go
¦ 19:20.53 +Wabbster : Don't think like a kundi. :P
¦ 19:20.58 +kundi : haha¦
19:21.05 +kundi : now that i have this nick i have the right to
¦ 19:21.16 +kundi : and the usual line " dont think outta your arse" is going to be so invalid
¦ 19:21.41 +Wabbster : And we don't have to type the whole thing. Ku+(tab)
¦ 19:21.53 +kundi : haha
¦ 19:21.58 +kundi : more ideas!
¦ 19:22.06 +kundi : put a kundi in a room and look at the ideas flowing
¦ 19:22.09 * +kundi floats~
¦ 19:22.13 +Wabbster : Hahaha
¦ 19:22.14 +Wabbster : FOTCL
¦ 19:22.59 +Wabbster : Make indicators and call them kundicators :P
¦ 19:23.04 +kundi : lol
¦ 19:23.19 +kundi : now that its registered i can settle for monochrome
¦ 19:23.21 * kundi is now known as monochrome
¦ 19:23.27 +Wabbster : Phew. Wb.
¦ 19:23.35 +Wabbster : monochrome, guess who was here!
¦ 19:23.40 +Wabbster : Kundi!:D
¦ 19:23.51 +monochrome : argh man sinus!
¦ 19:23.53 +monochrome : still pains
¦<¦ Parts #Bangalore : abinitio (elation@72.20.44.77) ()
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : ce_cuTe_^ (~hancheoet@125.163.84.132)
¦<¦ Parts #bangalore : monochrome (~calm@83.110.125.209) ()
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : monochrome (~calm@83.110.125.209)
¦ 19:24.55 * Quits: ce_cuTe_^ (~hancheoet@125.163.84.132) (Quit: )
¦>¦ Joins #bangalore : pooo (~cherrry@125.22.62.45)
¦ 19:25.37 +Wabbster : Ah, yeah.
¦ 19:25.41 +Wabbster : pooo?
¦ 19:25.50 +Wabbster : First kundi, now pooo?
¦ 19:25.56 monochrome : haha
¦ 19:26.00 monochrome : lool
¦ 19:26.11 monochrome : talk of coincedence
¦ 19:26.15 +Wabbster : I know!
¦ 19:26.15 monochrome : this is an irc moment of glory
¦ 19:26.24 +Wabbster : I'm posting this on my blog!
And so, here it is.
IRC... is awesome!
Amen
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Random crap, again.
Call it nature's way of rubbing it in, but for the past one week whenever I turn on National Geographic, Discovery or Animal Planet, all I see is lions having sex. Not any other animal, but lions.
It's a completely different thing when I actually stop the browsing and watch the entire.. show...
---
What would the antonym of badminton be? Goodminton?
If I was good at badminton, would I be bad at goodminton?
And vice versa?
Would shuttle cock become grounded hen?
Or, if I'm thinking dirty, would it be grounded pussy?
---
Smoking has reduced to 10 cigarettes a day. It is less during weekends, because I'm sleeping most of the time!
---
I am writing a bio-data for myself.
I get stuck at the 'aim/objective' part.
Needless to say, only 0.2 % of the bio-data is complete.
---
I just realised why I don't have a lot of Iron Maiden songs.
I don't like Iron Maiden.
---
A blog update, just for the heck of it.
Don't we all do it?!
No?
Okay, so, it's just me then.
Amen.
It's a completely different thing when I actually stop the browsing and watch the entire.. show...
---
What would the antonym of badminton be? Goodminton?
If I was good at badminton, would I be bad at goodminton?
And vice versa?
Would shuttle cock become grounded hen?
Or, if I'm thinking dirty, would it be grounded pussy?
---
Smoking has reduced to 10 cigarettes a day. It is less during weekends, because I'm sleeping most of the time!
---
I am writing a bio-data for myself.
I get stuck at the 'aim/objective' part.
Needless to say, only 0.2 % of the bio-data is complete.
---
I just realised why I don't have a lot of Iron Maiden songs.
I don't like Iron Maiden.
---
A blog update, just for the heck of it.
Don't we all do it?!
No?
Okay, so, it's just me then.
Amen.
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