Walls Of Love

resilienceRight. So, the retards decide to throw a whole country in disarray and kill people indiscriminately. They enter a crowded city like Mumbai and take control of a few places, take hostages, shoot into the crowd, killing innocent people, lob hand grenades into crowds and hotel rooms and feel all macho because they feel like God.

What the retards don’t know and probably didn’t even realize that a country like India hasn’t survived for so long through luck – the people here are immensely strong and we can withstand anything dished out to us.

It’s sad that we’ve been on the wrong end of the gun for a while now, with these retards resorting to bombs in different cities and now, guns and grenades, but what is still unshakeable is our faith in a terror-free world.

My heartfelt condolences to all those affected by this retarded attack in Mumbai. Life has been thrown out of gear throughout the country, with everyone with access to a TV, radio or internet logged on to breaking news at this hour. Every single citizen of the country is praying that madness gets over before there’s any more loss of life. [Those who do not have access to a TV can go to this site for live streaming news.]

You fucking retards – you think your bullets and bombs and hatred can affect us? You think you can scare us into hiding? You really believe that you can even being to understand the meaning of ‘Love’ and “Unity’ and ‘Strength’ and “Solidarity’? The only difference between these so-called terrorists and retards in a mental asylum is the wall separating them. We build our walls from love, not stones.

The Hazards Of A Public Relations Occupation

funny_choking_hazardAnd I thought working in a coal mine in Siberia was dangerous. Public Relations is a field which only the brave pursue and only those with a casual disregard for personal safety excel in.

When I signed on for a career in Public Relations, I knew it would involve daily death threats from irate clients and journalists (For example, there’s this homosexual client called Mr. B, who’s sleeping with the bisexual editor of a popular national newspaper and I’m not supposed to tell this out to anyone), but I didn’t expect bodily harm.

Yesterday was a gloomy Tuesday, with dark clouds threatening to douse the city and a cold wind that seemed never-ending. I arrived a bit late than usual, courtesy dirty traffic and a full bladder, and went about my work with the right mix of boredom and enthusiasm. It was somewhere around two in the afternoon when I realized just how dangerous my line of work is.

I was sitting at my desk, reading an online news release, when I dropped my pen on the floor. As I bent to pick it up, the chair I was sitting on creaked a bit. I didn’t give it much thought as it always creaked. Just as my fingertips touched the floor, I heard a deafening crack and the damn chair snapped in three! I fell down on the floor quite awkwardly, with a heavy thud. The entire office was silent and I lay there, dazed, wondering what in the hell happened.

Slowly, people realized something was wrong and crowded around my cubicle and helped me to my feet and made me stretch just to make sure that nothing was broken. More than embarrassment, I was angry at a friend of mine was suggesting a diet which clearly wasn’t working! 😀

I realized a bit later that I had cut my thumb quite deeply during the fall, I don’t know how that happened, and that my butt ached painfully all through the day. That I am accident prone is an understatement.

The Remnants Of The Disaster
The Remnants
The Cut
The Cut

I wanted to name this post “Return Of The Yo-Yo,” because my bike ran out of fuel on my way back and I had to push it for half an hour bearing the paining butt, and then stopped for another half an hour waiting for my friend to come and rescue me with some petrol, and during that wait, I almost ate a dirty omlette on the street and refrained after seeing the ‘cook’ scratch his butt and his armpits and wipe his hands on a dirty lungi, but I thought the current title would be ample proof for people who want a career in Public Relations to think twice and thrice before embarking on the most dangerous job in the world.

PS: That was the longest sentence I’ve ever written! 😀

PPS: The ‘B’ in Mr. B, obviously, stands for ‘Bastard’. 😀

By Brahma!

A modern form of word association game involves watching a movie and listing down all that comes to your head. My french-fried brain tried it with the above video clip, and all it could come up with were these:

Hungry. Suffering Samurai. Ketchup. Mobile. Samsung. Weird. Nikhil. Dork.

The Mexican Staring Frog of Southern Sri Lanka.

Post Operative Trauma. Toilet Paper.

In this Vishesh-like post of mine, I’m curious to see what you come up with. Shouldn’t be hard – just watch the video clip above and list down all the words that come to mind. 😀

PS: If the above video decides that you’re not worthy enough to view this video, you might see a message that says, “I’m sorry, this video is no longer available.” If that happens, don’t worry. The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs do not discriminate people that way. They have created a special link just for you here.

NewsCracked! :)

newscracked

Ladies and gentlemen,

Welcome to the BNN ICN 9 o’ clock news! Today’s breaking stories:

1. Big Sobb Season 2 ends in dramatic fanfare!

2. Akshay Kumar wears pants inside-out!

3. Madhuri Dixit misses a gray hair while combing!

4. IT company employee sneezes!

5. Aviation minister is high. Literally.

… and other important, earth-shattering, life-changing news stories! Only on BNN ICN. Stay tuned!

For God’s sake, give me a break! Some punk winning a reality TV show is prime time news? To be aired again and again? To be repeated in nauseating detail? To call up that punk’s uncle over the phone and talk to him on National TV?

I thought these news channels were a bit sane. Apparently not. Absurdly enough, this piece of ridiculous ‘news’ was aired right after a brilliant coverage of the Hindustan Times Leadership Summit. Talk about losing the plot. 😀

I should start my own news channel, and air only news that I think is important or worth airing. I wonder how long that channel will take to become famous. I’d call it ‘NewsCracked’… 😀

If I Were A Video Game…

  1. I’d be called “Yo-yo: God Strikes Back!”

  2. The first release of the game would have included villains like The Malevolent Nightmare from the Isolated Earth” and “Kitten-Obliterating Ravager of Yuckiness.”

  3. I’d be constantly on God Mode.

  4. Cheat codes would include, “Call Her Tomorrow”, “Don’t take her phone calls”, “Ditch every third girl”, “Men are pigs”, “Beer breakfast”, “Weed cake”, “Nirvana”, “Forgive and Regret” and most importantly, “Fuckhead.”

  5. Playstation 3 would feature a multi-player version of me, where one of the players has to be a woman and has to be cute, compulsorily. (Players will have to undergo a genetic test before playing.)

  6. MirrorCracked would feature a complete ‘walkthro’ of the game, to allow followers of the game to literally, walk in my shoes.

  7. The X-box 360 version will have horny sexy cheerleaders popping up every three minutes and doing what they do best.

  8. I would overtake Counter Strike as the most popular game on the planet, and due to the sex and violence involved, China would ban the game.

  9. Hollywood would make a movie based on the game, featuring Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson and Angelina ‘The Dumb’ Jolie.

  10. I wouldn’t be blogging, since I’d be a frikkin video game.

Enough nonsense. Time to get back to my personalized version of Road Rash, where I’m the only guy on a bike chasing lungi-clad Indian politicians (Level 1) and horny sexy scantily-clad cheerleaders (Level 2).

Oops, He Did It Again! :)

Deve Louda Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!
Deve Gowda - The Art Of Holding An Entire City At Ransom!

Every country has it’s fair share of jackass politicians and India perhaps has the most. Topping the list of overachievers is the supremely anal Deve Louda Gowda. He was the Prime Minister of the country a while back, and during his stint, India stooped to an all time low. He was notorious for disrupting the lives of the citizens with his absurd political campaigns and crap-all marches. Last night, he outclassed himself by holding the entire city at ransom. Here’s what transpired two days prior to the incident:

Scene: Deve Louda Gowda’s toilet.

For sake of convenience, we’ll refer to him as Fuckhead.

Fuckhead is sitting on the pot and trying to forget the past 15 painful minutes. At his age, he realizes that he shouldn’t be eating spicy curry for dinner lest he goes through this marathon session in the toilet again. He has his laptop on his knees and he is reading MirrorCracked – his daily dose of laughter. He reads this post called “Living In Ghost Town,” where the author has written about how empty the roads of Bangalore were and how he’s so happy that he reached his office in half an hour, instead of the usual one hour.

Fuckhead frowns and hatches a plan to make that author’s life miserable. He calls it Operation Manic Monday.

On the 17th of November, he holds the biggest political rally in his miserable career. Worse still, he holds this rally in the heart of the city – Palace Grounds. Three hundred and fifty thousand people thronged to the rally from all around Bangalore (Please note: People came from all around Bangalore, not from Bangalore. Over 1000 vehicles, including 400 buses were allowed into the city carrying the hopeful and the misinformed villagers.)

Roads are choked and the entire city comes to a standstill, in the biggest traffic management disaster the city has ever seen. Fuckhead smiles in satisfaction.

“The author of MirrorCracked has been taken care of,” he says to his personal assistant. “No longer will he write about Bangalore roads being empty. I have triumphed.”

The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs were shocked and angered at this cruel, below-the-belt tactic that Fuckhead employed. They think that Deve Louda Gowda is jealous of Nikhil’s sexy beard and the luxuriant hair on his head. Maybe…