I, Ignominy!

ignominyForgive me, for I have sinned. I am a jerk and an asshole and the biggest sinner since Britney Spears. I adhere to certain principles in life, as we all do, and I try beyond my abilities not to go against any of them. Some while ago, when I was still in school (7th grade, to be precise), I became a purist of the English language, and I have a track record of being grammatically, politically and syntactically correct whenever I use the language to write, speak, SMS, email or abuse. And yesterday, I sinned.

I had ranted about the ridiculous PR lingo a while back, and to this day, almost a year into my career as a PR man, I strongly believe that the PR lingo needs a major upheaval. There are phrases like ‘dipstick’, ‘revert back’, ‘backgrounder’ and other molestations of the language, along with a stream of utterly infuriating acronyms like MRR, WRR, SR, ER, MOM, MT, PC, SC, C and AC. See, I told you, it’s a nightmare.

So anyway, my fall from grace, my hour of shame, my ignominy was this particular sentence I said:

“The jerk’s gonna send me the boilerplate in a while…”

I said it and I froze. I think I’m more suited to work in a foundry than in PR. I can’t believe I actually used the word ‘boilerplate’. I am doomed.

Forgive me, for I have sinned.

Image Courtesy: Dallasarena.com

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The Death Of The Knock-Knock Joke!

Fellow blogger and close friend, Scorpria, just killed the “Knock-Knock” joke!

For centuries, the Knock-Knock jokes have enthralled us and held us captive in their charm and wit and charisma, and total disregard for pronunciation, punctuation and common sense! They have never failed to bring a smile to our faces and laugh at our own ignorance! Now, the Knock-Knock joke is no more! There is evenΒ  a Wikipedia page dedicated to this great joke!

This was the conversation, verbatim, that occured on the 18th of July, at 4.59 pm.

Me: Hey Scorpria, mind if I tell you a great Knock-Knock joke?

Scorpria: Oh, not at all! I love them!

Me: Knock! Knock!

Scorpria: Come in!Β  πŸ˜€

…………

Doctors, please note the hour of death. Obituaries are called for, and may be deposited in the comments section.

Due to the gruesomeness of the murder, I also call for a discussion to decide the most appropriate punishment for Scorpria. Such murderers cannot be allowed to walk the streets scott-free! Also, please be noted that a motion has been passed to officially christen July 18th as the “Knock-Knock Day,” in loving memory.

Rest In Peace!

Image Courtesy: metal-archives.com

The Day I Almost Died…

Well, not exactly. But I came dangerously close to losing my life. πŸ˜€

I live a dangerous life. My job takes me all the remote corners of the city and more often that not, I end up rubbing the wrong people the wrong way. No, I don’t give back rubs for a living, but something close. Whenever I fail to make my clients look like God’s gifts to mankind, and end up looking bad in public, they scream bloody murder and run behind me with guns, knifes and swords, baying for my blood. A few days ago, I almost regretted being in this business. πŸ˜€

Everyone would probably agree that the word “jobs” does not mean “people”, literally speaking. This schism between the two words is enhanced if they are used in a sentence like this: “We’re offering jobs…” and “We’re offering people…” πŸ˜€

Journalism is losing its charm in this country and when this happens, the quality of people entering the field drastically comes down. Exceptions aside, all the new kids in journalism are very green, with loads to learn, starting with the difference in meaning between the two sentences above! When a multinational company’s CEO is quoted as saying, “We’re offering people…” I tend to get a bit nervous and fear for my life. The moment I read this quote in the paper that morning, I gulped and crouched under the table, and sure enough, ten minutes later, the hits started pouring in. πŸ˜€

“Whom do we offer PEOPLE to??”
“We offer PEOPLE??”
“What sort of a joke is this??”
“Where do you stay??”

and so on…

The CEO wanted me killed. The mafia had a gleam in their eye, wondering about who it was that encroached on their human trafficking business. The MD of the company wanted me killed. My friend, whom I was doing a favor by promising him a quote by the CEO of the company (it was technically his client) wanted me killed, fired and then shot. The bloody journalist was “not reachable” on his phone. πŸ˜€

This is the last time, I thought to myself, that I help out people outside my clientΓ¨le. I’ll stick to my own circle and face the music on my own, with the number of people baying for my blood reduced by half, well under the panic limit. πŸ˜€

The Big Crunch!

end of the world2008 hasn’t been a very good year for me so far. In fact, it hasn’t been a good year for most of the people I’ve known – failed marriages, failed love lives, too many bad days at work and school, diets not working, falling down, accidents, losing clients, losing major contracts, losing jobs, cost-cuttings, fights at home, and so on… The list is endless. Most of the people I know can’t really explain what’s happening. Last year, it had been so good for these people, me included, and all of a sudden, fortunes change drastically. A close friend of mine lost close to fifty thousand rupees on the stock markets and another good friend of mine had a life-threatening accident. I almost had my brush with death when the plane I was traveling in, on my way to India from New York, experienced so much turbulence that the pilot announced that they had to make an emergency landing somewhere – freaked me out at that time, but the turbulence passed and I reached safely.
But on the whole, it hasn’t been a really good year.

Friends of mine have flunked their exams and whose who were waiting for job offers and marriage proposals were disappointed. Another friend of mine called Divya was so happy that she had finally found a guy to get married and she called me up, all hyper-excited! A week later, she told me the marriage was off as the guy decided to study further and rejected her. I was more heartbroken, not only for her, but it proved my theory of 2008 being a very very bad year for most people.

Now, I know why it is a bad year. I did some calculations and called up a few people who take this astrology thing seriously, and I have a passably corny theory, wrapped in some flimsy auspices of scientific fact. Here it is:

The Big Bang Theory states that once the universe stops expanding, it’ll start collapsing into itself. This phenomenon is termed the Big Crunch. Sometime in December last year,Β  the Universe reached its limit of expansion, and just like an expanding balloon, it paused for an instant, stretched out to its tensile limit, and hung in an instant of timelessness. Everything stopped in that instant, including time. I don’t know if any of you have noticed that time seemed to be behaving strangely around November-December of 2007, but for me at least, it was so unnerving. I used to think that time seemed to be going slower than usual. Maybe it was because I had my exams at that time, but I don’t know. The clock never seemed to move ahead!

Now, in 2008, the Universe has begun the Crunch. Everything is moving in reverse – bad things are replacing good things everywhere in the world. Crime rate is up 11% in India alone! We are stuck in this lawless, reverse universe for a couple of billion years minimum.

I think we’d better start praying…

Disclaimer: The above theory has absolutely no scientific or astrological basis. It’s pure and utter nonsense, a brainchild of a bored and zombified mind. πŸ˜€

The Case Of The Disappearing Currency

4:09 pm – I bought a couple of packs of chewing gum at a roadside store, paid with a hundred-rupee note and got ninety rupees back, including a 50-rupee note.

4:20 pm – I’m driving in heavy traffic towards Barista to meet a friend and have a cup of coffee.

4:32 pm – I stop to pick up some smokes at some other roadside store and pay the guy ten bucks.

4:59 pm – I think to myself as I’m parking my Mom’s old, worn-out Luna that I need to fill up a water bottle with fifty bucks’ worth fuel for my bike, whose tank was bone dry.

5:45 pm – Rags and I leave Barista and walk over to the gas station across the street.

5:47 pm – The attendant fills up the water bottle with fuel and I open my wallet to pay him…

What happened next was a complete shock to me. There was no money in my wallet. There should’ve been close to sixty bucks in there, and all I saw was some dirty old ten-rupee note. I gulped and looked at Rags. She pitied me and gave me the money for the fuel.

I called the Hardy Boys to investigate the crime, and they came promptly at around ten in the night. We ended up getting drunk and woke up this morning not knowing why I had called them.

Ah, my hard-earned fifty rupees! 😦