Funny Aussies!

The questions below about Australia, are from potential visitors. They were posted on an Australian Tourism Website and the answers are the actual responses by the website officials, who obviously have a sense of humour.

Q: Does it ever get windy in Australia? I have never seen it rain on TV, how do the plants grow? (UK).
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around watching them die.

Q: Will I be able to see kangaroos in the street? (USA)
A: Depends how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Perth to Sydney - can I follow the railroad tracks? (Sweden)
A: Sure, it's only three thousand miles, take lots of water.

Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Australia? (Sweden)
A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.

Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in Australia? Can you send me a list of them in Brisbane, Cairns, Townsville and Hervey Bay? (UK)
A: What did your last slave die of?

Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Australia? (USA)
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe. Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific which does not... oh forget it. Sure, the hippo racing is every tuesday night in Kings Cross. Come naked.

Q: Which direction is North in Australia? (USA)
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Australia? (UK)
A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.

Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? (USA)
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is...oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Kings Cross, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.

Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia? ( UK)
A: You are a British politician, right?

Q: Are there supermarkets in Sydney and is milk available all year round? (Germany)
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.

Q: Please send a list of all doctors in Australia who can dispense rattlesnake serum. (USA)
A: Rattlesnakes live in A-meri-ca which is where YOU come from. All Australian snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make good pets.

Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Australia, but I forget its name. It's a kind of bear and lives in trees. (USA)
A: It's called a Drop Bear. They are so called because they drop out of Gum trees and eat the brains of anyone walking underneath them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.

Q: Do you have perfume in Australia? (France)
A: No, WE don't stink.

Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Australia? (USA)
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.

Q: Can you tell me the regions in Tasmania where the female population is smaller than the male population? (Italy)
A: Yes, gay nightclubs.

Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in Australia? (France)
A: Only at Christmas.

Q: I was in Australia in 1969 on R+R, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Kings Cross. Can you help? (USA)
A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.

Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? (USA)
A: Yes, but you'll have to learn it first

Revenge stinks!

She spent the first day packing her belongings into boxes, crates and suitcases.

On the second day, she had the movers come and collect her things.

On the third day, she sat down for the last time at their beautiful dining room table by candlelight, put on some soft background music, and feasted on a pound of shrimp, a jar of caviar, and a bottle of Chardonnay.

When she had finished, she went into each and every room and deposited a few half-eaten shrimp shells dipped in caviar, into the hollow of the curtain rods. She then cleaned up the kitchen and left.

When the husband returned with his new girlfriend, all was bliss for the first few days. Then slowly, the house began to smell. They tried everything, cleaning, mopping, and airing the place out. Vents were checked for dead rodents, and carpets were steam cleaned. Air fresheners were hung everywhere. Exterminators were brought in to set off gas canisters, during which they had to move out for a few days, and in the end they even paid to replace the expensive wool carpeting. Nothing worked.

People stopped coming over to visit. Repairmen refused to work in the house. The maid quit. Finally, they could not take the stench any longer and decided to move.

A month later, even though they had cut their price in half, they could not find a buyer for their stinky house. Word got out, and eventually, even the local realtors refused to return their calls. Finally, they had to borrow a huge sum of money from the bank to purchase a new place.

The ex-wife called the man, and asked how things were going. He told her the saga of the rotting house. She listened politely, and said that she missed her old home terribly, and would be willing to reduce her divorce settlement in exchange for getting the house back.

Knowing his ex-wife had no idea how bad the smell was, he agreed on price that was about 1/10th of what the house had been worth, but only if she were to sign the papers that very day. She agreed, and within the hour his lawyers delivered the paperwork.

A week later the man and his girlfriend stood smiling as they watched the moving company pack everything to take to their new home, including the curtain rods.

I Like Monkeys

Found it somewhere. Thought it was funny.

I like monkeys.

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was retarded. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs.

I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.

I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked fora while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad.

I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odour wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.

Did You Know? (Part 2)

In Switzerland, it is illegal to flush the toilet after 10 P.M. if you live in an apartment and a man may not relieve himself while standing up, after 10 P.M. (Imagine if the man has a broken toilet seat!)

In Israel, picking your nose on Saturday is forbidden. (Aww... shucks!)

In California, USA it is illegal to set a mousetrap without a hunting license. (Wonder what the animal right activists would say to that.)

In the city of Blythe, California, a person must own at least two cows before he is permitted to wear cowboy boots in public. (Free! Free! Free! Buy two cows and get a pair of cowboy boots absolutely free! Hurry! Offer till stocks last!)

In San Salvador, drunk drivers can be punished by death before a firing squad. (Talk about having the last drink.)

In the city of York, England it is legal to murder a Scotsman within the ancient city walls, but only if he is carrying a bow and arrow. (Aah! But only...)

In the Mohave County of Arizona, anyone caught stealing a soap, must wash himself with it, until it’s all used up. (That’ll make sure that the guy never uses soap again.)

In Angeles, California, if robbing a bank, shooting at the teller with a water gun is prohibited. (But water's cheaper than bullets!)

In Australia, it is illegal to dress up as batman. (Now that’s a big let down for all comic book fans. Hopefully dressing up as Superman is legal.)

In Israel, if you have been maintaining an illegal radio station for five or more years, the station becomes legal. (And until then? Can we operate from the basement?)

In Arkansas, a man has a legal right to beat his wife, but only once a month. (So what’s the legal right of the wife, the rest of the 29 days?)

In Los Angeles, California you cannot bathe two babies in the same tub at the same time. (And what about saving the water?)

In Florida, unmarried women who parachute on Sundays can be jailed. (So don't forget to carry your marriage certificate with you.)

In Boston,Massachusetts it is Illegal to take a bath unless one has been ordered by a physician to do so. (Obviously!)

Dear Diary...

Writing a diary is supposed to enhance one's literary skills and will help in recollection if you look back at it many years later. Or so I had read it somewhere many years ago. After which I decided that I'll start keeping a diary from the coming new year onwards. Which I did. And I don't really know if it really helped in enhance my literary skills or now but let me tell you, it does provide a hell lot of recollection and not to mention a good, hearty laugh which rather helps in getting my circulation system a bit more enthusiastic about it's job. Here are the diary entries, verbatim (barring the grammatical mistakes which I'm too embarrassed to leave uncorrected).

January 1, 1999
Hi! I'm going to be writing in this diary everyday about my life and what goes on in it. I should hope that it'll be fun. I'll share everything in it. So, to start with, I'd a wonderful New Year's Party. The food was wonderful. We played Cluedo and then Monopoly. I didn't win but it was fun. But now, I'm going to sleep.

January 2, 1999
My vacations end today. I wish I didn't have to go to school tomorrow. But life! Didn't do much today. Played on the computer and watched TV. Boring.

January 3, 1999
Went to school. Nothing interesting happened. Boring.

January 4, 1999
Went to school. Nothing interesting happened.

January 5, 1999
Went to school. Nothing interesting happened.

January 6, 1999
Went to school. Weekend tomorrow at last.

January 7, 1999
Weekend's fun. Did nothing though.

January 19, 1999
Oh sorry, I'd forgotten that I'd to write in the diary. Nothing interesting happened, though. Went to school. I'll be regular from tomorrow.

January 20, 1999
School was boring. Life's boring.

February 12, 1999
Sorry, I forgot all about this diary again. I'll be regular from now on.


And that was the last entry for the year. The rest of the diary was used for rough work and recording poems and story ideas. Stupid things though, the diaries.

Driving in India

An article by Coen Jeukens, a Dutchman, who spent two years in Bangalore, India.

For the benefit of every Tom, Dick and Harry visiting India and daring to drive on Indian roads, I am offering a few hints for survival. They are applicable to every place in India except Bihar, where life outside a vehicle is only marginally safer.

Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you do your best, and leave the results to your insurance company. The hints are as follows: Do we drive on the left or right of the road? The answer is “both”. Basically you start on the left of the road, unless it is occupied. In that case, go to the right, unless that is also occupied. Then proceed by occupying the next available gap, as in chess. Just trust your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. Most drivers don’t drive, but just aim their vehicles in the generally intended direction.

Don’t you get discouraged or underestimate yourself except for a belief in reincarnation; the other drivers are not in any better position. Don’t stop at pedestrian crossings just because some fool wants to cross the road. You may do so only if you enjoy being bumped in the back.

Pedestrians have been strictly instructed to cross only when traffic is moving slowly or has come to a dead stop because some minister is in town. Still some idiot may try to wade across, but then, let us not talk ill of the dead.

Blowing your horn is not a sign of protest as in some countries. We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust (two brisk blasts),or just mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the bazaar. Keep informative books in the glove compartment. You may read them during traffic jams, while awaiting the chief minister’s motorcade, or waiting for the rainwater to recede when over ground traffic meets underground drainage.

Occasionally you might see what looks like a UFO with blinking colored lights and weird sounds emanating from within. This is an illuminated bus, full of happy pilgrims singing bhajans. These pilgrims go at breakneck speed, seeking contact with the Almighty, often meeting with success.

Auto Rickshaw (Baby Taxi): The result of a collision between a rickshaw and an automobile, this three-wheeled vehicle works on an external combustion engine that runs on a mixture of kerosene oil and creosote. This triangular vehicle carries iron rods, gas cylinders or passengers three times its weight and dimension, at an unspecified fare. After careful geometric calculations, children are folded and packed into these auto rickshaws until some children in the periphery are not in contact with the vehicle at all. Then their school bags are pushed into the microscopic gaps all round so those minor collisions with other vehicles on the road cause no permanent damage. Of course, the peripheral children are charged half the fare and also learn Newton’s laws of motion en route to school. Auto-rickshaw drivers follow the road rules depicted in the film Ben Hur, and are licensed to irritate.

Mopeds: The moped looks like an oil tin on wheels and makes noise like an electric shaver. It runs 30 miles on a teaspoon of petrol and travels at break-bottom speed. As the sides of the road are too rough for a ride, the moped drivers tend to drive in the middle of the road; they would rather drive under heavier vehicles instead of around them and are often “mopped” off the tarmac.

Leaning Tower of Passes: Most bus passengers are given free passes and during rush hours, there is absolute mayhem. There are passengers hanging off other passengers, who in turn hang off the railings and the overloaded bus leans dangerously, defying laws of gravity but obeying laws of surface tension. As drivers get paid for overload (so many Rupees per kg of passenger), no questions are ever asked. Steer clear of these buses by a width of three passengers.

One-way Street: These boards are put up by traffic people to add jest in their otherwise drab lives. Don’t stick to the literal meaning and proceed in one direction. In metaphysical terms, it means that you cannot proceed in two directions at once. So drive as you like, in reverse throughout, if you are the fussy type. Least I sound hypercritical, I must add a positive point also. Rash and fast driving in residential areas has been prevented by providing a “speed breaker”; two for each house. This mound, incidentally, covers the water and drainage pipes for that residence and is left untarred for easy identification by the corporation authorities, should they want to recover the pipe for year-end accounting.

Night driving on Indian roads can be an exhilarating experience for those with the mental make up of Genghis Khan. In a way, it is like playing Russian roulette, because you do not know who amongst the drivers is loaded. What looks like premature dawn on the horizon turns out to be a truck attempting a speed record. On encountering it, just pull partly into the field adjoining the road until the phenomenon passes.

Our roads do not have shoulders, but occasional boulders. Do not blink your lights expecting reciprocation. The only dim thing in the truck is the driver, and with the peg of illicit arrack (alcohol) he has had at the last stop, his total cerebral functions add up to little more than a naught. Truck drivers are the James Bonds of India, and are licensed to kill. Often you may encounter a single powerful beam of light about six feet above the ground. This is not a super motorbike, but a truck approaching you with a single light on, usually the left one. It could be the right one, but never get too close to investigate. You may prove your point posthumously.

A Brand New Refreshment!

Yes, cool rhyme and all that. But what about the thirsty vegetarians?!

10 things I would like to do before I die.

1. Make a stupid list.
2. Attend the Milan derby at San Siro.
3. Go on a World Tour.
4. Write a totally ripped-off book. Something like Harry Potter, for instance.
5. See Opeth and/or Anathema in Live Concert.
6. See India play in the football World Cup.
7. See the Earth from Outer Space.
8. Invent something totally useless.
9. Get a patent on the above-mentioned useless invention.
10. Get a life.
    

This is what GRE does to you

Received this in an e-mail. Pretty cool.

A NORMAL PERSON : People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
GRE STUDENT : Individuals who make their abodes in vitreous edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous projectiles.

NORMAL PERSON : Twinkle, twinkle, little star
GRE STUDENT : Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minim.

NORMAL PERSON : All that glitters is not gold.
GRE STUDENT : All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not truly auriferous.

NORMAL PERSON : Beggars are not choosers
GRE STUDENT : Sorting on the part of mendicants must be interdicted.

NORMAL PERSON : Dead men tell no tales
GRE STUDENT : Male cadavers are incapable of rendering any testimony.

NORMAL PERSON : Beginner's luck
GRE STUDENT : Neophyte's serendipity.

NORMAL PERSON : A rolling stone gathers no moss
GRE STUDENT : A revolving lithic conglomerate accumulates no congeries of small, green, biophytic plant.

NORMAL PERSON : Birds of a feather flock together
GRE STUDENT : Members of an avian species of identical plumage tend to congregate.

NORMAL PERSON : Beauty is only skin deep
GRE STUDENT : Pulchritude possesses solely cutaneous profundity.

NORMAL PERSON : Cleanliness is godliness
GRE STUDENT : Freedom from incrustations of grime is contiguous to rectitude.

NORMAL PERSON : There's no use crying over spilt milk
GRE STUDENT : It is fruitless to become lachrymose of precipitately departed lactile fluid.

NORMAL PERSON : You can't try to teach an old dog new tricks
GRE STUDENT : It is fruitless to attempt to indoctrinate a superannuated canine with innovative maneuvers.

NORMAL PERSON : Look before you leap
GRE STUDENT : Surveillance should precede saltation.

NORMAL PERSON : He who laughs last, laughs best
GRE STUDENT : The person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation.

NORMAL PERSON : All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.
GRE STUDENT : Exclusive dedication to necessitous chores without interludes of hedonistic diversion renders Jack a hebetudinous fellow.

NORMAL PERSON : Where there's smoke, there's fire!
GRE STUDENT : Where there are visible vapours having their provenance in ignited carbonaceous materials, there is conflagration.

Terrorist Fan Mail

Dear Terrorists,

I know that you guys are, like, always on the move and all, so this letter might not get to you. But if it does, I would like to tell you that I’m like a big fan of yours and the stuff that you guys do. You know, ever since I saw you guys crashing the plane into the WTC on 9/11, I really thought that you guys were so cool. You know, like fearless and all. That kind of stuff totally kicks me up, you know. So, like, since then, I wanted to become a terrorist when I grew up. I’ve been practicing being one on this game called CS. Have you guys like ever played that? You know, you should, I’m damn sure you’ll, like, totally enjoy the game and all. And I’m a pretty decent shot with an AK-47, you see.

Now to the serious stuff, you guys. I know you guys don’t really take criticism badly, so, I thought that I could like tell you guys something that’s been on my mind lately, you know. It’s like, I know you guys are after the government of various countries and all, but, you know, it’s like a totally stupid thing to blow up normal people to show your hate. Because, it’s like, the normal people don’t really like their government either, you know. They all totally hate the people who lead them. So, you know, by blowing them up, you’re only killing your supporters and all. And besides, the worst thing you could actually do to the normal people is to let them continue their totally miserable lives. Do you know how hard it is to get a decent job nowadays? Do you guys know how hard it is for a normal person to feed himself and his family, if any? Do you guys, like, have any idea how difficult it is to live in this world filled with corrupt police and politicians and all? So, you know, it’s better if you guys could just leave the normal people alone and not blow them up like you do all the time.

I really hope that you guys would, like, think about what I told you and all and, like, decide on your targets again. And also, since, you know, that Christmas is like just around the corner and all, could you guys, like, get Mr. Bin Laden (Can I call him “The Big Oz”, by the way?) to come over to my place and gift me an AK-47? You know, it would be really awesomely cool to terrorise my neighbourhood and all. And teach all the bullies why not to mess with me and all. I would really like to become the Friendly Neighbourhood Terrorist, you know. Would it be, like, cool if I call myself the Spandexman?

Your biggest fan,
Me

Lord of the rings: Really, Really Short Version

This one is totally off the rocker. While my versions would only make one smile, this one made me laugh out loud. Take a look at it yourself: Lord of the rings: Really, Really Short Version

In the words of the person who sent me this: "You have to admit, it beats all the other versions". And so it does :D

Did you know?

In Lebanon, men are legally allowed to have sex with animals, but the animals must be female. Having sexual relations with a male animal is punishable by death. (Like THAT difference makes sense.)

In Bahrain, a male doctor may legally examine a woman's genitals, but is prohibited from looking directly at them during the examination. He may only see their reflection in a mirror. (Do they look different reversed?)

Muslims are banned from looking at the genitals of a corpse. This also applies to undertakers; the sex organs of the deceased must be covered with a brick or piece of wood at all times. (A brick??)

The penalty for masturbation in Indonesia is decapitation. (Much worse than "going blind!")

There are men in Guam whose full-time job is to travel the countryside and deflower young virgins, who pay them for the privilege of having sex for the first time... Reason: under Guam law, it is expressly forbidden for virgins to marry. (Let's just think for a minute; is there any job anywhere else in the world that even comes close to this?)

In Hong Kong, a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may only do so with her bare hands. The husband's lover, on the other hand, may be killed in any manner desired. (Ah! Justice!)

Topless saleswomen are legal in Liverpool, England - but only in tropical fish stores. (But of course!)

In Cali, Colombia, a woman may only have sex with her husband, and the first time this happens, her mother must be in the room to witness the act. (Makes one shudder at the thought.)

In Santa Cruz, Bolivia, it is illegal for a man to have sex with a woman and her daughter at the same time. (I presume this was a big enough problem that they had to pass this law?)

In Maryland, it is illegal to sell condoms from vending machines with one exception: prophylactics may be dispensed from a vending machine only "in places where alcoholic beverages are sold for consumption on the premises."

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.
(Who volunteers for this stuff?)

Humans and dolphins are the only species that have sex for pleasure.
(Is that why Flipper was always smiling?)

The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue.

The ant can lift 50 times its own weight, can pull 30 times its own weight and always falls over on its right side when intoxicated.
(From drinking little bottles of...?)

Butterflies taste with their feet.

An ostrich's eye is bigger than it's brain. (I know some people like that.)

Starfish don't have brains. (I know some people like that, too!)

And, the best for last... turtles can breathe through their butts.
(Do you think they have bad breath?)

The Terribly Tough Tongue Twisters

I was browsing through the web desperately trying to find some means of entertainment when I stumbled upon a site with some quality tongue twisters. Well, what could be a better way to while away time than to speak out tentatively traumatising tongue twisters. I had my fun. You have your share to. But please stop before your condition reaches that of the guy over here:

Six sick slick slim sycamore saplings.

A big black bug bit a big black bear,
and made the big black bear bleed blood.

A Tudor who tooted a flute
tried to tutor two tooters to toot.
Said the two to their tutor,
"Is it harder to toot
or to tutor two tooters to toot?"

A bitter biting bittern
Bit a better brother bittern,
And the bitter better bittern
Bit the bitter biter back.
And the bitter bittern, bitten,
By the better bitten bittern,
Said: "I'm a bitter biter bit, alack!"

Mr. See owned a saw.
And Mr. Soar owned a seesaw.
Now See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw
Before Soar saw See,
Which made Soar sore.
Had Soar seen See's saw
Before See sawed Soar's seesaw,
See's saw would not have sawed
Soar's seesaw.
So See's saw sawed Soar's seesaw.
But it was sad to see Soar so sore
Just because See's saw sawed
Soar's seesaw!

You've no need to light a night-light
On a light night like tonight,
For a night-light's light's a slight light,
And tonight's a night that's light.
When a night's light, like tonight's light,
It is really not quite right
To light night-lights with their slight lights
On a light night like tonight.

Two Truckee truckers truculently truckling
to have truck to truck two trucks of truck.

Ed had edited it.

A bloke's back bike brake block broke.

Lily ladles little Letty's lentil soup.

Can you imagine an imaginary menagerie manager
imagining managing an imaginary menagerie?

And if you're still willing to try some more, find More tongue twisters here.

English is a Funny Language

There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple... English muffins were not invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies, while sweetbreads, which aren't sweet, are meat.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write, but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce, and hammers don't ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn't the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So, one moose, 2 meese? One index, two indices? Is cheese the plural of choose?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play, and play at a recital? Ship by truck, and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? How can the weather be hot as hell one day and cold as hell another?

When a house burns up, it burns down. You fill in a form by filling it out, and an alarm clock goes off by going on. When the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible. And why, when I wind up my watch, I start it, but when I wind up this post, I end it?

Songs of the Middle-Earth: White City

White City
(Originally as Paradise City by the Guns N' Roses, this song is the most popular soldier's tune in Minas Tirith.)

Chorus:
Take me down to the White City
Where the walls are white
And the girls are pretty
Take me home (Oh, won't you please take me home)

Just a soldier livin' under the street
I'm a hard warrior that's tough to beat
I'm your last defense
So buy me somethin' to eat
I'll pay you with a dime
Fightin' to the end of time.

Orcs to Trolls
Or so they say
You gotta
Keep fightin' for the glory and fame
You know it's, it's all a game
When it's just a game
You treat it like a great war
We are fightin' for Gondor

Chorus x2

Standing in the tower of the city's battlements
Last I was afraid, I can't quite remember
The captain general says it's time to stay alert
I'd have another pipeweed
But I can't see
Tell me that you're gonna believe

Chorus x2

So far away x4

Though Gondor's been torn apart
It still has its glory
With a light heart
We watch towards Mordor
And they can never take Gondor
I must be losing my mind
"Are you blind?!"
I've seen it all a mllion times

CHORUS x4

I want to go
I want to know
Oh, won't you please take me home

I want to see
Oh, look at me
Oh, won't you please take me home

Take me down to the White City
Where the walls are white
And the girls are pretty
Take me home (Oh, won't you please take me home)

Take me down to the White City
Where the walls are white
And the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home

Take me down
Oh yeah
Beat me down
Oh, won't you please take me home

I want to see
Oh, look at me
Oh, won't you please take me home

I want to see
Boy, I'm gonna be mean
Oh, oh take me home

Take me down to the White City
Where the walls are white
And the girls are pretty
Oh, won't you please take me home

I want to go
I want to know
Oh, won't you please take me home
Baby

Songs of the Middle-Earth: Knockin' on Gondor's Doors

Knockin' on Gondor's Doors
(Sung to the tune of Knockin' on Heaven's Doors by Eric Clapton, it was often sung by the orcs who were handling the Grond during the Siege of Minas Tirith)

Sauron gave this Grond to me
The hammer of Vala Melkor
It's getting dark and I am happy
Feels like I'm knockin' on Gondor's door

Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door

The doors are falling to the ground
There won't be a Minas Tirith anymore
The great Witch King is comin' down
Feels like I'm knockin' on Gondor's door

Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door
Knock-knock-knockin' on Gondor's door

Songs of the Middle-Earth: Ëarendil

Ëarendil
(Sung to the tune of Kryptonite by the Three Doors Down, this song was often sung by Frodo during his journey to destroy the Ring.)

I took a walk in Middle-Earth to
Ease the troubled land
I left my uncle laying somewhere
In the Rivendell
I have to throw the Ring
Into the Cracks of Doom
I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah

I have to throw the Ring
Into the Cracks of Doom
Even though I know
This will lead me to my doom.
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as Sauron will be dead at the end

If I die and fail will I still
Have your unfailing love
If I'm alive and well, will the stars
Still shine from above.
I'll try to destroy the Ring with
My weak halfling skill
Ëarendil

You called me strong, you called me weak
But still the Ring I will keep
I'll remember you for all the times you
Never let me down
I stumbled in and bumped my head, if
Not for you then I would be dead
You picked me up and put me back
On solid ground

If I die and fail will I still
Have your unfailing love
If I'm alive and well, will the stars
Still shine from above.
I'll try to destroy the Ring with
My weak halfling skill
Ëarendil

If I die and fail will I still
Have your unfailing love
If I'm alive and well, will the stars
Still shine from above.
I'll try to destroy the Ring with
My weak halfling skill
Ëarendil

If I die and fail will I still
Have your unfailing love
If I'm alive and well, will the stars
Still shine from above.
I'll try to destroy the Ring with
My weak halfling skill
Ëarendil

Songs of the Middle-Earth: Minas Morgul

Minas Morgul
(Sung to the tune of Hotel California by The Eagles)

On a dark Mordor highway, foul wind in my hair
Foul smell of flesh, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There he stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
’this could not be heaven so this really is hell’
Then he lit up a torch and he showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...

Welcome to the Minas Morgul
Such a beastly place
Such a beastly face
Plenty of doom at the Minas Morgul
Any time of year, you can find it here

His mind is a little twisted, He's got the orcs and troll
He got a lot of baddy, baddy boys, that He calls Nazgul
How they roam in the courtyard, shreiking their cry.
Some kill for pleasure, some kill to destroy

So I called up the Witch King,
’please bring me my wine’
He said, ’we haven’t had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine’
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the Minas Morgul
Such a beastly place
Such a beastly face
They livin’ it up at the Minas Morgul
What a nice kill, to your heart's fill.

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink flesh on ice
And he said ’you are all just prisoners here, of your own device’
And in the master’s chambers,
They gathered for the dinner
The stab it with their steely knives,
After they had killed the prisoner.

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
’relax,’ said the Witch King,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkin any time you like,
But you can never leave!

Songs of the Middle-Earth: We Will Rock You

We Will Rock you!
(Originally by Queen, this one was sung by the Orc Army outside the walls of Minas Tirith during the siege)

Gondor is a city with a big wall
Fightin’ in the field gonna be a big war to-day
Throwin' rocks on yo’ walls
Your big city falls
Killin' your men all over the place

We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you

Buddy we’re all young orcs hard orcs
Shoutin’ in the street gonna take Middle Earth some day
We got blood on our swords
We're no cowards
Wavin’ our banner all over the place

We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you

Sauron is our Dark Lord Power Lord
Lookin' with his Eye gonna make your walls shake to-day

Throwin' rocks on your walls
You big city falls
We're gonna kill all the men in your place

We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you

Songs of the Middle-Earth: Everything I do (I do it for you)

Everything I do (I do it for you)
(Originally sung by Bryan Adams, this one is now performed by the Dark Lord Sauron)

(To: The One Ring)
Look into my Eye
You will see
What you mean to me
Searched the Shire
I'm Searching Gondor
When I find you
Then I'll search no more

(To: Nazgul)
Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for

(To: The One Ring)
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

(To: Frodo)
Look into your heart
You will find
There's nowhere left to hide
Give me what I need
Give my Ring
I would take it back
I would sacrifice

(To: Nazgul)
Don't tell me it's not worth fightin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more

(To: The One Ring)
You know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

There's no ring
Like your beauty
And no other
Could give more power
There's no Middle Earth
When you're there
All the time
All the way

(To: The Nazgul)
Oh - you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more

(To: The One Ring)
Yeah, I would fight for you
I'd kill for you
Go to war for you
Yeah I'd die for you

You know it's true
Everything I do
Ohhh, I do it for you

The Tantalising Toothpaste

I'm using this new toothpaste. It's not really that great. The taste is very bland. Anyhow, what's interesting is this line written on the tube: “You may experience brighter teeth and fresher breath.”

Now, that got me asking questions. What do they mean may experience? And even if I do, will the brighter teeth and fresher breath be mine? Or will I be experiencing someone else's? Dammit! I need answers...

Ultra Compact Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

(Background: Bilbo Baggins had a magic ring which made the wearer invisible. Frodo Baggins was his nephew.)

Shire: Happy Birthday, Bilbo!
Bilbo: Thank you all! It’s time for my retirement. Frodo, I leave you all my possessions, including the magic ring.
Gandalf: I’m feeling a bit metallurgical today. Let’s heat the ring.
Frodo: Oooh! Bright, fiery letters!
Gandalf: Dammit! That means that’s the One Ring.
Frodo: Yeah, I can count, stupid. I know it is one ring.
Gandalf: You are in dire need of a history lesson.

(Flashback to the Battle of the Last Alliance and the siege of Mordor)

The Last Alliance: Surrender, Sauron!
Sauron: Make me!
(Battle begins. Sauron swings around his mace killing elves and men. Very much like how a bowling ball strikes the ninepins.)
Elendil: You bastard, I’ll kill you!
(Sauron swings his mace and kills Elendil.)
Isildur: Father! Nooooo! (To Sauron) I’ll kill you, you motherf#@!er!
Sauron: Yeah sure… (shows Isildur the finger)
(Isildur cuts off the finger, ring and all)
Sauron: Oh Shit! (loses his body shape and flees as a spirit)
The Last Alliance: Woohoo!
Elrond: Destroy the ring to destroy Sauron forever.
Isildur: F#@! You. I’m keeping the Ring with myself. It’s so beautiful and round.
(Isildur travels back to his home, gets attacked and is killed, losing the ring in the process)

(End of flashback)

Frodo: This is heavy.
Gandalf: Haha. Nice pun. Now go to Rivendell with the Ring.
Sam, Pippin and Merry: We’re going too.
Gandalf: Okay! (with a thick Austrian accent) I’ll be back!

(On the road)
Strider: Can I join you boys too? I can be your guard and all. And I’m a good singer too.
The hobbits: Have you got food for all of us?
Strider: Yeah!
The hobbits: Alright! Join us.

(On Weathertop)
Nazgul: Give us the Ring.
Frodo: F#@! You.
(Strider attacks the Nazgul. But one of the Nazgul stabs Frodo.)
Frodo: Aaaaah! Shit!
Sam, Merry and Pippin: Shit! Frodo got stabbed.
Strider: Shit! Let’s hurry to Rivendell.

(In Rivendell. Frodo gets cured there.)
The Hobbits: This place is beautiful! So many gorgeous elf maidens!
Strider (Henceforth known as Aragorn): I missed you, baby doll.
Arwen: I missed you too, sweetie pie.
Elrond: I’ve called a council among all the representatives of dwarves, elves, men and hobbits and wizards. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo. (Frodo places the ring on a pedestal in the centre of the council) This Ring is evil. We should destroy it to defeat Sauron forever and be free from his tyranny. Who will go to destroy it?
Boromir: But shouldn’t we use the Ring as a weapon against Sauron?
Aragorn: No, you cannot. The Ring should be destroyed. That’s the only way to defeat Sauron.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Frodo: I’ll take the Ring to Mordor. But I don’t know the way.
Gandalf: I have the map to Middle-Earth. So, I’ll come with you.
Aragorn: I’ll come with you too. I’ll protect you.
Legolas: Aragorn is right. I’m coming too.
Gimli: Oh, what the hell! I’m in too.
Boromir: Is this some new trend? I’ll come too. But only because my home lies that way. (Bloody idiots)
Sam, Merry and Pippin: We’re going too. We hobbits come in a package deal.
Elrond: Hmm… nine of you there are. Call you The Nine Walkers I will. How creative I am! Watch less Star Wars I should.
The Fellowship: Right ho! We’re off!

(On Caradhras)
Fellowship: It’s too cold.
Gandalf: But the weather report in the news said that it was going to be bright and sunny today.
Fellowship: Let’s go to Moria. At least it’ll be warmer there.

(In Moria)
Gimli: My ancestors built this place. Lovely, no?
Fellowship: Awesome!
Gandalf: I have a bad feeling about this.
(Sounds of howling and screeching!)
Legolas: Orcs!
Fellowship: F#@!
(Battle ensues. Fellowship escapes to the bridge of Khazad-dum)
Gandalf: The rest of you go outside. I’ll guard the bridge.
Balrog: I’ll kill you all.
Gandalf: You. Shall not. Pass. (strikes the bridge with his staff. Bridge breaks and Balrog falls.)
Balrog: If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me. (Grabs Gandalf)
Gandalf (hanging on to the ledge): I can’t fly, you fools. (falls into the abyss)
Fellowship: This sucks.
Aragorn: I’ll lead the fellowship now. Let’s go to Lothlorien.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.

(In Lothlorien)
Galadriel: You can rest here. Enjoy your stay. If you need anything, just call room assistance.
Fellowship: Awesome!
Galadriel: Frodo, you come with me.
Frodo: Okay.
Galadriel: Look into this bowl of water.
Frodo: Wow! Lovely fish.
Galadriel: Not that bowl, you idiot. This one.
(Frodo sees the future.)
Galadriel: Forewarned is forearmed. Now, go and destroy the Ring.
Frodo: Roger that, lady. But can I go to sleep now? (yawns)

(Fellowship journeys to Amon Hen.)
Aragorn: Let’s rest here.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Boromir (to Frodo): Let’s take a walk.
(Boromir and Frodo go some distance away from the rest of the fellowship)
Boromir: Give me the Ring. I’ll use it in my war against Sauron. I’ll defeat him. And then I’ll be famous. All the girls will swoon over me.
Frodo: No, I won’t give the Ring to you.
Boromir: F@#! You.
(Frodo slips on the Ring and disappears.)
Boromir: Dammit!

(Noises of howling and screeching)
Legolas: Orcs!
(Battle begins.)
Ugluk, leader of the Orcs: Find the hobbits.
(Battle continues)
Merry and Pippin: Shit! We’re surrounded.
Boromir: I’ll save you.
(Boromir fights the orcs but is killed. The orcs grab Merry and Pippin and run. Aragorn comes to the scene some moments later.)
Aragorn: Oh! Boromir is dead. Let’s push him over the falls and run after the orcs to save Merry and Pippin.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.

Ultra Compact Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

(After several days and miles. The orcs are in Rohan.)
Orcs: Let’s rest here.
(They put Merry and Pippin on the ground.)
Rohirrim: How dare you orcs enter our land without passport? We’ll kill you.
(Battle begins. In the confusion, Merry and Pippin free themselves and run and hide in the nearby Fangorn forest. The Rohirrim kill all the orcs and burn their bodies. In the Fangorn Forest.)
Treebeard: Who are you?
Merry and Pippin: We’re the hobbits. Great things are afoot.
Treebeard: Oh yes… sometimes great things are a foot tall only. Hahahaha.
Merry and Pippin: Hahahahaha (bloody idiot) hahahahaha. Now we must attack Isengard. Saruman should be destroyed.
Treebeard: But why?
Pippin: Because he cut your trees.
Treebeard: Ho Hum! Let me gather my army of walking trees.

(Meanwhile Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli have entered the land of Rohan. They meet up with the Rohirrim riding back from the battle.)
Aragorn: Yo fellas! What’s up?
Eomer: I’m Eomer, a marshal of Rohan. Have you entered Rohan without passports?
Aragorn: We’re the F.B.I. We don’t need passports.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Eomer: You’re the what?
Aragorn: The F.B.I. We’re what the Fellowship has Broken Into.
Eomer: Oh. I see. What business have you here?
Aragorn: We’re looking for some orcs. They have our friends.
Eomer: Oh, we killed them. (points to the smoke from the burning) See. We sent a smoke signal.
Aragorn: Did you find any hobbits? They’re our friends.
Eomer: Nope. Only orcs.
Aragorn: Dammit! We’ll go look for them at the battleground anyway.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Eomer: Suit yourselves.

(Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli enter the Fangorn forest. They see someone moving in the forest.)
Legolas: Orcs!
Gimli: No, that’s Saruman. Let’s kill him.
Aragorn: No, let’s wait and see what he does.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Stranger: Wassup dudes?
Aragorn: Who are you?
Stranger: Y’all don’t know me? I’m Gandalf.
Gimli: No shit! I thought you were dead.
Gandalf: Haha, fooled ya. I’m back. Let’s go to Edoras and meet up with Théoden, the King of Rohan.

(In Edoras)
Gandalf: Théoden, war is upon you. You must fight back.
Théoden: Buzz off, you senile, old fool! We don’t need your help.
Gandalf: You’re out of your mind. Come, look outside. Don’t despair.
Théoden: You’re right. We shall fight Saruman. Forth Eorlingas!

(The Rohan army is diverted into Helm’s Deep. The orcs attack at night. There’s a big battle. You can see that in the movie. The good guys win and orcs are driven back.)
Good guys: Woohoo! We won!
Gandalf: So long, friends. I’m off to Gondor. You guys can tag along later. With an army. See ya.
Pippin: Can you give me a lift?
Gandalf: Hop on!
(Gandalf and Pippin gallop on to Gondor. I mean, the horse Shadowfax does. Gandalf and Pippin simply ride it.)

(Now we go back to Frodo and Sam)
Sam: We’re lost.
Frodo: I’m afraid, we are.
Gollum: Give us the precious!
Frodo: In your dreams, you slinky boy.
(Gollum fights with the hobbits but the hobbits tie him with a rope)
Gollum: Its burns us! It burns us! Take it off us!
Frodo: But only if you show us the way to Mordor.
Gollum: Will do!
Frodo: It’s a deal then.

(The three go to Mordor. On the way, they meet Faramir, Boromir’s brother, who captures them.)
Faramir: Who are you?
Frodo: We’re going to Mordor.
Faramir: What for?
Frodo: To destroy this (holds up the Ring)
Faramir: My God! Isildur’s bane. Go destroy it.

(Frodo, Sam and Gollum reach Mordor. They enter Cirith Ungol. The back-door to Mordor.)
Gollum: Follow us, hobbitses.
Frodo and Sam: Coming.
Gollum: In this cave you go.

(The cave is actually the home of Shelob, a giant spider. She tries to capture Frodo but manages only to poison him. Sam pokes Shelob in the eye and the spider retreats back into the cave)
Sam: Master! Master! Talk to me!
(Frodo remains unconscious)
Sam: Shit! What am I gonna do now?

Ultra Compact Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King

(Gandalf reaches Gondor and meets Denethor, the steward of Gondor)
Gandalf: Old man!
Denethor: Old hag!
Pippin: Your son, Boromir, died trying to save me. I offer you my services.
Denethor: Accepted. Go to the Tower Guard to have your gate-pass made.
Gandalf: War is upon you.
Denethor: I know. Now go and sulk in your room.

(A few days later, Mordor’s army siege Gondor)
Gondorians: F@#!
Denethor: Flee!
Gandalf: Fight!
Pippin: Can you all stop using the f-words?

(In Rohan)
Eomer: I’ve managed to assemble the Rohan army, my King.
Théoden: Good boy. Now let’s go to war.

Aragorn: I’m taking the short-cut. The paths of the dead.
Théoden: Why?
Aragorn: I don’t have that much time. Besides I’ve got a ghost army to exorcise.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Gimli: I’m coming with you too.
Théoden: Okay, off you go. See you in the battle-field.
Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli: Take care, y’all. And kick their asses.

(The Rohan army rides to Gondor. They fight the Mordor army. Big, big battle. Watch the movie for details. Lovely action. Good guys win again. And Aragorn comes too in the end to finish the orcs off. Spectacular!)

Gondor: We’re free.

Gandalf: But now we must attack Mordor itself.
Eomer: You’re just being overconfident. You’re going senile.
Aragorn: No, Gandalf is right. We must give Frodo his chance.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.
Gimli: Okay. Let me finish this pint of ale first.

(At the Black Gate, the entry to Mordor.)
Good guys: Come out you black piece of shit! Come out and surrender.
Sauron: Talk to my mouth first.
Mouth of Sauron: Yo!
Good guys: Shut up!

(Sauron sends his orc army to fight the good guys. The good guys give a tough battle. But they’re losing the battle.)

(Meanwhile, Frodo regains consciousness and he and Sam go to the Cracks of Mt. Doom.)
Sam: Throw the ring, Master!
Frodo: But it's beautiful.
Gollum: My precious! Give us the precious!
Frodo: F@#! You! (Frodo shows Gollum the finger, who bites it off, ring and all)

Gollum (dancing): My Precious!
(While dancing, Gollum performs a moonwalk, oblivious to the fact that behind him there’s a river of Lava flowing and goes and drowns in it, ring and all)

(Outside, Mordor erupts in the biggest display of pyrotechnics ever. Humbling Gandalf even!)

Good guys: Woohoo! We won!
Gandalf: Sauron is dead.
Aragorn: And I’m the king of Gondor.
Legolas: Aragorn is right.

(And well, that’s the end of the story. After this, there’s a lot of happy, happy stuff like Aragorn’s and Arwen’s wedding and Aragorn’s crowning etc. For details watch the movies. Or better still read the book)

Let's get interactive...

Oh yes, I've decided to buck up the interactivity in this blog by a bit. So now if you comment on my blog, your comments will get commented upon by me. Also, you can send me e-mails if you like by following that dainty little link on the right hand side of the page. Or from my Blogger profile. This is not as much to increase the number of comments as it is to getting to know my readers and all.

So feel free and comment a lot. And in the process, get commented upon.

Anyhow, before I end this, a joke for you to grin about:

This guy and his group are going through some freshly developed photographs in a restaurant. One of the photos flips and falls under the seat of a lady. So, the guy goes over to the lady and asks, "Can you lift up your dress, please? I want to take a photo."

Haha, now interact!

A Copa America-n Coffee!

Recently, I’ve been spending a lot of time watching the Copa America football action on TV. And that too on Ten Sports. The only other channel showing football from down there is in Arabic. And I’ve had enough of hearing “SHOOOOOOT” and “GOOOOOOOAAAAAAAL” repeated over and over again in various permutations and combinations throughout the football match. Anyhow, the Ten Sports commentators aren’t any good either. But one can’t fail to be impressed by their much advanced English vocabulary as compared to their Arab counterparts. With addition of other words such as “pass”, “miss” and “score”, the commentary just gets a bit livelier.

But have you ever noticed how most of the people support Brazil? Back in my college, during the World Cup ’06, there were more people packed into the TV room during Brazil vs. Ethiopia (or was it Ghana?) than during the semi-final between Italy and Germany. Alas, the Brazil supporters missed my victory dance that night when Italy won the match.

Anyhow, coming back to Ten Sports, these commentators are obviously Brazil-fans. And according to them, Brazil plays the most beautiful and perfect football in the world. And the rest are there just so that Brazil can have someone to play against. Let me give you some proofs.

Chile gets the ball, breaks past the defence line, shoots and misses. The commentators say, “The Chile team lack good finishing. This way, they’ll be out of the tournament very soon.” Now, when Brazil does the same thing, they say, “And Brazil tests the keeper and the defence yet again. They’ve shown their attacking mindset early on in the game.”

Paraguay gets the ball but gives it away cheaply. Commentators say, “Paraguay can’t control the ball properly. How will they score if they can’t even keep the ball with them?” And for Brazil, “One of the greatest things about Brazil is that they let the other team play too.” I mean, seriously, what the hell!?

Colombia opens up in defence and concedes a goal. “Now that’s certainly game over for Colombia. They have a mountain to climb.” And when the Samba-land goes one down. “Now this game has really opened up. We shall see great, relentless, attacking football from the Brazilians as they’ll proceed to smash their opposition to smithereens. Game on!”

I say, Brazil won’t win the Copa America. I’d put the odds against Brazil winning as 2-1. Bets, anyone?

The Seven Wonders of the World

Last night the Seven Wonders of the World were unveiled in Lisbon, Portugal. After months of frantic clicking, texting, urging others, advertising, egging and did I mention clicking and texting, by several millions of people all over the world, the list was democratically decided. And guess what? India’s very own Taj Mahal is listed amongst them. Clap clap and all that sort of a thing. And do I feel proud? Oh, hell, yeah! I’m proud about the fact that there are so many people having internet connections in India. I’m proud that there are so many cell phone users in India. I’m overly proud of the fact that so many Indians know how to set up proxy IPs so that they can vote multiple times in a row. I’m also proud of the fact that so many Indians have nothing to do but vote all day long i.e. they have no life. Oh yeah, I’m full of national pride alright. Waah Taj Waah! I’m very sure a certain tea-packaging company in India will be very delighted with all this. Will it be too much to expect free tea packets from them?

But then, if every other NGO could decide upon the Seven Wonders of the World, why can’t I? I mean it’s a democracy, right? Everyone has the right to say and express. Now, I’m not one of those who express themselves by burning stuff in public and throwing stones at public property. But I like to express myself using words. After all, it is rightly said that a keyboard is mightier than a sword. Or was it a pen? Hmm… so, here goes my very own Seven Wonders of the World list:

1. Bollywood, the Indian movie production house: Bollywood is definitely the biggest Wonder of the World. It’s essentially composed of mindless maniacal monkeys who shamelessly filch from the Hollywood and still come out with stuff that stinks. And what’s more. It’s the second largest movie production house in the world. A place where beauties and booties matter more than acting skills (the only other place where this happens are porn films) and a science fiction movie essentially consists of the actors and actresses dancing around planets instead of trees, how can it not be a Wonder of the World. Or of many worlds for that matter.
   
   
2. Al Qaeda terrorist network: Oh yes, them. The second biggest pain-in-the-ass organisation after the United Nations Organisation, they certainly deserve to be a wonder of the world. After all, how can anything that can survive all the incessant bombings and invasion by the supreme military power of the world, the U.S. of A., and is led by someone who apparently has total kidney failure and still lives (or does he?), not be awarded with such a prestigious honour? Face of all terrorism in the world that too. Wonder-ful!
   
   
3. U.S.A: Which should actually be rechristened to the Universal Security Agency, it upholds the preservation of democracy and freedom all over the world as its sole right and reason to invade other countries. With such supreme intelligence provided by the F. to the B.I. and the C. to the I.A. and headed by a President who says things like “Well, I think if you say you're going to do something and don't do it, that's trustworthiness.” and “Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.” I cannot imagine how can they not be the most powerful nation in the whole wide world. Or “www” if you like.
   
   
4. Government: The most powerful congregation of liars. Ever. The perfect con-artists, they entrance their voters with false hopes and fantastical illusions in such a way that they actually get voted to determine the policy for the people. Which, ultimately, involves their own benefits rather than of those who voted for them. For such a menagerie of chair-loving-and-betrayer-of-trust people, being called a Wonder of the World is a very small honour to bestow upon. I would rather recommend a personal tour of the major prisons of the world where they can experience first-hand the pleasure of living off taxpayer’s hard-earned money. Which they do anyway.
   
   
5. Me: Oh, this is my narcissist and egocentric self speaking. I think I’m the best in the world. Apart from Ricky Kaka, that is. I so rock! I’m truly a wonder of the world.
   
   
6. You, the reader of my blog: I love you guys. Specially the beautiful girls. You all are wonders of the world. Please comment freely on the blog to make sure you’re not removed from the list. And earn my wrath in the process.
   
   
7. The Taj Mahal: This is just my national pride speaking. Not to mention, the fear of incurring the wrath of all my fellow Indian brothers who spent months clicking and texting. I wouldn’t want any effigies of myself burnt, would I? I really don’t want to cause global warming. Indirectly, that is.

PS: Saagar, I did not steal from your blog. I had written this quite a few days ago and was waiting for 07/07/07 to come around. Peace. In the world, that is…

Portable egg-boiler!

My Dad sent me this in an e-mail:

How Two Russian Journalists Cooked an Egg with their Mobile Phones

Vladimir Lagovski and Andrei Moiseynko from Komsomolskaya Pravda Newspaper in Moscow decided to learn first-hand how harmful cell phones are. There is no magic in cooking with your cell phone. The secret is in the radio waves that the cell phone radiates.

The journalists created a simple microwave structure and placed the egg between two cell phones. They called from one cell phone to the other and left both phones on talking mode. They placed a tape recorder next to phones to imitate sounds of speaking so the phones would stay on.

After, 15 minutes: The egg became slightly warm.

25 minutes: The egg became very warm.

40 minutes: The egg became very hot.

65 minutes: The egg was cooked.

Conclusion..1: Cooking eggs with mobile phones is possible but very expensive ($4.55 or 123 Rubles)

Conclusion..2: All this talk of danger is exaggerated; even if your brain gets cooked, it would take a couple hours of talking on a cell phone.It takes approximately 2 minutes of speaking on a cellular phone for the radiation to cross the protective Blood Brain Barrier. So whenever there is a land line available use it in preference to your cell.

Best Regards
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I think Dad sent me this because of my above average cellphone usage. Or maybe because I like eggs and have nothing to boil them with in my hostel-room. So now that I'm confronted with this knowledge of my brain being cooked, you would ask me how I feel? Well, a bit hot-headed...

Cricket vs football.

Background knowledge you should be acquainted with: My dad is an avid cricket worshipper while I despise cricket and am an ardent football devotee.

“Any cricket matches on nowadays, Dad?”

“None.”

“You know, that’s the good thing about following football. There’s always something on to watch.”

“I really don’t understand why you get a kick out of watching lots of men in shorts running around in a field.”

Silence.

“You can forget about the T.V. tonight. I’m going to watch the Under 20 football World Cup.”

“Under 20? You mean they can’t score more than 20 goals a game?”

“Ha ha ha, Dad.”

The Man in an iron (mask?)

King Louis XIV: Jailor, I’m the King Louis XIV and I wish to see the prisoner.
Jailor: Welcome, my liege. According to your wishes I’ve kept the prisoner locked in the deepest, darkest dungeon of the Bastille.
King Louis XIV: Well done, jailor. I hope you’d received my letter saying that this prisoner’s identity was to be kept secret by putting his face in an iron mask.
Jailor (after a long pause): What!?
King Louis XIV: It was my wish that the prisoner’s face be encased in an iron mask.
Jailor: Ah! An iron mask, you say…
(The jailor opens the prison doors)
King Louis XIV (shrieking): Aaaah! What have you done?
Jailor (regaining his composure): Well, your majesty, when I received the letter its bottom had been torn off. So it read that the prisoner’s face should be encased in (brief pause) an iron.
King Louis XIV (with disbelief): So you put this man’s head in an iron?
Jailor: Well, your majesty, the request did seem a bit odd to me at that time so I did try a number of alternatives such as a pressure cooker, a toaster and then one of those sandwich-makers. But seriously, my lord, the iron gave him a much better appearance than the others.
King Louis XIV: But an iron mask is supposed to represent oppression and terror. But this man with an iron on his head just looks like one of those teletubbies.
Jailor: But, your majesty, the iron does serve the purpose. It is cumbersome so the prisoner suffers from discomfort, he can take out the creases on his clothes with ease and if someone comes in to rescue the prisoner, he’ll just think that he’s stumbled into the laundry room by mistake.
King Louis XIV (relieved): Very well, jailor. You have served France well. You shall be recommended for an award.
Jailor (bowing): Thank you, your majesty
King Louis XIV: Now we shall move on to the next prisoner.
Jailor (after a pause): Ah! That’s another torn letter, your majesty. And I don’t think you’re going to be quite so keen on this one.

Store Wars.

Guys and gals and all the extra-terrestrials out there, you gotta gotta see this:



Warning: For full enjoyment, you should have seen Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope previously

Warehouse Woes

Industrialist: “Hello there, Gary. Welcome to our new warehouse.”
Shareholder Gary: “Thank you, Mr. Hayward.” (looking at the warehouse with awe) “Wow! This one’s really huge.”
Industrialist: “Oh yes! It’s pretty big alright.”
Shareholder: “What size is it?”
Industrialist: “Have you ever been in a double-decker bus, Gary?”
Shareholder: “Just once. Why?”
Industrialist: “Because in this warehouse, you could fit 847 double-decker buses.”
Shareholder (thinks for a moment): “But can’t you tell me the dimensions in metres?”
Industrialist: “Oh no, Gary. Metre is passé. No one really uses it anymore.”
Shareholder: “But it is convenient!”
Industrialist: “Convenient? The metric system was invented by the French to confuse and take over the world, Gary.”
Shareholder: “Oh really?”
Industrialist: “Yes, Gary. Nowadays we use a measuring system which is easier to understand. The units used are ‘the double-decker buses’, ‘the size of a football field’, ‘the area the size of Wales’ and what we call, ‘to the moon and back’.”
Shareholder: “Oh, I see.”
Industrialist: “So, do you play football, Gary?”
Shareholder: “A bit, yes.”
Industrialist: “Well then, can you imagine 38 and a half football fields side by side?”
Shareholder (after a longish pause): “No, not really.”
Industrialist: “Okay, can you imagine a football field, a big one, the size of this warehouse?”
Shareholder (brightening up): “Yeah, that I can.”
Industrialist: “Well, that’s the kind of size we’re talking about for this warehouse.”
Shareholder: “I see. Now, can you show me the figures, Mr. Hayward?”
Industrialist: “Figures? What figures?”
Shareholder: “The annual turnover of your industry, the sales and other such figures.”
Industrialist: “Oh! Those! Well, I won’t be showing you figures…”
Shareholder (cutting in): “No, but surely as a shareholder of your industry…”
Industrialist (cutting in): “No no no…”
Shareholder (cutting in): “But it’s it in the rules that…”
Industrialist (cutting in): “No, Gary, you’re not listening to me. You’re just hearing the words I’m saying.”
Shareholder (flummoxed): “What?”
Industrialist: “See! That’s what I meant. I’m not going to show you the figures. I’m going to show you a figure.”
Shareholder (curious): “A figure?”
Industrialist: “Yes, a figure. I put in our annual turnover against our yearly expenditure and you know what figure cropped out, Gary?”
Shareholder: “No, what?”
Industrialist (showing a piece of paper): “This.”
Shareholder (surprised): “Seven!”
Industrialist (calmly): “Seven.”
Shareholder: “Exactly Seven!”
Industrialist: “Precise to the nearest significant digit.”
Shareholder: “But what does it mean?”
Industrialist: “I couldn’t tell you, Gary. But last year, it was six. So we must be doing something right.”

Of helmets

Helmets are one of the greatest inventions to be taken for granted. I mean, helmets are very important for humans’ safety. It helps in keeping our skull intact and not allowing our brains to splatter around when in an accident. And a helmet also has various other uses viz. a weapon, to hide identity, a bowl when upside down and as a rat/hamster storage and transport facility. And also, it’s used to show off, especially when the bike rider doesn’t have a face that would launch even two scraggy boats.

But here’s a thought: Why do we wear helmets while sky-diving? I mean, can we kind-of make it? If that parachute doesn’t open, will wearing a helmet be the difference between life and death? When that happens, the helmet’s now wearing you for protection.

If I were asked to give a proof that would doubt the human race’s intelligence, it would definitely be the helmet. Let me explain why. Why do you think the helmet was invented? Because we were involved in various activities that were cracking our heads. And we wanted a solution for this. Now, the obvious solution would have been to discontinue the head-cracking activities. But no, we invent a helmet to protect the brain. A brain which is so stupid that it’s not even trying to stop the cracking of the head that it’s in. Now, what kind of logic is that?

Logic System

We have bought a new car. A Chevrolet Lumina ’07 model. Now, this car runs on a built-in software. Apart from petrol, that is. The software is called LS. Short for “Logic System”. And since I’m interested in software, I was interested in LS too. But the more I came to know about its functionality, the more I found that it could be improved upon. But my dad obviously thinks it’s flawless.

“I hate this software. It won’t let me open the door myself. You can’t open any doors unless the gear is on Parking.”
“Yes, it’s good. It’s for our safety.”
“Safety? How does this keep us safe?”
“A door will never be opened if the car is in motion. That’s safe.”
“Yes, but what about when the car overturns or something (touchwood) and we can’t get to the gear? Who opens the door then?”
“There must be some provision in the software.”
“And these windows… they roll down completely when I give the down button a simple push but I have to keep pressing the up button to get them to close completely. What if I want to keep my window half-open? I have to open it completely and then close them up to the level I want. That’s just stupid.”
“Why would you want to keep windows half-open anyway?”
“The software sucks, Dad.”
“No, it doesn’t. It’s LS. Logic System. Totally logical.”
“Yes, I agree its LS. Lacking Sensibility.”

A love ballad

Once there was a young carpenter,
In the village of Ardew.
And he loved the cobbler’s daughter,
And her love for him was true.

He proposed her to get married,
For the joy that it would bring.
But he didn’t have enough money,
To buy a wedding ring,

So he stole from the goldsmith,
And no matter how hard he tried.
In that small, tiny village,
He had no place to hide.

Oh, they caught him, the three constables,
And they nailed a poster to the fence.
For to warn all other people,
That it was a great offence.

He told them of his love,
But the jury didn’t sing.
And the judge was too harsh,
And condemned him to swing.

There’s a moral to this story,
That though your love be very pure.
Don’t go stealing other’s money,
For it is against the law.

Tattoo-ine

Last night, I walked into the TV room. My dad was reading a newspaper. I came up to him and said,

“I want a tattoo, Dad.”

Silence. Dad doesn’t even look up from the newspaper.

“I said, I want to get tattooed!”
“No. You’ll do nothing of the sort.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s painful. And permanent, too.”
“But they’re so cool!”
“And not to mention, ugly.”
“You’re wrong, Dad. Tattoos are beautiful. They’re art.”
“Son, by the time you realise I'm right, you’ll have a child who thinks you’re wrong.”

I take a few seconds to digest this and then walk out of the room leaving Dad with the newspaper.

And I’m going to get that bloody tattoo anyway. Any suggestions for the design, lads and ladies?

My Star Wars Horoscope

I took this quiz and this is what I got:

Star Wars Horoscope for Sagittarius

You are superbly wise and have been known to spread your wisdom widely. You are impatient and pushy when people take your teachings too lightly. And your philosophical side always peeks through. Star wars character you are most like: Yoda

"When 900 years old you reach, look as good you will not!" - Yoda, Return of the Jedi

How to write a blog entry?

At this moment, there must be tens of thousands of blogs teeming everywhere in the cyberspace. But the most important element of a blog is, well, a blog entry. If you don’t write blog entries, your blog won’t grow. And also, it’s a major question in every blogger’s mind as to what to post next. Well, leave all that to me. Today, I’m going to give a few tips and tricks on how to write a blog entry.

• It’s obviously better if the post is interesting, but then it doesn’t necessarily has to be. I mean, you can even post something you think people won’t like. The internet has such a large readership, that there is definitely at least one person who’ll be interested in what you’ve written. E.g.: Writing about how you got your tonsils removed isn’t something one would like to read about; but that’s no reason as to why you cannot write about it.
  
• If you can’t come up with new stuff, just put up something you might have written earlier somewhere else. Or, if your blog is already 7-8 months old and has a lot of posts, you can recycle your posts i.e. repost something you had posted in the early stages of the blog. A lot of people don’t go through the archives so it’ll be new to those who started reading your blog after some time.
  
• You can also post your inner thoughts. Some people love to read that kind of stuff. Gossip, you know.
  
• If you browse the web a lot and stumble upon some interesting site, you can post the link to that site along with a few words about it to generate interest.
  
• You can also mention some interesting conversation you might have had with someone. Sometimes, they are really funny things to share with people. Again, gossip.
  
• If you don’t feel like typing, never mind. Post photos. Who doesn’t like to see photos?
  
• You can also write a movie or a book review. They’re quite easy to write and are interesting to read too.
  
• And the best option, obviously, is to let the blog be. Who cares, anyway?

Therapy session

I was quite eager and bored and not to mention insane last year (well, things haven't changed much this year too) and I decided to provide solutions to people's problems. You know, the normal shrink stuff which you see as columns in the newspapers and magazines. Well, I had my stint as one and well, it didn't really work out as well as I would have wished it too.

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Dear Poochie,

I take great pains to inform you that at present I am in great distress arising out of some extra-terrestrial being on whose head resides a a strange dead cat.
This miserable creature has gone to great lengths to sabotage any intelligent posting in my community, by replying to all scraps with a comment in some unitelligible language, which is something like this: hehehehe

I have tried most courses of actions but to no avail: Reason meets with insanity, threats of bodily harm are jeered at, and mockery has no effect whatsoever.

Please suggest some evasive measures, O Resident and Wise Therapist.

Signed,
Yours truly

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Dear Yours Truly,

I am deeply perturbed with your distress and I commend you on your ability to hold on for such a long time. To ease your pain slightly, I would like to tell you that you are not the only one who has such pest problems (in your case, 'pest' denotes an extra-terrestrial being who wears a strange dead cat for a hat) and in fact, there are quite a few communities which have been plagued by such 'pests' which get involved in some of the choicest of disruptional activities (in your case, the activities being replying to all scraps with a comment in some unitelligible language) and thus hamper the normal functioning of the community.

Although the techniques you have used (mockery, physical threats and logical reasoning) have been proven to be successful, they are grossly outdated considering the advancement in modern times. Therefore, I'm suggesting a few modern techniques guaranteed to solve your problem:

1) Tell the subject some of the best of the illogical PJs ever known to mankind and animal kind alike. This procedure will first instill a sense of proximity to insanity in the subject's mind which on continued exposure to the stream of PJs will make him stark, raving mad and hence turn him phobic to the company of the person supplying the constant stream of PJs. Although this method is very effective, one needs a lot of patience and self-immunity to the PJs to execute it.

2) Another plan of action that could be taken up is to blatantly ignore the subject and give no response whatsoever to any of his menagerie of maniacal actions. This will cause the subject to initially get frustrated, then angry but finally go into despair and rejection and not trouble you ever again. Although a very old technique, its highly effective and I wonder how you haven't tried it yet.

3) The ultimate solution would of course be to show a gun to his face. Strangely, being on the wrong end of a gun is the biggest motivator of all times.

I hope this will solve your problems.

Yours in service,
Poochie

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Aah well, that sucked!