Tagged with friends

Champagne Conversations and Double Standards

Around 0100 hours, Saturday, March 12…

He: Dude, I can’t believe I drank so much!

Me: What did you have?

He: I had…*hic* four King Fisher Strongs!

Me: Yeah given your tolerance, that’s a lot.

He (slurring and stumbling): I also had, 4 glasses of champagne!

Me: Dude…

He: Yeah man. I couldn’t help myself, she was telling me to. I couldn’t say no.

Me: *sigh*Idiot.

He: Boss. Try to understand, it was her birthday! I couldn’t refuse. I rarely meet her.

Me: What does that have to do with getting sloshed?

He: I…I just….just couldn’t say no to her.

Me: Given your previous experiences with women, I’m not surprised.

He: Shush!

Me: So on a scale of one to ten, how’d you rate her?

He: Hmmm…an 8!

Me: Not more? You seem to have had a good time.

He: No man, I can’t. She’s a friend from school.

Me: So what’s stopping you?

He: No! She’s from school. So no.

Me: That was like, 10 years ago man.

He: I can’t look at her that way!

Me: Ass, you already have, giving her an 8 and all that.

He (shouting): Yeah but she’s from school! Else she’d be a 10!

Me: *facepalm*

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Stuff I hate

Okay so maybe hate is too strong a word. Or maybe it isn’t. I can’t make up my mind. Or can I? Either way, read on and tell me.

1. The Sound of Music: A World War 2 movie without Hitler, occult or zombies? No blood, gore or gibs either?! Sounds preposterous. Then I realized it won big at the Oscars. Hilarious for a movie that has actors that can’t even pronounce their own names, let alone act.Which leads me to believe that the Academy Awards is run by a bunch of trolls. Except for the year LOTR won big.

2. DSLR Users:  Dear Camera Newbs, just because your great grandmom’s cat who passed away pawed you into its will doesn’t mean you’d waste that ill-earned money by buying a sophisticated piece of photographic equipment. But being the ignorant pile of turd that you are, you definitely will.  Heck blowing a wad of dough on one of them seems fine after we discover that all you do with it is hang it around your neck like some ancient Egyptian fertility symbol in the hopes of getting laid. That and taking 20350346436 pictures a second of a dog pissing.

3. BlackBerry Boys, Butches and Bitches: Before I get flamed for hating on what is apparently the most awesome device of the century, I bring before you transcripts of what went down at Research In Motion before they launched the mother of all annoyances:

Scientist 1: Hey let’s create a phone with superlative email support.

Scientist 2: Sounds epic! Let’s do it.

Scientist 1: Let’s add IM too!

Scientist 2: And our own variant of it usable to BlackBerry owners. Let’s call it BlackBerry Messenger. That’s always on!

Scientist 1: Yes, and you can’t switch off but only uninstall.

Scientist 2: Perfect!

Scientist 1: Dude, I think we’re on the verge of creating the ultimate stalking tool…

Scientist 2: Nonsense! Marketing will spin it so the fools will think it’s the discrete way to get booty calls.

And that my friends, is why your friends have themselves surgically attached to their CrackBerries at every possible instance. I rest my case.

4. F.R.I.E.N.D.S. : Rachel isn’t hot. Phoebe isn’t funny. Ross is a whiny little bitch who should blog (ironic yes?). Joey is a female bimbo (yes you read that right). Monica is psychotic. Chandler is okay because he likes Fallout in real life. Oh did I mention that the show has been off the air for almost seven years now? Indian TV channels please note. We don’t need this filth still polluting our airwaves. One generation of people spewing “Smelly Cat” memes and sporting the “Rachel” hairdo is enough.

The world would be a better place without these things. But who cares about that? If these didn’t exist you wouldn’t have a blog post from me would you?

Now Listening To: Feeder – Descend

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*sigh*

It’s 5: 22 AM.

By the time I’m done typing this post, it’ll be close to 6 AM on a Monday morning if not already past it.

Needless to say, things are pretty messed up if you find yourself in front of your computer screen in a post-sleep, caffeine and Gatorade fueled haze in a vain, almost cursory attempt at trying to be coherent on a blog that has been, of late a dumping ground for perverse jokes and randomness instead of doing the 24465476879346322154667799 other things that do matter in a life span that’s relatively short and useless relative to the great scheme of things in the universe.

Read that last paragraph? 4 lines. One sentence. Good-bye coherency and sense, I barely knew you.

Then again, it joins the ranks of seemingly important, high priority entities that I’ve lost a grip on. I feel directionless, burned out and on the verge of , if not already in, some sick, twisted form of misery and depression.

Amazing isn’t it? Close to 2 years ago I thought I won the proverbial lottery in the most literal sense possible. I was in an industry I loved working on things that mattered and making a difference. Or so I thought.

Right now everything leading up to this moment seems completely disjointed, a rambling Frankenstein-like specimen stitched together by delusions of self-worth. Everything seems to be colored in monotony. Waking up is a chore, getting to work even a bigger one, surviving the day, the biggest of all. And it makes me wonder.

You know that in superhero flicks and comics there’s a prolonged period of struggle before they finally manage to find a way to defeat their villains right? This period of my life seems like those 5-10 pages or the odd thirty minutes of celluloid struggle. On constant loop. A rerun of cheap satire that’s probably keeping some alien race entertained as they’re watching from high above, a comedic filler giving their aspirations of galactic domination a massive boost if this was an indicator of how the rest of humanity pans out.

I’m just tired. Frayed. And seven shades of shit rolled into one convenient package that’s prevented from hitting the fan due to a heady mix of music, video games, anime, coffee and alcohol. But for how long?

There’s only so much an IQ of 160 severed by a dominant right-brain can do. Couple that with a personal life that’s as healthy as a dead person and social life where the high point is getting sloshed on a Saturday night leads me to believe that I need a change. A change of everything. A change from everyone. A change absolutely wholesale.

I need to find a way out. Before life becomes the death of me. Until a suitable solution is found I’ll be busy helping stone golems discover who they were before they became well…stone golems.

Stone Golems. Making hating pigeons cool since forever.

Oh what do you know? It’s 6:40 AM. Am I Nostradamus or what?

Now Listening To: Queens of the Stone Age – In the Fade

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Harassment

Sometime,  just around quitting time, February 18th.

Her: Would you like to see my niece?

Him: How would I see them? You’re wearing pants.

Slackerninja: *facepalm* Dude, that’s actually grounds for sexual harassment.

Him: The parts for harassment are above the knees.

Her: Whaaaa?

Slackerninja: *double facepalm*

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Character Representation

Work could be a fire-breathing dragon, except spewing shit out instead. Women can end up being evil enough to give Skeletor, Hitler and Lucifer an inferiority complex and the best friends you have would never take the advice they so sorely need doing their best Anne Frank impersonation in the process.

However even when everything is a glorified clusterfuck of historical figures and mythological beasts you can always come home, pop-in some sweet music, kick back a few vodka-cranberries and the world is suddenly a better place. Which it always was. You just realized that things have never changed.

Just people.

Now Listening To: A Red Season Shade – Ghosts & Clouds

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Why Women Can’t Be Ninjas Part III

The final part in this epic saga of awesomeness. Maybe.

Sherrie: ahoy hoy

slackerninja: hey sup?

Sherrie: you have the funniest convos

slackerninja: totally

Sherrie: btw why exactly can’t women be ninjas?

slackerninja: THEY CANNOT! THEY DO NOT EXIST

Sherrie: what tha???

slackerninja: It’s like trying to say people get drunk on wine and white chocolate exists

Sherrie: but manga tells us otherwise!

slackerninja: or Lady Gaga is female

Sherrie: er, yes drunk on wine…

slackerninja: in your dreams

Sherrie: but i’m just saying, women are generally stealthier than men?

slackerninja: no…fatter doesn’t mean stealthier

Note to self: I still wonder how I survived that particular conversation, think it had something to do with  my copious consumption of Absolut Raspberry. And cranberry juice.

Insert appropriate The Departed reference here.

Now Listening To: Spoon – Got Nuffin

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Freshly Pressed!

It was a dark and stormy night. The winds were sending a biting chill down his spine howling at him to retreat home, the clouds conspired to rain the heavens down his wretched body and road was well, non-existent in this part of the world.

Nevertheless he persevered onwards with nothing but fire in his belly, effervescent hope and music on his iPod. Actually just music on iPod , the other two were actually his stomach growling and his conscience rebelling at being forced to wake up so early.

After all, he was just heading to work and it the weather wasn’t as murky as it sounds, it’s just that he’s plain delusional. Always happens when you’ve to trek to Mumbai’s equivalent of Mordor (read: Andheri East) to get to your job.

The sight he saw on arrival was anything but the usual delusion (battling undead warriors guarding the entrance of Mordor). Hoardes of his co-workers were stuck in the office compound and weren’t exactly pleased.

Alright, they’re close to undead warriors but not quite, he thought as he trudged on smiling which stopped the moment he realized that he along with his office crew were displaced for reasons which only beings of a higher power could fathom. And in that very instant he had the most astounding revelation. An epiphany so deep and meaningful that it seemed to materialize itself from the very womb of the origin of inspiration, also know more widely as “shit happens”.

December sucks.

How did he of all people come across this astounding insight you readers (well, reader as far as i know…unless there are more lurkers, c’mon you know who you might be, i think)might ask? He used his powers of deduction which are awesome. Like unicorns puking rainbows. Except they’re not puking rainbows they’re puking, well…puke. Yes his powers of deduction are that awesome.

Digressions aside this is what he puke..err..deduced. First up he attended a marriage which was fun, at least in theory. Not in practice because dressing up made him feel fat and weight conscious. Also dancing at a wedding was embarassing to say the least. The very definition of clumsy and embarassing which topped this little 2005 incident of his and laughable enough to be understood by the aliens who’d be watching it when they conquer our planet years from now.

Secondly he realized where he stands with people who he felt he was close to which apparently wasn’t the case (yeah he’s that delusional it seems), felt like being impaled with a bed of nails which is a tad better than feeling fat and conscious (weight or otherwise).

Thirdly he felt his work was going unrecognized and his talents being flushed down the drain being stuck in the 1st level of hell (the oldies called it, for some mad reason, limbo, we know it as “middle management”) which made him made him insane enough to believe that going to work was akin to making a daily commute to Mount Doom.

Fourthly everyone he knows is either prepping up to be the next Meryl Streep with drama so excessive that it could make the passing of gas an epic saga of love, betrayal and ultimately vengeance of the stomach who finally got to say, “I told you that pizza was bad for you.” in the most visual, craptacular way possibe. I shit you not. Oh wait…

Then again it might have something to do with the lack of caffeine, excessively stupid workload and scant respect from humanity or the fact that he really needed to stop wearing shoes that are uncomfortable for his feet.

So yes, December sucks. All his ten toes, even the one with the mauled nail concurred with him in unison which made the stray dog at his side scurry away with its tail between its legs.

Perhaps it has to do with the weight of the entire plumetting down on his uneven shoulders in one fell swoop? Is it because he really needs to buy a pair of shoes that aren’t of the corn yeilding variety? Or was it because Avatar was good enough to put him to sleep? Suddenly Mordor transformed into something regal, like it was a scene out of the set of Dynasty minus Alexis Carrington which was a bit of a downer but it would do. Out of nowhere he heard the sound of an announcer…

“Find out more on the next thrilling episode of… life…of this random dude who’s making me pause dramatically by showing one elipse too many. Same place and unknown time.”

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5 Months. One Post.

The last couple of months have been hectic around here. So let’s break it down in as concise a manner as possible.

May was, for all reason and purpose the month of epic drama. Be it the Fake IPL gallery, some great people at work leaving under pathetic circumstances, couples disentigrating faster than a 100 year old BMC deemed illegally unsafe building due for demolition and some crazy meetings. And there was a ramp walk at work which doubled as a gigantic circle-jerk session where everyone said nice things about everything to the point where it seemed as if unicorns were puking rainbows and ended with yours truly voted as the “angel” of the office. Yes this is the end of the world. Confirmed.

June was even more hilarious with unscheduled departures, finally arriving appraisal letters which were followed by the all but obvious exploitation that comes along with it (the recession is a lie, believe), the return of a certain Anuya (drunk, loud, American accent and ex in tow) and the departure of Rohit to the promised land of MBA-dom. Retailer conventions that were made of pure funny (if the concerned people are reading this do remember the following: store rooms, gas masks and stilletos). Oh and the FDA is full of shit banning Red Bull and then having it back on shelves.

July was busy. Rain, birthday (thanks a ton guys!), getting screwed over by alliance partners, irritating web developers and yeah i <3 the Backstreet Boys. Or so some people would love to believe. Not to mention catching the Hangover twice, T4 (which was epic bullshit) and Transformers 2 which was epic times zillion to the factor of infinity. Also a holiday for me what with the mombot going to Cairo and Dubai for awhile.

August was Singapore! Gotta love how the Mumbai Airport makes you feel secure, warm and fuzzy on departure like you should and makes you feel like a Guantanamo terror suspect on arrival what with chaos, pandemonium, stupid swine flu checks and complete, utter disregard for organization and traveler concerns that actually make you wonder why the Human Rights Comission hasn’t cracked down on the Mumbai Airport authorities yet. That aside launching a new website, saving two relationships, severing one and countless drunken nights at Harbor View made it one hellish month. Did i forget having a massive press event up and running in under two weeks? Yes it was that kind of month. You know, the one which was on PMS where that time of the month was everytime.

September had a feel of blah, meh and several shades of fugly settling in. For starters cryptic beer fuelled conversations with friends resulted in a scenario where at any given point in time not more than 2 people have an idea of what was being discussed making the term cloak and daggers seem relatively blatant. If this wasn’t enough, what about awkward engagements, relentless nagging for booking air tickets, torture (forced to maintain eye contact with not exactly the most pleasing of people for a play which was a mix of Sholay and video game culture, rather video game culture as perceived from a bunch of out of touch coots).

Now if you’ll excuse me i’ve some head trauma to nurse what with being privy to a night out where the spectacle of men feeling each other up was the highlight. However i’ll save that story for my next blog post.

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Swine Flu: Origins

“You’re so emo.”

“Totally. So are you.”

“Yeah, i’m going to slash my wrists and write poems in blood.”

“While you’re at it gimme a vial of your blood.”

“Like Billy Bob Thorton and Angelina Jolie?”

“Yeah. Then we can be emo together.”

“Waitaminit, what makes you think he actually gave her his blood. i mean, what’s stopping him from culling some poor pig?”

“Okay then.”

Now Listening To: The Exies – Ugly

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Busy

Work. Twitter. DS. FFVII. MGS1. FIFA09.Assassin’s Creed. CoD4. KOFXII. Terminator 4. Brothers Bloom. Work.Whisky. Birfday.Transformers 2. Work. Beer. Long Island Ice Tea. The Killers. Air. Terry Pratchett. Travelling. Commuting. Drama. Politics. Friends. Work. PS3. Xbox 360. Windows7. Fail. Win. Bills. Singapore. Life.

Now Listening To: The Killers – Losing Touch

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