Just the other day I had gone over to a friend's place and I made her order Pizza for lunch. And when I wasn't paying attention my friend's dog came in and ate a slice of my(!) Pizza. That thief! Now I'd have murdered that animal then and there had my friend not intervened and gave me a slice from her pizza. Even though it wasn't the flavour that I ordered, I decided to show the dog some mercy on behalf of my friend who was willing to share more the pizza with me in return for the life of her dog.
People who know me are familiar with the fact that I don't like dogs at all. You see, I just don't see the point of people being so damn naive about dogs. I mean they're just animals for crying out loud. Just eat them up and get the ordeal over with.
Ever tried mentioning to a 'dog lover' that you don't like dogs? They'll grapple you with questions like "How can you not like dogs?" not counting comments such as "You're just cruel" and shit like that. I mean, doesn't a man have the rights to have his own opinion? I don't care if you love your pet, I don't have a pet, and I will feel free to hate yours with unparalleled tenacity. Fuck you.
You people are just every bit as annoying as those vegetarians who keep on preaching vegetarianism to every single person they meet on the slightest of mention that he/she is a non-vegetarian. So will that make me stop eating meat? No, I eat meat because it tastes great. I am that cruel so as to subject harmless little animals to slaughter just so I can have my tasteful of delicious juicy meat. Big-fucking-deal, last I checked we lived in a free country where we had the rights to have our own opinions about things without being forced to be subjected to your futile accusations.
Do you even realise that the privileges that you're bestowing upon that beloved mutt of yours are more than what many children in this country will ever receive? I know most of you spend more on your dog than many lower-middle class families can afford to spend on their child's education and welfare. So stop giving me the 'charitable' excuse to having that smelly thing share living quarters with you. If you're feeling so charitable, just give away all that money to a homeless shelter or something. Or better yet, give it to me, I could always use another 10-15 scale models.
And what's even more annoying is that your dog requires your attention 24 hours in a day. You can't bloody ignore the thing for one second without being subjected to barking and whimpering until you're forced to pet the flea infested animal. A dog would gladly give Paris Hilton competition in attention-whoring. It's like a stripper. It has to do the extra work to get your attention because you know damn well you wouldn't be paying it attention if it didn't have it's face dug up in your crotch.
If you were ever sensible enough, you'd get yourself a cat as a pet. Ever seen a cat eat its own poop? They're independent, they'll leave home for hours at an end doing what they please having their own little adventures. And you won't be home worried sick that your pet has wandered outside the threshold of your house and is incompetent to guide itself back home. On the other hands, dogs can't be expected to do anything for themselves, unless of course, it's eating your brand new shoes.
Now I've heard the "OMG JAMIE.. CATZZ R SOOOO MOODY.. LOLZZZZ" excuse. It just doesn't make sense to me. I mean, its ok for you to be moody and shoo away your pet when you're working or in a crappy mood, but it's not ok for your pet not to feel affectionate?
Summing it all up, pets don't make sense, and if I ever do want one, I'd get myself something with a personality as opposed to a tail chasing growling mutt. And I deem it about damn time we start taking the term "Hot Dog" seriously.
Go fry, I don't care about your opinions.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Will Someone Get These Feminists To Ever Shut It?
Heil Feminiza!
I meet far too many women around everyday who seem to be hell bent on taking the 'feminist' war out on men. I just fail to comprehend the idea. They talk about getting absolute gender equality, but if you ask me, absolute gender equality will never be. The physical distinction of the male and females in humans are far more prominent to ever allow that. You never see guys out complaining that women are being offered and reserved seats in the metro, while they're woefully ignored. Then there's Delhi University, which does not have one all boys college, and yet has countless all girls colleges. But you don't see men bickering about that every now and then. So why do I have to deal with you lot who cry hoarse about unequal wages and whatnot.
The Language Issues.
Idiotic feminists always start cribbing about how many female derogatory terms are there in the English language. "Oh my, you called me a 'chick', how dare you?". You really think such terms are offensive? Some women are so petty that they resent any male implication on the English language. So what if one day all the guys wake up and decide to remove all the derogatory male terms from English? Buddy, Chum, Pal, Dude, Stud, Hunk, Buster. So just to balance the scales, no female shall be allowed the use of the above terms because we will get offended.
Then there's the bit about some objects being referred to as females which feminists get all hyper about. Does it never occur to you that cars and all have always been referred to as females and that it is done not with the ulterior motive of offending you highly esteemed asses?
Women can't compete with men in many aspects. Fact.
Now this is the bit where I am prepared to take the most heated flak from all of you girls. Do you realise that men and women (oops.. let me say 'women and men' so as not to imply male superiority) are not born with the same physical features? Is it that hard for you to notice that on an average, the men are more physically strong and you can't compete with them in many aspects? I will give you areas where men DO have an edge over you.
Sports. There's a good reason why sports have different categories for men and women. Here I present to you some advice, go look up the world records for male and females in all the Olympic sports. No where but gymnastics are where girls are a match to the physical abilities of the guys. For those of you too lazy to go and do some research, I'll give you a few examples. Sports like athletics are totally male dominated, because the male set records every year are simply not matched by the females. Leave alone sports like weightlifting, where the best ever performance by a female is 305 kilograms, while men top the scales at 472.5 kgs. You want gender equality? Let there be no separate categories on gender lines. How many medals you think women will be home with? If I am to be concerned(and since this is my blog, it's my opinion which counts) ALL the medals with the exception of sissy sports like gymnastics will be to men. Now might I tell you I don't even consider the walk 'races' and gymnastics to be sports. I mean, these people get the same damn medal Usain Bolt got for his success for shaking their asses while walking and for making patterns in the air with a ribbon. Indeed how tough that must be, I say.
You can contradict me the day chicks start regularly winning the Ironman Triathalon. And if you bother to click on the link do me a favour and check out the difference in the male and female winning times.
Equal wages are only valid when you work equal.
So you bicker about how females don't get equal pay.Well, I'm pretty sure that in most of the jobs like journalism or teaching or banking, women DO get equal wages. If it is not the case, then I totally do understand sexual-discrimination is prevailant. The reason for the average women income being low is, that the fields where men and women are employed in are different because of their lifestyles. My dad is a mechanical engineer and he's off toiling on construction sites everyday. How many women work for engineering firms who ask for on-site availability? Not many. It's simply because of a difference in occupational choice. Women doctors are considered just as competent as their men counter-parts. Then there are professions where women are paid more than men. Air-hostesses being an example. You don't hear men complaining that it's hard for them to get equal wages as a receptionist. There are many professions women choose because of their different lifestyles. Leave alone the bit where if the woman decides to have a child, she'll be taking more days off work to tend to the child(not even counting the days off for labour reasons). It's unfair, but usually the case. Women are usually more family oriented, and nurturing, while men are usually less sensitive and work oriented. All this is of course changing, but it's to be expected that women get paid less than men. For an example, some fields like Military have always been male dominated, but if you look at me to point towards that as an excuse for better pay for men, you're wrong. In a nut-shell a woman should get the equal amount of pay for the equal amount of working hours, and the equal amount of work done by the male, or vice-versa if the female out-performs. But incase she does a lesser amount of work done, be it Lumber-jacking, Mason work, Accounting or Hair-dressing, for whatever be the reason(child care and labour holidays included) for her under-par performance, she does NOT, under any circumstance deserve the same pay. Simple as that. That's equality for you.
Only the real feminist may waste time reading this.
Here I wasn't even wasting time on talking about the half idiot bimbos who call themselves feminists. These are the women who want their doors to be opened by the men, their food to be paid for on dates by men, men to be getting up when a woman approaches a table etc. in the same breath will be preaching gender equality. You don't even know what gender equality is. Leave alone preach it. Go put on some make-up and occupy yourselves.
As for the smart kind who want gender equality, I'll give you an idea about a world with gender equality. In such a world, when one of you slaps a guy, you get slapped right back. It's a world where women are included in contact sports and laughed upon when they cry about breaking their nails. It's a world where it wouldn't be offensive to preach that full frontal nudity be telecast on TV without any qualms, after all guys are seen on TV without their shirts on all the time.
Feminism = Fascism
Feminism is in a lot of ways like fascism. Your average Fascist will disregard any scientific argument unless the conclusion supports his existing belief. The ideology comes first and the Fascist looks for anything to back it up, no matter how trivial, unreliable or discredited. Much like today's feminists and their ideology. A fascist might, for example, cast blame for unemployment and work discontent on immigrants "stealing" their jobs. Feminists similarly cast blame for women's lower average pay onto another party (men). Both feminists and fascists are quick to cast blame on someone else for anything that goes wrong in their lives.
For once be man enough(oh-the-irony) to stand up and take the responsibility for your shortcomings on yourself rather than blaming the other sex for everything that is wrong with you and your kind.
I'm so right, it scares me at times.
Let the hatred flow.
I meet far too many women around everyday who seem to be hell bent on taking the 'feminist' war out on men. I just fail to comprehend the idea. They talk about getting absolute gender equality, but if you ask me, absolute gender equality will never be. The physical distinction of the male and females in humans are far more prominent to ever allow that. You never see guys out complaining that women are being offered and reserved seats in the metro, while they're woefully ignored. Then there's Delhi University, which does not have one all boys college, and yet has countless all girls colleges. But you don't see men bickering about that every now and then. So why do I have to deal with you lot who cry hoarse about unequal wages and whatnot.
The Language Issues.
Idiotic feminists always start cribbing about how many female derogatory terms are there in the English language. "Oh my, you called me a 'chick', how dare you?". You really think such terms are offensive? Some women are so petty that they resent any male implication on the English language. So what if one day all the guys wake up and decide to remove all the derogatory male terms from English? Buddy, Chum, Pal, Dude, Stud, Hunk, Buster. So just to balance the scales, no female shall be allowed the use of the above terms because we will get offended.
Then there's the bit about some objects being referred to as females which feminists get all hyper about. Does it never occur to you that cars and all have always been referred to as females and that it is done not with the ulterior motive of offending you highly esteemed asses?
Women can't compete with men in many aspects. Fact.
Now this is the bit where I am prepared to take the most heated flak from all of you girls. Do you realise that men and women (oops.. let me say 'women and men' so as not to imply male superiority) are not born with the same physical features? Is it that hard for you to notice that on an average, the men are more physically strong and you can't compete with them in many aspects? I will give you areas where men DO have an edge over you.
Sports. There's a good reason why sports have different categories for men and women. Here I present to you some advice, go look up the world records for male and females in all the Olympic sports. No where but gymnastics are where girls are a match to the physical abilities of the guys. For those of you too lazy to go and do some research, I'll give you a few examples. Sports like athletics are totally male dominated, because the male set records every year are simply not matched by the females. Leave alone sports like weightlifting, where the best ever performance by a female is 305 kilograms, while men top the scales at 472.5 kgs. You want gender equality? Let there be no separate categories on gender lines. How many medals you think women will be home with? If I am to be concerned(and since this is my blog, it's my opinion which counts) ALL the medals with the exception of sissy sports like gymnastics will be to men. Now might I tell you I don't even consider the walk 'races' and gymnastics to be sports. I mean, these people get the same damn medal Usain Bolt got for his success for shaking their asses while walking and for making patterns in the air with a ribbon. Indeed how tough that must be, I say.
You can contradict me the day chicks start regularly winning the Ironman Triathalon. And if you bother to click on the link do me a favour and check out the difference in the male and female winning times.
Equal wages are only valid when you work equal.
So you bicker about how females don't get equal pay.Well, I'm pretty sure that in most of the jobs like journalism or teaching or banking, women DO get equal wages. If it is not the case, then I totally do understand sexual-discrimination is prevailant. The reason for the average women income being low is, that the fields where men and women are employed in are different because of their lifestyles. My dad is a mechanical engineer and he's off toiling on construction sites everyday. How many women work for engineering firms who ask for on-site availability? Not many. It's simply because of a difference in occupational choice. Women doctors are considered just as competent as their men counter-parts. Then there are professions where women are paid more than men. Air-hostesses being an example. You don't hear men complaining that it's hard for them to get equal wages as a receptionist. There are many professions women choose because of their different lifestyles. Leave alone the bit where if the woman decides to have a child, she'll be taking more days off work to tend to the child(not even counting the days off for labour reasons). It's unfair, but usually the case. Women are usually more family oriented, and nurturing, while men are usually less sensitive and work oriented. All this is of course changing, but it's to be expected that women get paid less than men. For an example, some fields like Military have always been male dominated, but if you look at me to point towards that as an excuse for better pay for men, you're wrong. In a nut-shell a woman should get the equal amount of pay for the equal amount of working hours, and the equal amount of work done by the male, or vice-versa if the female out-performs. But incase she does a lesser amount of work done, be it Lumber-jacking, Mason work, Accounting or Hair-dressing, for whatever be the reason(child care and labour holidays included) for her under-par performance, she does NOT, under any circumstance deserve the same pay. Simple as that. That's equality for you.
Only the real feminist may waste time reading this.
Here I wasn't even wasting time on talking about the half idiot bimbos who call themselves feminists. These are the women who want their doors to be opened by the men, their food to be paid for on dates by men, men to be getting up when a woman approaches a table etc. in the same breath will be preaching gender equality. You don't even know what gender equality is. Leave alone preach it. Go put on some make-up and occupy yourselves.
As for the smart kind who want gender equality, I'll give you an idea about a world with gender equality. In such a world, when one of you slaps a guy, you get slapped right back. It's a world where women are included in contact sports and laughed upon when they cry about breaking their nails. It's a world where it wouldn't be offensive to preach that full frontal nudity be telecast on TV without any qualms, after all guys are seen on TV without their shirts on all the time.
Feminism = Fascism
Feminism is in a lot of ways like fascism. Your average Fascist will disregard any scientific argument unless the conclusion supports his existing belief. The ideology comes first and the Fascist looks for anything to back it up, no matter how trivial, unreliable or discredited. Much like today's feminists and their ideology. A fascist might, for example, cast blame for unemployment and work discontent on immigrants "stealing" their jobs. Feminists similarly cast blame for women's lower average pay onto another party (men). Both feminists and fascists are quick to cast blame on someone else for anything that goes wrong in their lives.
For once be man enough(oh-the-irony) to stand up and take the responsibility for your shortcomings on yourself rather than blaming the other sex for everything that is wrong with you and your kind.
I'm so right, it scares me at times.
Let the hatred flow.
Labels:
Fascism,
Feminism,
Feminists,
Gender equality
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Fashion Tips That Kick The Ass Out Of Fashion Journos.
Coming from a college where 99% of the people dress like horseshit, I can obviously give you helpful insights on what I call 'Bunty Fashion'. Who is Bunty, you ask me. Well, Bunty is your average urban Delhi rich Punjabi kid who drives the car I mentioned in my blog previously. Now I tell you how not to dress like him.
Ofcourse I don't know shit about fashion, I realise that. But what I tell you is common sense not the blabberings of 45 yr old fashion policing aunties who write for Vogue or whatever.Agreed. I should run for President. I'm never wrong.
Fashion Tip #1: Monkey/Stone washed jeans are for Monkeys and/or stoneheads.
These are perhaps the most hideous sight I have seen with the exception of Rakhi Sawant. And somehow even the big brands have fallen prey for this. Walk into Levis or whatever and they will show you the most horrible assortment of colours possible. But let's not blame the companies here, the only reason they make such shit is because there are people out there willing to buy these. I've seen green jeans which somehow fade into a red. I mean, I know I'm colourblind and all, but I'm not colourdumb! Ofcourse I won't forget the prints and embroidery. The back pockets somehow always have dragons and whatnot embroided on them. This makes me feel that someone has scribbled on their asses. Why would anyone want to give away this impression?
Fashion Tip #2: Sunglasses are for sunny days. Let's leave it that way.
How many times do I have to ignore Gogaals in the metro everyday? They're everywhere, hanging from pockets, fingers, collars, buttons, you name it. There are certain people that come to my mind, who I can't ever recollect without 'gogals'. In college, these people will have their 'glares' on all the time even though the corridors aren't sunny at all. Some even wear it in classes for crying out loud! And whatever happened to good ol' small sunglasses that could be passed off as being worn purely for utility reasons? They're huge now. Like HUGE. So huge, that they're bigger than people wearing them's faces. And why does everyone wants to emulate Paris Hilton now for some reason? Well, if you do, the next time I see you, I'll do exactly what I would do if I saw Miss. Hilton on the street. Run you over with my car, then backup and crush your skull for good measure.
Fashion Tip #3: Hairbands on guys, make them look gay.
Ofcourse I've seen Abhishek Bacchan wearing these. Just because he belongs to a snotty bollywood family makes the fact right? You'll all want to dress like him? Well, last I remember he was in a gay movie with another hairband wearing John Abraham. So why don't you guys start smooching your best buddies too while you're at it? Go on. Pucker up. Asswipes.
Fashion Tip #4: Stilettos to college? Go Fry Yourself.
Why on earth do girls wear these? They say they're horribly painful. They look like stilts. And give me hard-to-resist pangs to shove girls down the stairs. And to college? Are you frikkin insane?! Just wear damn normal shoes. And for once stop whining about them hurting so much. I didn't ask you to wear the shoes in the first place.
Fashion Tip #5: Propped up collars are for Douchebags.
'Nuff Said!
Fashion Tip #6: Socks and sandals together make no sense.
Why do people do this? I fail to comprehend. If its so cold that you're forced to wear socks, then wear shoes pea-brain! Why would you be wearing sandals in the winter in the first place? And to make matters worse, they choose the most horrible socks to be displayed. Girls will pick pretty pink ones with 'Hello Kitty' drawn up on them. While guys will pick horribly towel-ly gym socks with brown stains on them. Bleh. Just shoot me. Or better still, them.
Fashion Tip #7: Belts/Ear-rings are not supposed to be bigger than your skull.
I kid you not when I tell you that once I saw this guy wearing a belt with little flickering lights on it reading the words "BAD BOY". It's a sight that etches itself in your head for the rest of your life, haunting you forever. But that's an extreme case, we see moderate cases with 5-pound belt buckles of the "NY YANKEES" all the time. I see no point in wearing a damn belt in the first place. Why have one that's so big? I'm surprised how these manage to hold the pants up instead of making them plummet under their weight.
Also to be mentioned is girls who wear ear-rings bigger than their skulls. There should be a law in place for such actions. When you try talking to them, somehow your eyes get transfixed on the earings. And everyone knows where guys stare when talking to girls. Sheesh. Distraction.
Fashion Tip #8: Pink = Gay/Girly. Get it through your skull.
Last but surely not least, Pink on guys. What is it with guys and pink? 4 year old girls who play with Barbies and Dolphins are the only ones who can carry off wearing pink. Guys somehow are hell bent to make it a fashion statement. At first I used to derive humour out of the situation I saw a guy wearing pink. But it's so common now that it's not even funny anymore. I've seen pink shirts with the message 'Only real men wear pink'. Really?! Then call me an 'un-real' man, but one with nuts to refuse to wear these feminine shirts. Thank you.
I think that society has finally come to it's collapse. As much as an optimimist as I like to call myself. I don't think I'll ever live to see the day that jeans will be blue once more, the fades naturally achieved, and girls; well, let's just forget it.
Ofcourse I don't know shit about fashion, I realise that. But what I tell you is common sense not the blabberings of 45 yr old fashion policing aunties who write for Vogue or whatever.Agreed. I should run for President. I'm never wrong.
Fashion Tip #1: Monkey/Stone washed jeans are for Monkeys and/or stoneheads.
These are perhaps the most hideous sight I have seen with the exception of Rakhi Sawant. And somehow even the big brands have fallen prey for this. Walk into Levis or whatever and they will show you the most horrible assortment of colours possible. But let's not blame the companies here, the only reason they make such shit is because there are people out there willing to buy these. I've seen green jeans which somehow fade into a red. I mean, I know I'm colourblind and all, but I'm not colourdumb! Ofcourse I won't forget the prints and embroidery. The back pockets somehow always have dragons and whatnot embroided on them. This makes me feel that someone has scribbled on their asses. Why would anyone want to give away this impression?
Fashion Tip #2: Sunglasses are for sunny days. Let's leave it that way.
How many times do I have to ignore Gogaals in the metro everyday? They're everywhere, hanging from pockets, fingers, collars, buttons, you name it. There are certain people that come to my mind, who I can't ever recollect without 'gogals'. In college, these people will have their 'glares' on all the time even though the corridors aren't sunny at all. Some even wear it in classes for crying out loud! And whatever happened to good ol' small sunglasses that could be passed off as being worn purely for utility reasons? They're huge now. Like HUGE. So huge, that they're bigger than people wearing them's faces. And why does everyone wants to emulate Paris Hilton now for some reason? Well, if you do, the next time I see you, I'll do exactly what I would do if I saw Miss. Hilton on the street. Run you over with my car, then backup and crush your skull for good measure.
Fashion Tip #3: Hairbands on guys, make them look gay.
Ofcourse I've seen Abhishek Bacchan wearing these. Just because he belongs to a snotty bollywood family makes the fact right? You'll all want to dress like him? Well, last I remember he was in a gay movie with another hairband wearing John Abraham. So why don't you guys start smooching your best buddies too while you're at it? Go on. Pucker up. Asswipes.
Fashion Tip #4: Stilettos to college? Go Fry Yourself.
Why on earth do girls wear these? They say they're horribly painful. They look like stilts. And give me hard-to-resist pangs to shove girls down the stairs. And to college? Are you frikkin insane?! Just wear damn normal shoes. And for once stop whining about them hurting so much. I didn't ask you to wear the shoes in the first place.
Fashion Tip #5: Propped up collars are for Douchebags.
'Nuff Said!
Fashion Tip #6: Socks and sandals together make no sense.
Why do people do this? I fail to comprehend. If its so cold that you're forced to wear socks, then wear shoes pea-brain! Why would you be wearing sandals in the winter in the first place? And to make matters worse, they choose the most horrible socks to be displayed. Girls will pick pretty pink ones with 'Hello Kitty' drawn up on them. While guys will pick horribly towel-ly gym socks with brown stains on them. Bleh. Just shoot me. Or better still, them.
Fashion Tip #7: Belts/Ear-rings are not supposed to be bigger than your skull.
I kid you not when I tell you that once I saw this guy wearing a belt with little flickering lights on it reading the words "BAD BOY". It's a sight that etches itself in your head for the rest of your life, haunting you forever. But that's an extreme case, we see moderate cases with 5-pound belt buckles of the "NY YANKEES" all the time. I see no point in wearing a damn belt in the first place. Why have one that's so big? I'm surprised how these manage to hold the pants up instead of making them plummet under their weight.
Also to be mentioned is girls who wear ear-rings bigger than their skulls. There should be a law in place for such actions. When you try talking to them, somehow your eyes get transfixed on the earings. And everyone knows where guys stare when talking to girls. Sheesh. Distraction.
Fashion Tip #8: Pink = Gay/Girly. Get it through your skull.
Last but surely not least, Pink on guys. What is it with guys and pink? 4 year old girls who play with Barbies and Dolphins are the only ones who can carry off wearing pink. Guys somehow are hell bent to make it a fashion statement. At first I used to derive humour out of the situation I saw a guy wearing pink. But it's so common now that it's not even funny anymore. I've seen pink shirts with the message 'Only real men wear pink'. Really?! Then call me an 'un-real' man, but one with nuts to refuse to wear these feminine shirts. Thank you.
I think that society has finally come to it's collapse. As much as an optimimist as I like to call myself. I don't think I'll ever live to see the day that jeans will be blue once more, the fades naturally achieved, and girls; well, let's just forget it.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Seen ma ryddd? itzzz kewl yaaa
So you wanted a hot shot Toyota Supra? But daddy dearest wouldn't pay for one and bought you a Santro instead? No problem. Over accessorise it to make it look like a coughed out phlegm of a sports car.
Totally gets you laid, it does. Chicks dig that shit. I can't think of one girl who'd be able to resist her libidos on seeing you zoom past in a decked up Santro with your music system blaring with you zig-zagging and barely avoiding an old man, a rickshaw and a truck, all in one turn. Foolproof method, I give to you. You buy a 3 lakh rupee car, spend another 2 lakh or so on rims, body-kit, tinted windows, an obnoxiously loud exhaust coupled with an even louder music system, and voila. You've just managed to shame Michelangelo in art, Chris Bangle in car design and Gordon Murray in deriving performance out of your car, all with the help of Bunty Bhaiya at the nukkad car modification shop. Life's never been this good.
For those of you who're new to this league of modded cars. I give you a list of things that it's completely essential for a modded car to have for you to look 'kewl'.
1. Tinted Windows: The very first and the cheapest step. Having this implies that you've done 'stuff' inside your car. Of course by stuff I mean, getting drunk and hollering on the girls on the street and ending up having a wild night by feeling up your friends; Chintzz and Happy. Tints are required on every possible glass on the car. 0% visibility is a must. The front windshield being no exception. You don't want your Pappa to find out you had a girl with you in the car. You'd be grounded.
2.Stickers: If you spent your money on vinyls, where would you have the money for the cheap beer you have to drink at the dhaba? So a lame stickering job would do just fine. Your aim, to hide as much of the original paintwork behind these stickers as possible. 'Pseudo racing stripes' are the key words here. These stickers can also give you the look of a two-tone paintjob. Ingenious! Consider yourself successful if the end result resembles this.
3. Alloys rims/wheel covers: Very important. Stock wheels are so not 'funk'. You want 'snazzy' shit on your ride. You should be getting yourself cool rims. New rims are one fine investment. They should be bulging, extra points of the super-chrome ones of course. Bonus points if you get yourself spinners. After all who doesn't want his ride to look like Fitty Cents'. Then you say to me, "But Jamie, I dnt hv da money 2 buy rimzzz..... LOLZZ". I say to you, "Get yourself wheelcovers! They're just as cool. And you can get them for as cheap as 200 bucks. They can totally pass off as alloy rims to blind guys." I am so smart. They should name a street after me.
4. Music System: I see no point of having a car if people don't hear your 'dhinchak' beats a kilometre from where you are. After all the world has to know that you listen to Akon. Listening to english music is cool after all. It's necessary that there be 83 woofers in the car such that the bass beats in the song drown out all vocals(not a bad thing if you're listening to Akon). Get an LCD screen if possible. Nothing beats watching porno with your buddies in the car. Also consider yourself a failure if the bass in the car can't be felt in the intestines of people a hundred metres away.
5. Body-kit: Everyone needs body kits. Bunty Bhaiya will show you loads of those. The super low bumpers and the side skirts. Bliss. Get cheap-ass scissor doors if your budget permits. I know you can't possibly get it installed properly and will have panel gaps which'll let a tennis ball pass through between the bumpers and the bonnet. But who cares. Atleast you got yourself 'Rad' bumpers. It's a must to for it to look that the body-kit is about to fall off any second.
6. Booming Exhaust: So what if you don't have a sports car? You want to revv it up at signal lights asking others to race you. Your car should sound like a distorted Ashok Leyland truck. Go to trusted Bunty Bhaiya, he'll have loads of options for you. Mufflers are the new in-thing. The louder the better. You have to give your sound system a competition, you see.
7. Spoilers/Fins: Everyone wants their cars to resemble jets. How do you do that, you ask. Why, get yourself spoiler and fins, of course. Spoilers have to be triple deckered and should be higher than your car. They're a waste if it doesn't seem like your car will take off at the traffic signal.
8. Fake Neons: I know it's hard for you to buy real neon lights to give your car the "Fast and Furious" look. So just get a bunch of LEDs and get Bunty Bhaiya to install them in the underside of your car. Get them inside your car too for the extra coolness factor. Look wicked, they do.
9. Stuff written on the windshield: The last and one of the most important thing to get is to have stuff written on your widshields. "NOTTY BOYZZ", "SINNGH IS KINNNNNG","DADZ GIFT" or "DEVIL RIDERZZZZZZ" are what I would suggest. But of course, you guys are ingenious. You can think up of better stuff by yourself. So go ahead. Try out your linguist skills. You'll do well, I have faith in you.
For the end result I have something like this in mind as your car.
Now that I have helped you create your dream car. I would like to be excused as I would very much like to spend the remainder of the day walking on the streets looking for your cars and Key-ing them. Don't forget to thank me for all the help I just gave you.
Totally gets you laid, it does. Chicks dig that shit. I can't think of one girl who'd be able to resist her libidos on seeing you zoom past in a decked up Santro with your music system blaring with you zig-zagging and barely avoiding an old man, a rickshaw and a truck, all in one turn. Foolproof method, I give to you. You buy a 3 lakh rupee car, spend another 2 lakh or so on rims, body-kit, tinted windows, an obnoxiously loud exhaust coupled with an even louder music system, and voila. You've just managed to shame Michelangelo in art, Chris Bangle in car design and Gordon Murray in deriving performance out of your car, all with the help of Bunty Bhaiya at the nukkad car modification shop. Life's never been this good.
For those of you who're new to this league of modded cars. I give you a list of things that it's completely essential for a modded car to have for you to look 'kewl'.
1. Tinted Windows: The very first and the cheapest step. Having this implies that you've done 'stuff' inside your car. Of course by stuff I mean, getting drunk and hollering on the girls on the street and ending up having a wild night by feeling up your friends; Chintzz and Happy. Tints are required on every possible glass on the car. 0% visibility is a must. The front windshield being no exception. You don't want your Pappa to find out you had a girl with you in the car. You'd be grounded.
2.Stickers: If you spent your money on vinyls, where would you have the money for the cheap beer you have to drink at the dhaba? So a lame stickering job would do just fine. Your aim, to hide as much of the original paintwork behind these stickers as possible. 'Pseudo racing stripes' are the key words here. These stickers can also give you the look of a two-tone paintjob. Ingenious! Consider yourself successful if the end result resembles this.
3. Alloys rims/wheel covers: Very important. Stock wheels are so not 'funk'. You want 'snazzy' shit on your ride. You should be getting yourself cool rims. New rims are one fine investment. They should be bulging, extra points of the super-chrome ones of course. Bonus points if you get yourself spinners. After all who doesn't want his ride to look like Fitty Cents'. Then you say to me, "But Jamie, I dnt hv da money 2 buy rimzzz..... LOLZZ". I say to you, "Get yourself wheelcovers! They're just as cool. And you can get them for as cheap as 200 bucks. They can totally pass off as alloy rims to blind guys." I am so smart. They should name a street after me.
4. Music System: I see no point of having a car if people don't hear your 'dhinchak' beats a kilometre from where you are. After all the world has to know that you listen to Akon. Listening to english music is cool after all. It's necessary that there be 83 woofers in the car such that the bass beats in the song drown out all vocals(not a bad thing if you're listening to Akon). Get an LCD screen if possible. Nothing beats watching porno with your buddies in the car. Also consider yourself a failure if the bass in the car can't be felt in the intestines of people a hundred metres away.
5. Body-kit: Everyone needs body kits. Bunty Bhaiya will show you loads of those. The super low bumpers and the side skirts. Bliss. Get cheap-ass scissor doors if your budget permits. I know you can't possibly get it installed properly and will have panel gaps which'll let a tennis ball pass through between the bumpers and the bonnet. But who cares. Atleast you got yourself 'Rad' bumpers. It's a must to for it to look that the body-kit is about to fall off any second.
6. Booming Exhaust: So what if you don't have a sports car? You want to revv it up at signal lights asking others to race you. Your car should sound like a distorted Ashok Leyland truck. Go to trusted Bunty Bhaiya, he'll have loads of options for you. Mufflers are the new in-thing. The louder the better. You have to give your sound system a competition, you see.
7. Spoilers/Fins: Everyone wants their cars to resemble jets. How do you do that, you ask. Why, get yourself spoiler and fins, of course. Spoilers have to be triple deckered and should be higher than your car. They're a waste if it doesn't seem like your car will take off at the traffic signal.
8. Fake Neons: I know it's hard for you to buy real neon lights to give your car the "Fast and Furious" look. So just get a bunch of LEDs and get Bunty Bhaiya to install them in the underside of your car. Get them inside your car too for the extra coolness factor. Look wicked, they do.
9. Stuff written on the windshield: The last and one of the most important thing to get is to have stuff written on your widshields. "NOTTY BOYZZ", "SINNGH IS KINNNNNG","DADZ GIFT" or "DEVIL RIDERZZZZZZ" are what I would suggest. But of course, you guys are ingenious. You can think up of better stuff by yourself. So go ahead. Try out your linguist skills. You'll do well, I have faith in you.
Now that I have helped you create your dream car. I would like to be excused as I would very much like to spend the remainder of the day walking on the streets looking for your cars and Key-ing them. Don't forget to thank me for all the help I just gave you.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Bhaiya Maal Chahiye.
Instead of wasting time on pleasantries and explaining why I decided to pen down a blog, I'll cut straight to the chase.
Yesterday, the 20th of October, was some Sikh festival and my college was closed. So, I did what any teenager would've done, I made plans to go out with my friends instead.
Pappu* was naturally my first accomplice. So we made a few calls the night before and made sure a fairly decent amount of folk showed up for whatever it is that we decided to do.
Pappu and Sunita*(my female friend) picked me up from the metro station early in the morning and we decided to head off to Defence Colony, another friend's place, for everyone who was supposed to show up later on was either sleeping or facebooking at 10 in the morning. (I know I have weird friends, I'll thank you for not pointing that out individually.) So moving on, thanks to the horrible morning traffic we were taking longer than usual to reach our eventual destination and conversation flew as it does amongst the three of us. We were discussing how one of my other friends would be procuring us raw weed from his current trip to Punjab.
Now I have to point out that I don't know a rat's bottom about weed and its usage, and thus naturally Pappu started arguing that such weed would be totally unusable as none of had the know-how on the processing of naturally procured weed. So Pappu took it upon himself to get the two of us high.
A Solution Reached: We buy Weed.
Smart idea, that. Except that, we only knew of one place to get our hands on weed, Nizamuddin. So we decided to take a slight detour on our way to Def-Col. Now Nizamuddin(for you non-Delhi and ignorant Delhi people) is the perfect example of Capitalist India. One part is uber posh, while the other is just a cut above being labeled a slum. We, obviously, had to go to the latter. I was relaxed, sitting at the backseat thinking Pappu knew where he was taking us and that he would go and get the weed pronto. But life's not that pretty, is it?
A Shock Delivered: He stops the car under a fly-over, points to a backgate of what looked like a Mandir Complex and goes, "Jamie, that's the gate where you're supposed to go and ask for weed."
Beyond doubt there must've been an error in communication. Surely he won't send me(!) to go get it. But his face shows no trace of humour and Sunita just looks glad she won the Choromosome battle 19 years ago. Now with my pride at stake, I wouldn't dare blurt my fears out-loud. I try to keep a straight face and ask him what I'm to do.
A Plan Explained:
Go to the gate.
It's closed!.
Ofcourse it's closed! There's a Baba sitting beside the gate, Holler and ask him if he's got weed.
I'm NOT Hollering nothing.
I didn't mean shout, just ask him if he's got weed, buy shit worth Rs. 50 and come back, simple(Yeah right). That should be enough for the three of us.
Ummm, could you take the car closer?
Don't be silly. Can't you see that man peeing right beside the gate, we have a girl in our car, have some shame.
Right.
Pappu, I don't suppose the 'Baba' will know what weed is.
Hmmm. Good point. Ask him if he has 'Maal'. Maal?! Are you crazy? I'm not asking some 'Baba' for 'Maal', it's crazy. I swear it's called Maal.
At this point I have to point out that Sunita, on hearing Pappu's final statement, started laughing profusely.
Plan in action: I walk out of the car, look back at road we came from, and I could swear I remembered seeing thullas at the intersection who are barely out of sight at the moment. Trying to ignore my impulse of running back to the car, I walk towards the iron gate and peek inside. Praying with all I have for a miracle to get my out of this fiasco prone plan(It's amazing how I become religious at the best times possible). All I see is an empty patch of land with absolutely no trace of human presence. Thanking the Lord I can't help but suppress a sigh of relief as I turn around and mouth the words "Koi nahi hai" along with the adequate hand gestures at the two in the car.
But on my way back. I see this absolute 'Charsi' looking Hobo approaching me rapidly. I quicken my pace so as to reach the car before getting intersected by him. But I'm no Bolt. He intersects me before I reach the car.
A New Character Introduced: The following conversation takes place between the two of us:
Hobo: Kya hua Bhaiya?
Me: Kuch nahi. Kuch nahi.
Hobo: Kuch chahiye kya aapko?
Me: **Gulps** Aapko pata hai yahan par 'maal' kahan se milega?
Hobo: Kitne ka chahiye? Sau(100) vala ya pachas(50) vala?
Me: Pachas vala chahiye.
**I take out cash and hand it over**
Hobo: Theek hai, Yaheen pe ruko.
**Now I am an amateur I know, but I'm not stupid**
Me: Arrey bhaiya aise thode hi hota hai.
Hobo: Kya matlab?
Me: Paisa vaapas karke jao.
**Charsi Hobo reluctantly hands over the money and disappears in some alley a hundred or so metres from the car**
2 Minutes = Eternity: I head back to the car and sit in. Pappu looks inquisitively and I tell him about the conversation. He gets smug as if this was his plan in the first place and says. "Bola tha na mil jaega." I am too nervous to scream/argue so I ignore him.
Sunita is still laughing on the "I swear it's called Maal" statement. Thicko.
So we sit in the car and wait. I keep my eyes on the alley which is perilously close to where the thullas were supposed to be. And after what felt like a day, I see the guy coming out of the alley. Pappu screams, "Saale go and get it, don't make him bring it near the car!". I pass a look that wished him a death by torture and got out to collect the "Maal".
Some Haggling: I walk briskly towards the Mr.Hobo. He motions that I keep on moving ahead of the car for there are thulles near the alley. He says he couldn't find pachas vale packet so he got me 2 worth 30 each. I am in no mood to complain and realise I don't have enough cash. I run back to the car, take money from Sunita and to pay the guy asap.
After pocketing the money the guy goes, that was for the weed, now my pension. I tell him, I don't care if you're a middle man or the producer, I aint giving him anymore money. But he starts pleading so I hand him over 10 bucks.
I nearly sprint back to the car and bellow at Pappu to get the car away from that rotten place.
A Conclusion: Yeah I was scared out of my wits, I had never bought anything as shady and anything from a shadier place. But once all of it was over and we had almost reached Def Col, I could actually look back and laugh about it as everyone who's too cool to be scared does. I will explain the ordeal involved when we tried smoking the thing the next time I write.
Then Pappu reminds me that by "Maal" the Hobo might've also brought me a prostitute. I try not to think about the adventures I'd have had in such a scenario and find another reason to be all the more glad that the entire business got over with.
Sunita, on the other hand, has tears in her eyes by now, and is still repeating "I swear it's called Maal" and laughing herself into oblivion.
I will kill my friends one day, I tell you.
*Names changed to protect privacy or whatever. Thanks Ayena for the name suggestions. Perfect.
Yesterday, the 20th of October, was some Sikh festival and my college was closed. So, I did what any teenager would've done, I made plans to go out with my friends instead.
Pappu* was naturally my first accomplice. So we made a few calls the night before and made sure a fairly decent amount of folk showed up for whatever it is that we decided to do.
Pappu and Sunita*(my female friend) picked me up from the metro station early in the morning and we decided to head off to Defence Colony, another friend's place, for everyone who was supposed to show up later on was either sleeping or facebooking at 10 in the morning. (I know I have weird friends, I'll thank you for not pointing that out individually.) So moving on, thanks to the horrible morning traffic we were taking longer than usual to reach our eventual destination and conversation flew as it does amongst the three of us. We were discussing how one of my other friends would be procuring us raw weed from his current trip to Punjab.
Now I have to point out that I don't know a rat's bottom about weed and its usage, and thus naturally Pappu started arguing that such weed would be totally unusable as none of had the know-how on the processing of naturally procured weed. So Pappu took it upon himself to get the two of us high.
A Solution Reached: We buy Weed.
Smart idea, that. Except that, we only knew of one place to get our hands on weed, Nizamuddin. So we decided to take a slight detour on our way to Def-Col. Now Nizamuddin(for you non-Delhi and ignorant Delhi people) is the perfect example of Capitalist India. One part is uber posh, while the other is just a cut above being labeled a slum. We, obviously, had to go to the latter. I was relaxed, sitting at the backseat thinking Pappu knew where he was taking us and that he would go and get the weed pronto. But life's not that pretty, is it?
A Shock Delivered: He stops the car under a fly-over, points to a backgate of what looked like a Mandir Complex and goes, "Jamie, that's the gate where you're supposed to go and ask for weed."
Beyond doubt there must've been an error in communication. Surely he won't send me(!) to go get it. But his face shows no trace of humour and Sunita just looks glad she won the Choromosome battle 19 years ago. Now with my pride at stake, I wouldn't dare blurt my fears out-loud. I try to keep a straight face and ask him what I'm to do.
A Plan Explained:
Go to the gate.
It's closed!.
Ofcourse it's closed! There's a Baba sitting beside the gate, Holler and ask him if he's got weed.
I'm NOT Hollering nothing.
I didn't mean shout, just ask him if he's got weed, buy shit worth Rs. 50 and come back, simple(Yeah right). That should be enough for the three of us.
Ummm, could you take the car closer?
Don't be silly. Can't you see that man peeing right beside the gate, we have a girl in our car, have some shame.
Right.
Pappu, I don't suppose the 'Baba' will know what weed is.
Hmmm. Good point. Ask him if he has 'Maal'. Maal?! Are you crazy? I'm not asking some 'Baba' for 'Maal', it's crazy. I swear it's called Maal.
At this point I have to point out that Sunita, on hearing Pappu's final statement, started laughing profusely.
Plan in action: I walk out of the car, look back at road we came from, and I could swear I remembered seeing thullas at the intersection who are barely out of sight at the moment. Trying to ignore my impulse of running back to the car, I walk towards the iron gate and peek inside. Praying with all I have for a miracle to get my out of this fiasco prone plan(It's amazing how I become religious at the best times possible). All I see is an empty patch of land with absolutely no trace of human presence. Thanking the Lord I can't help but suppress a sigh of relief as I turn around and mouth the words "Koi nahi hai" along with the adequate hand gestures at the two in the car.
But on my way back. I see this absolute 'Charsi' looking Hobo approaching me rapidly. I quicken my pace so as to reach the car before getting intersected by him. But I'm no Bolt. He intersects me before I reach the car.
A New Character Introduced: The following conversation takes place between the two of us:
Hobo: Kya hua Bhaiya?
Me: Kuch nahi. Kuch nahi.
Hobo: Kuch chahiye kya aapko?
Me: **Gulps** Aapko pata hai yahan par 'maal' kahan se milega?
Hobo: Kitne ka chahiye? Sau(100) vala ya pachas(50) vala?
Me: Pachas vala chahiye.
**I take out cash and hand it over**
Hobo: Theek hai, Yaheen pe ruko.
**Now I am an amateur I know, but I'm not stupid**
Me: Arrey bhaiya aise thode hi hota hai.
Hobo: Kya matlab?
Me: Paisa vaapas karke jao.
**Charsi Hobo reluctantly hands over the money and disappears in some alley a hundred or so metres from the car**
2 Minutes = Eternity: I head back to the car and sit in. Pappu looks inquisitively and I tell him about the conversation. He gets smug as if this was his plan in the first place and says. "Bola tha na mil jaega." I am too nervous to scream/argue so I ignore him.
Sunita is still laughing on the "I swear it's called Maal" statement. Thicko.
So we sit in the car and wait. I keep my eyes on the alley which is perilously close to where the thullas were supposed to be. And after what felt like a day, I see the guy coming out of the alley. Pappu screams, "Saale go and get it, don't make him bring it near the car!". I pass a look that wished him a death by torture and got out to collect the "Maal".
Some Haggling: I walk briskly towards the Mr.Hobo. He motions that I keep on moving ahead of the car for there are thulles near the alley. He says he couldn't find pachas vale packet so he got me 2 worth 30 each. I am in no mood to complain and realise I don't have enough cash. I run back to the car, take money from Sunita and to pay the guy asap.
After pocketing the money the guy goes, that was for the weed, now my pension. I tell him, I don't care if you're a middle man or the producer, I aint giving him anymore money. But he starts pleading so I hand him over 10 bucks.
I nearly sprint back to the car and bellow at Pappu to get the car away from that rotten place.
A Conclusion: Yeah I was scared out of my wits, I had never bought anything as shady and anything from a shadier place. But once all of it was over and we had almost reached Def Col, I could actually look back and laugh about it as everyone who's too cool to be scared does. I will explain the ordeal involved when we tried smoking the thing the next time I write.
Then Pappu reminds me that by "Maal" the Hobo might've also brought me a prostitute. I try not to think about the adventures I'd have had in such a scenario and find another reason to be all the more glad that the entire business got over with.
Sunita, on the other hand, has tears in her eyes by now, and is still repeating "I swear it's called Maal" and laughing herself into oblivion.
I will kill my friends one day, I tell you.
*Names changed to protect privacy or whatever. Thanks Ayena for the name suggestions. Perfect.
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