Friday, March 28, 2008

Sciolism On Barbie


Oh,look the ugly bitch has a monster roasted-faced boyfriend.No actually it's the goon which rapes barbiesto the point of raping their eyes out of their sockets,those ugly bitches are worth it.I dunno how buying-barbies become endemic within the school.HOW?HOW can kids love,ugly bitchy dolls with plastic hands and legs and leopard skin patterned knickers and a fake Louis Vitton bag and plastic,breakable fake Dior sunglasses?


It is in the popular stores,they recon that after lesbian barbie,cheerleader barbie,pregnant barbie,there's a need for a beheaded barbie.Personally I wouldn't want you to waste your dollars on it.
Here's how you can maufacture your own beheaded barbie:
#Step 1:Grab your own plastic barbie or your friend's or sister's barbie.
#Step 2:Curl your fingers around her neck.
#Step 3:Snap it.
#Step 4:Tell your crying friend/sister that the barbie had a tumour in her brainless head so you had to operate it.
However,if you start to cry,you need to:
##Step 1:You need petrol for libation.
##Step 2:Light a matchstick,drop it over yourself,and RIP.
See?It's easy!

The Ice-cream melted.

The title has got nothing to do with my post.

No,i want to write a story.
I really want to.
The story will be about Clickety-Clickety-Click.
Hmm,that's right a cursor.
Once upon a time there was clock,which ticked.And since tick sounds familiar to click.A fat bum-face,retarded boy named Bill,invented a cursor!THE PROUD OWNER OWNER OF THE CURSOR,he was.Every other dimwit envied him.The local witch named,Goddess Of Plagiarism-Queen J,hated him for his new invention.And since the villagers called Bill,The God of Invention,she'd blaspheme openly about him.Bill thought,Pope Benedict's benediction might help,so he cried "Eeeeek!Haaaalp!",oh yes he did.

You will die Bill,the Queen said.

No,you will,Bill replied.

You can't copy me,I'm the Goddess Of Plagiarism,not you,she said.

Okhay,he said.

But you can save yourself from dying under my spells,only give away your cursor to me,she said.

No,no,no!You can't have my cursor,I brought him up,like he's my little brother,Bill said.

Okhay then,Bhaad mein jaa,Queen said.

Bill returned home to feed cerelac to his cursor,he'd later surf through the blogs in internet,he thought.In the meantime,the witch created her own blog,and then wrote the link to the blog in a yellow coloured paperand posted the letter to Bill's mailbox.Bill saw the link,it was kind of ostentatious so he got attracted to it,and typed it in his address bar and hit enter with his cursor!AND AS SOON AS THE BLOG PAGE APPEARED,the cursor fell in love with the sparkled fairy in it.
And he refused to come back to Bill.
And he became the Queen's cursor.
Bill went to hell.
Queen never died.
Cursor is bored.
And by the way,he was named Clickety-Clickety-Click.
~Moral of the Story:Always write nice stories.~

Monday, March 24, 2008

That's It!

Picture 1 shows that he got a bath.

Picture 2 shows his nanoism[if that were to be a word].

But these pictures are just the happier phases of my life:bathing him and photographing his nanoid face.

And shit as affable it is to say is as easy to do at any time of the day,provided there's always a cleaner,24*7.Let me rephrase the sentence if you happen to read this lifeless blog.


What I don't understand is how can a little pup's poo weigh greater than himself.Okhay I exaggerated a bit too much but that was the most presentable circumlocution.

Cleaning faeces FOUR times a day isn't as easy as watching four movies at a stretch[p.s.- provided that they aren't bollywood bumpers].

I look so happy all the time,infact I have to,I've got a brand new pup.My life must be fun!

Yea exactly!It's a lot of fun,to be in the job that you hardly imagine about,and even when you try imagining the job,the image stays behind in the negative,you really don't get to see it and when you do,those could be called hallucinations.

I love that little thing a'right and not poo-ing in the bathroom instead merry-making on the floor for a li'l pup is a venial error.I love him,still.It's just that cleaning up all the time,isn't fun and if it IS,that doesn't last for too long,you eventually die yawning.

ABOUT ROCA:Finally,I AM ADDICTED!No,not to cigarretes,not to entine,not to a hunk,BUT TO ROCA!30 out of 24 hours do I think about my own Roca brand.That's about Roca.

Happy Life to you.

Con Amore.

Monday, March 17, 2008

About Him

So the furball,is getting used to us.[Lets not call him Fudgeball,gets pretty prolix and starts smelling of ice-cream and chocolate syrup!There,my taste glands are already starting to push against my temptations]

I found a new synonym for him.In the kewlest,hawtest rappah style,ma windows media playa style-JdogG.There seems some surplus frisson abt JdogG,only if I could manage to put lots o' bling around his paws and neck.

Juno's got only 5-6 teeth,which he flaunts at every possible situation,while yawning,while chewing MY sandal[why me?],et cetera.

He has been kind enough to poo under my bed twice,pee on my bed thrice.Boys will be boys.

And,I think that I won't be left unemployed all my life afterall because I have already become an official dog poop cleaner.

He's got his own bed to sleep,but he prefers mine.He also tried chewing my hair,yummy!yummy![wtf?]

And I have to leave now because he and I are going to the vet!YAY! [-_-]

P.S.-For all those,whom I love,which is basically most of you,please don't mind if I'm pampering the woolly thing too much,and boring you with his description and loving you a little less.For even though I love Juno a little more than you,I love you no less.Stop feeling insecured. *:D

Con Amore,


Sunday, March 16, 2008

Talk About Calibre

Nobody in the world gets to keep me,*ME* awake.
Nah,not even exams or the gravest form of worry.
As they say,i can get robbed or even kidnapped albeit while sleeping.
Completely unaware,still sleeping.
AND TALK ABOUT CALIBRE!Because this little dog did the impossible.
Would you believe me,if I told you that,I haven't slept the whole night?
The puppy sojourned my bed,imagined a toilet seat on it,peed on my tee,on my bed,aking wonderful circle patterns.
I don't know what feels so felicitous at mid night,but this puppy have been pawing me since 12:30 a.m. to play with it.
So I did.
Then tried sleeping.It gave indications for shitting.
I took him to the bathroom showing didactic presentations,on how humans shit.
Only if he'd copy me.
Surprise!surprise!He already attended his needs under my bed.He still doesn't have any sign of slumber in his eyes apparently.
And at 4:00 p.m.,I'm trying to play with it,and tire him out.
Only if,he'd get weary,and my eyelids would stop drooping.

Friday, March 7, 2008

....almost the end of it.

Right now,I'm going through the worst and the extreme phase of 'BAD MOOD'.
Damn!Even a tornado or a hunger strike couldn't bring so much of destruction in my life!This is a major castastrophe and right now,i'm not in the state of writing an essay on it,instead i'll just put up the conversation which summarizes the situation.

seraph:oye chaman ! :-

J:chaman bahar? :P
i uploaded some vidoes.
those were like my best songs back in classes 6 and 7.
shit man!they are SO girly!

seraph:But i m happy .... atleast those will get ur estrogen levels high :P

right now,my adrenaline level is high.
you know what?
my maths paper was a total sucker!
syllabus:28 chapters
done:20 chapters
left two major chapters:inverse trigo and integration.
the whole question paper was basically based on those 2 chapters.
the question paper intially look like it was on 80 marks,but today somebody discovered that Sec-I was of 80 marks and sec-II of 20,that makes 100 marks.
and i merrily attempted 50 marks[thinking it was out of 80],cuz the rest 30 was based on those maha-fucked up chapters.
do i even deserve a funeral? [:x]
and i hate typing long scraps [:x]

my mood's like fused!
mamma electrician and papa electrician considered the length of the chapters.
And gave me concession.
I have been calculating and re-calculating my marks again and again,
and everytime i come up with new answers.
i gave up sleeping[yes read!i gave up sleeping]
and eating.something pretty unexpected of me.
if you r going to say 'chalega,paas ho jayegi',DON'T!absolutely don't.
cuz this time i'm not persiflaging.
my paper basically looks like a constipated pig's ass!
and my marks will look like faggots!
i had a deal with mom,she shouldn't harm my body whatsover.
i'll either commit suicide by over-eating or over-sleeping.
*sighs*,my mood's filament is only defective!
okhay,now i guess,i'll staple my mouth[but i'm not talking am,i?
don't wish me luck,in your next scrap,from the bottom of your heart.
and on second thoughts,how can hearts have bottoms?

look shit happens ...... if u pass ... pray to god .... and offer a nariyal .... if you dont .... threaten ur princi ... that u will suicide ... if there is a major fuck up ... i'll handle it ... u need not to worry :)

and exactly how will 'you' handle it?
picked it up from 'main hoon na'?
main hoon na?
all that u can expect,is me deleting my accounts all over again.
and swearing not to socialize with cool people anymore,cuz as the saying goes 'touch pitch and be defiled' :-
*sighs* a major blow to my career...
...and romantic life too[:x],cuz if my fiance demands for my report card someday,that'll be the end of it.
A MAJOR BREAKUP gossip for the ladies.

and if you are thinking of leaving a comment on this,don't!i don't need any sympathies,any hugs and kisses and any 'awwww'-s from you becasue you know it and even i know it,that it can't be fixed by any of those!

Monday, March 3, 2008


Being left-handed is like being in a secret club. We have our own bizarre initialization rituals, such as learning how to write "the wrong way." We pay our dues every day, in terms of the extra effort that we must make to live in a right-handed world. When we encounter another lefty, we immediately have something in common. The club is shrouded in secrecy, because we rarely mention the topic to our right-handed friends.
For fun, I started making a list of the aspects of everyday life that are geared towards right-handed people. Lefties will probably recognize most things on this list; righties might find some of these things surprising. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it! :-)

• We have to use special "lefty" scissors. [I don’t do that.However,I hold my scissor,brush,spoon,etc. with my left hand]
• We write from left to right, so that our hand smears the fresh ink across the page. (Righties' hands do not touch the ink until they get to the next line, so the ink has a few seconds to dry.) [sheesh!Those traumas,during the exam.I’ll write the whole damned thing also so perfectly only to see that the left side of my palm smeared the ink,all over the page.]
• If you grab a coffee mug with your left hand, the picture will be facing away from you. (Righties get to look at the picture while they drink.)
• Lefties have little choice where they get to sit at large dinners, lest they bump elbows with a righty.
[Eveytime!every single time,it looks like an elbow war is going on]
• Lefties have little choice where they get to sit in lecture halls. Often the only left-handed desks are on the end of the row. Lefties can't sit in the middle, unless they want to have a hard time writing.[During every dictation,wither I’ll lose my patience or the person on my left]
• When writing in a 3-ring binder (or spiral notebook), the rings get in the way of our hands when we write on the front side of the paper. (Righties have this problem when writing on the back of the paper, but this is easier to avoid.)
• Many "commonly" used keys are on the right side of the keyboard. For example: backspace, enter, arrows, and numeric keypad.
[in addition to it,nobody stiches the buttons of my school-shirt on the left,so everytime I fumble while putting on the buttons]
• Computer mice are generally set up so that the "main" button is the index finger for righties. If you want to use the mouse in your left hand, the "main" button is under your less-adept ring finger. [I tried real hard on that,I’m sort of ambidextrous now]
• Bike gears are on the right side of the bike. This means that if you carry the bike on your right shoulder, the gears face outward. If you put the bike on your left shoulder, you'll get grease stains all over your clothes.
• Bike helmet chin-strap buckles are easier to release with your right hand.
• Hand-held jigsaws blow sawdust off to the right side. If you hold it in your right hand, it blows the sawdust away from you. If you hold it in your left hand, it blows sawdust in your face.
• Drill presses have the handle (to lower the drill) on the right side. It's impossible (and dangerous!) to try to hold the wood with your right hand while controlling the drill with your left hand.
• Lefties have to get their own "left-handed" boomerangs, golf clubs, hockey sticks, and baseball mitts. This means we usually can't borrow our friends' equipment.
• Car stick-shifts are on the right side of the driver. Less frequently used controls, such as headlight switches, are on the left side.

• High-end headphones (with only one cord) have the cord on the left side. The cord gets in the way more for left-handed writers.
• BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) entrance/exit gates take the ticket on your right side.
• When pants only have one back pocket, it's always on the right side. (Lefties have to fumble around for their wallet with their "bad" hand.)
[thankfully,mine have two backpockets.]
• Mini propane camping stoves are designed so that you can hold it with your left hand and pump up air pressure with your right, even if the stove is still hot. It's hard to hold it with your right hand and pump with your left hand without burning your right hand.
• Piano keys are arranged so the more rapidly-changing higher notes are played with the right hand. For beginners, the base clef (left hand) is often optional.
• Camera shutter buttons are often on the right. Pressing the button with our less-dextrous hand makes it harder for lefties to hold the camera steady while taking a picture.
[yea,sometimes the photos get shaken]
• "Ergonomic" chairs usually have the controls on the right side.
• When firing an automatic or semi-automatic rifle, the ejection port blows casings past your face.
• When holding a pen or pencil in your right hand, you can read any lettering on it, but in your left hand, the lettering is upside-down.[exactly!like almost mirror images]



I got pretty famous since the starting of my school life because everytime I was an alien,who gripped the pen in a strange fashion,like curling the whole hand,typically.Sometimes,there are public demands,like:-“Please write my name and show me” , “How do you colour?”, “You write that way?Always?Write it again.” Everytime I passed to another class, the first thing that the class teacher would come know is “About the girl who writes with her left-hand.” They’d get all enthusiastic to make me write with my right hand,to the point of having me practice handwriting daily.When I used my left hand more as an infant,my folks got shit scared[shit scared?i mean wtf?].I was taken to a Dr. to find out if I was normal.I’m dyslexiac,not a schizophrenic either,unlike what most reasearchers point out.I’m just a slow coach,when it comes to writing.I need to make two efforts while writing,not smearing the ink and writing fast.Eventually,I flop. “Stares” of people made me do something against my rule.I eat with right-hand.And me eating is quite a scene.However,when it comes to spoons,I just dunno how to hold it with my right-hand.
But then being a left-hander isn’t bad.It is like feeling,that I’m so different than everyone else,like I’m God’s favourite child,atleast he has made an effort to get me noticed.